He tore his mouth away, his chest heaving. The front of his shirt impossibly crushed. Now it was her turn to groan, though hers wasn’t a sound of passion, but protest. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted this to never end. He took her hand in his uncompromising grip and began walking. She followed, not caring where he was leading her. He tested one door, then another, till he found one unlocked. A room in darkness, only the lights of the city illuminating it through the plate glass window. A smaller ballroom? A meeting room perhaps?
It didn’t matter where, it just mattered that they were alone. He backed her into a table. His eyes glittering in the reflected city light, as he lifted her onto the surface. She wanted to be closer, melded to him. Her legs parted to accommodate his hips, and his mouth dropped to hers once more. Capturing her lips with his own. Their tongues duelling as if neither could get enough. Sheburnedfor him. Every part of her pure fire. The need like a living thing, ravaging through her. He rucked up her dress, his hands hot and fevered against her skin. She moaned at the feel of his palms, stroking her thighs. Then Leo placed his hands on her backside and pulled her towards him, the table height perfect. The centre of her against his hardness. He reached to her left breast, stroked a thumb over her nipple and it was like shooting stars streaking through the night sky in her head.
‘What you do to me,’ he murmured and flexed his hips. Simone moaned again. Wrapping her legs round his, as an ache bloomed deep inside. An empty sensation that only he could sate.
‘Shhh. I told you I knew what you needed. I’ll give it to you.’
He held her close, continuing to flex in a slow, steady rhythm as she rubbed herself against him, his arousal. The sleek, fine wool of his dinner suit almost rough against the over sensitised skin of her inner thighs. She craved having nothing between them. No underwear, no clothes. A bed and the two of them together naked and entwined. Yet at the same time she wouldn’t give up this moment, here, in a darkened room, if someone had offered her millions.
Their breaths came in pants, like a love song to the darkness. He pulled back a little and she clutched onto his jacket, to stop him. ‘More,’ she said. Unable to express how much she needed him in this moment.
‘It’s what I’m about to give you,cara.’
He gently pressed his thumb against her lips and she opened as he slid it into her mouth. She sucked, running her tongue over the rough, warm flesh. Now it was his turn to moan and the power of that sound, of what she was doing to him, coursed through her like a shot of spirits.
‘Minx,’ he murmured, as he slipped his thumb out, tracing his hand down the front of her body, to her underwear, moving it aside and easing his thumb through her folds. She gasped, the consuming pleasure of it blooming inside her as he touched and teased. Sheknewhe was toying with her, never going quite where she needed him. Perhaps he wanted her to beg him and she knew that she would, if he’d just tip her over the knife edge she skated. Then his thumb gave the merest of brushes over her clitoris, and that light touch almost caused her to burst with the force of an explosion.
‘Oh, God,’ she whispered. Wanting, needing.
‘You called?’ Leo chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. Yet he didn’t withhold much longer. Moving his thumb to the perfect spot. The centre of sensation. Stroking and circling as she was lost to him. Inside of her coiling tighter and tighter till she cracked in two. Leo captured her cries with his lips as she exploded into a million pieces, which seemed to hang and float in the room before those parts reshaped and reformed. Whole again, yet totally changed. She rested her cheek against his chest as he held her there, like she was something precious.
‘We’re getting a room. I want to spend the night making you scream.’
‘Yes.’ One word was all she was capable of uttering.
‘Stay here.’ Leo eased himself away for her, cupping her cheek. Gently kissing her lips. Then he buttoned his jacket and turned, stalking to the door of the room. As he opened the door, backlit against the soft light outside, he made an imposing and impressive silhouette. Looking up and down the corridor, for what, she wasn’t sure. Then someone in uniform, a staff member, approached him.
‘Tell your concierge it’s Leonardo Zanetti,’ he said, his voice deep and dark like black velvet. ‘I want a room for the night. My wife’s unwell.’
‘Of course sir, would you also like us to call a doctor?’
‘No, a room will do. We’ll be waiting here.’
There was a little more hushed conversation and Leo returned. Wrapping his arms round her once more. Kissing her soft and deep. She placed her hands on his chest. The strong, solid muscles there keeping her grounded as the rest of her trembled with wanting.
‘You’ll be the death of me,’ he murmured.
‘I hope not before the night is over,’ she said, running her fingers over the studs of Leo’s dress shirt in an attempt at a tease. ‘You have promises to keep.’
‘And I will.’ His voice was almost a growl. A warning. Her experience was so limited. What would it be like to be with a man like Leo? All confidence and power. Well placed arrogance and ego.
Another wave of heat flooded over her. She wanted to simply melt onto the tabletop and slide to the floor. It was as if every bone in her body, every muscle and sinew, had forgotten how to hold her up.
Within minutes, another staff member arrived. A man in a suit. The concierge she presumed.
‘Signor and Signora Zanetti? I have a suite organised for you if you’d like to come with me. We can take the staff lift for privacy.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. Feeling a little guilty at the deception and the work it must have taken to organise a room so quickly.
They headed out and then down another corridor. Leo kept his arm possessively round her waist. The effects of her orgasm still singing through her veins, making her weak at the knees, her bones like rubber. They approached a lift at the end. The concierge activated it with a keycard and then handed something similar to Leo.
‘This will take you direct to your floor. Your room’s the only suite on it. You have late checkout.’
The door slid open and the man activated the button for the top floor.
‘Please call us if there’s anything we can do. I hope you’re feeling better soon, Signora Zanetti.’
He nodded as the doors closed. Leo turned to face her, pressing her back against the lift’s cool, metal wall. He cupped his hands to her jaw, thumbs gently stroking her cheek as he kissed her. Simone’s lips opening under the tease of his tongue against her own. The heat. The need. All the seductive slickness of it, twisting and tightening the desire inside of her. Ramping up the sensation till she became a bright, pinpoint of wanting. In what seemed like seconds, the doors opened on their floor. Leo pulled away, cheeks slashed with a flush of colour under the burnished gold of his skin. He took her hand, led her to the door, unlocked it, then swung her as if weightless into his arms. Pushing through the door, he entered the room. A few lamps were illuminated in the opulent space but it wasn’t the décor that interested her. She couldn’t take her eyes from Leo’s face. How intent he was. Driven. All because of her.
