He grins down at me. “Told you Vegas loves me.”
The elevator ride is quiet, just the hum of movement and Frost’s thumb brushing slow circles against my arm. Our suite greets us with soft lighting and city glow spilling through the windows. I kick off my heels and sigh in relief.
“Best decision I made all night,” I murmur.
Frost chuckles, setting his winnings on the counter before crossing the room to me. He cups my waist, pulling me close, resting his forehead against mine.
“You had fun?” he asks.
“So much,” I whisper. “Not gonna lie though, I’m glad we’re finally alone.”
He kisses me, slow and unhurried, like we have nowhere else to be. Frost’s hands slide up my sides, thumbs grazing the underside of my breasts through the fabric of my shirt. I melt into him, parting my lips to let him deepen the kiss. His tongue sweeps against mine, tasting like whiskey and want, as heat pools low in my belly.
“Missed this,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Missed you.”
“We've been together all night,” I tease, but my breath catches when his fingers find the zipper on my jeans.
“Not like this.” He draws the zipper down slowly, deliberately. “Not without everyone else around.”
Frost slides my jeans slowly down my legs, and I shiver in response. He lifts one foot at a time to release me from the confines of my denim and slowly trails his hands back up my body, peeling off my shirt, leaving me in just my black lace bra and matching panties. Frost steps back, his eyes darkening as they roam over me, and my cheeks burn with desire under his gaze.
“Fuck, Hope,” he breathes. “You're so goddamn beautiful.”
I reach for his shirt, working the buttons open with trembling fingers. “Your turn.”
He helps me, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside. My hands find his chest, tracing the lines of muscle, the warmth of his skin. He's solid beneath my touch, and I can feel his heart racing just as fast as mine.
Frost walks me backward toward the bed, his mouth never leaving mine. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I let myself fall, pulling him down with me. His weight settles over me, perfect and grounding, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.
“Love you too, baby.” His hand slides up my thigh, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. “Gonna marry you in a couple of weeks.”
“Yeah, you are.” I lift my hips so he can pull the lace down my legs. “Better make it worth my while.”
He laughs, low and rough, before kissing his way down my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts. His fingers work the clasp of my bra, freeing me, and then his mouth is on my nipple, hot and wet. I arch into him, threading my fingers through his hair.
“Frost,” I gasp when his hand slides between my thighs, finding me already slick and ready.
“So wet for me,” he murmurs, circling my clit with his thumb while two fingers slide inside me. “Always so ready.”
I rock against his hand, chasing the pleasure building in my core. His fingers curl, hitting that spot that makes me see stars, and I cry out, clutching at his shoulders.
“That's it,” he encourages, his voice rough with desire. “Let me hear you, Hope. No one to worry about now.”
He's right. There’s no one in the next room, so there’s no need to be quiet. I let myself moan freely as he works me higher, his fingers moving in a rhythm that has me trembling beneath him.
“Come for me, Hope,” he demands. “Come now.”
As if I needed to hear him say it, my body responds immediately, and I detonate. “I need you,” I pant, tugging at his belt. “Need you inside me.”
Frost pulls back just long enough to shed his pants and boxer briefs, and then he's back, settling between my thighs. I feel the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance, and I wrap my legs around him again, urging him closer.
He pushes in slowly, stretching me, filling me completely. We both groan at the sensation, and he pauses, buried deep, his forehead pressed to mine.
“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes.
“Move,” I plead, rolling my hips. “Please, Frost.”
