Instead, his teeth graze my bottom lip in a faint bite, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin. "You good?" His voice is low, his mouth hovering just above mine, stealing my breath. "This is the only time I ask."
"Fuck, yes."
"Tell me what you want on the other side of that door," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin.
"Everything but your name," I whisper.
The corner of his mouth lifts into a wicked smile. "Good. Because I can’t wait to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours."
My feet hit the floor, leaving me lightheaded and giddy.
He slides a keycard into the lock, and the door beeps open. The scent of fresh linen fills the air, crisp and clean. I breathe it in as I step inside.
It’s surprisingly tidy. No dirty laundry thrown over furniture, no suitcases bursting with clothes and souvenirs. If not for a portable charger on the dresser, I’d think this was his first time here.
The door clicks shut behind me, and I watch as he locks the bolt with a swift turn of his wrist.
"These rooms are nice," I say, moving toward the large window. Outside, the sky is nothing but endless black over the dark ocean.
He moves toward me slowly, his steps measured, eyes locked on mine. As he reaches me, he tosses his phone onto a side chair without looking. His hand lifts, fingers tracing the outline of my lips, sending a shiver dancing down my spine.
I fist the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice husky and rough. He leans in, his lips brushing against mine. A tease, a promise. He hovers there, drawing out the tension, letting it thicken in the space between us.
A small, needy sigh escapes me. I let go of his shirt, sliding my hands beneath it, wrapping them around his waist. His skin is hot and smooth beneath my fingertips, and I pull him closer.
I want him against me, every inch of him.
His rough palm trails up the column of my throat, wrapping around it with just enough pressure to make my breath hitch.
A whimper slips out as I rise onto my toes, my nails raking against his back.
He groans, low and deep, and finally gives in.
His mouth crashes against mine, stealing my breath away. His lips are softer than I imagined, warm and supple as theybrush against mine. The kiss starts off gentle, almost hesitant, but that softness doesn’t last.
A spark ignites, spreading between us like wildfire. His hands tighten around me, pulling me closer, as if the space between us is unbearable. He presses in, kissing me harder, deeper, feeding off the urgency that crackles between us.
It’s raw. Desperate. Consuming.
Fingers thread through my hair, fisting at the roots as he tilts my head, claiming every part of my mouth. His touch is rough, possessive, as if he’s branding himself onto my skin.
My chest rises and falls against his. This close, I can feel the rapid beat of his heart and taste the ghost of beer that still haunts his mouth. Heat floods my veins, pooling low in my stomach, and oh God, it’s so good.
So dangerously good.
No one has ever kissed me like this before.
His mouth moves lower, dragging down my jaw, tracing fire along the column of my throat.
A strangled cry escapes me, half sigh, half plea.
His lips are hot and insistent, sucking and nipping at my skin, making my thighs clench with a need that borders on unbearable.
I bite back another moan, gripping onto him as if that will keep me from floating away. This man is unraveling me with nothing but a kiss. But I don’t want to be the one falling apart. I want to be the one to unravelhim.
I take a step back, my breath coming in slow, shallow pulls.
