She drew the drapes closed, then turned when she heard the door shut.
“Lock it.”
Two words. A command. And my entire body responded like she’d pulled a trigger. I turned the lock with a decisive click, then crossed to her in three strides.
She reached up, loosening my tie.
I caught her hands, pinning them against the cool glass above her head. “Careful what you wish for.”
“I’m not wishing anymore,” she breathed. “I’m taking.”
That was all I needed. I crashed my mouth to hers, and it was nothing like the elevator. This was hungrier. More desperate. A month of fantasies and frustration poured into the kiss. A month of holding back. Of pretending I could resist her. She moanedagainst my lips, arching into me, and I released her hands so I could touch her everywhere.
“This dress,” I groaned, running my hands down her sides, feeling every curve. My fingers lingered at her waist, memorizing the way she fit against my palms. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?”
“Show me,” she challenged, her voice breathless as she already started working on my jacket. Her fingers trembled slightly against the expensive fabric, and something about that small sign of her own need made my chest tighten.
“I’ve been tested,” I managed as she pushed the jacket off my shoulders, letting it fall forgotten to the floor.
“Same. And I have an IUD,” she confirmed, reaching for my belt. But I caught her wrists gently, bringing them to my lips instead.
“Not yet,” I murmured against her pulse point. “Let me look at you first.”
I needed to slow down. Needed to make this last. Because if this was the only time she let me have her, I was going to remember every second. I spun her around slowly, her breath hitching when my mouth found her neck. I took my time there, learning that the spot just below her ear made her melt against me.
My fingers found the zipper of her dress, but I didn’t pull it down yet. Instead, I traced the line of it, feeling her shiver. “I’ve imagined this so many times,” I admitted against her skin. “But my imagination didn’t do you justice.” The zipper made a soft sound as I finally lowered it, revealing her inch by inch. “Undressing you. Tasting every inch of you.”
The dress whispered against her legs as it fell and pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it, turning back to face me in nothing but black lace panties and nude heels. The sight knocked the breath from my lungs. Her perfect abs. Her perfect breasts, nipples peaked and hardened already. For a moment, I couldn’t move,couldn’t speak. This was Faith—brilliant, challenging Faith—choosing me, wanting me.
“Fuck, Faith.” My hands skimmed up her thighs, barely touching, just enough to feel the heat of her skin, then over her hips, spanning her waist. I could feel her breathing quicken under my palms, her rib cage expanding with each shaky breath. “You’re perfect.”
“Touch me,” she demanded, pulling me down for another kiss. This kiss was different. Deeper. More desperate. I could taste her need, feel it in the way her nails scraped lightly against my scalp. “I need you to touch me.”
I walked her backward to the chaise lounge, my mouth never leaving hers. With each step, I undid another button of my shirt, her hands helping, our fingers tangling together in the effort. When the backs of her knees hit the furniture, she lay back, her hair fanning out like silk against the cream fabric.
She spread her legs in invitation.
The sight of her laid out before me, skin flushed with desire, eyes dark with want, trust written in every line of her body, made me want to bury myself in her. Right now. But I’d make this last.
The bridal suite’s gentle amber lights painted patterns across her skin, and I realized I wanted to memorize this exact moment. Not just the physical perfection of her, but the way she looked at me like I was everything she needed.
Shirtless, I dropped to my knees.
“I’ve been thinking about tasting you.” I pressed kisses up her inner thigh. Between kisses, I admitted, “Every night. Every damn time you challenged me, every time you smiled, I thought about this.”
“Ryker, please …” Her voice broke on my name, and something primal and tender simultaneously roared to life in my chest.
“I want to worship you first,” I murmured against her skin. “And tonight, I won’t stop until I give you at least three orgasms.”
I hooked my fingers in her panties, dragging them down slowly, watching her squirm. “Patience, Warrior,” I whispered,pressing a kiss to her hip bone. Then the other. Then the soft skin just below her navel. The way she gasped at each simple touch told me she was already on edge.
Good. I wanted her desperate. Wanted her to feel even a fraction of what she’d done to me these past weeks.
I kissed a path down one thigh, then back up the other, deliberately avoiding where she needed me most. Her hips lifted off the chaise lounge, seeking, and I pressed them back down.
“Ryker.” My name was half plea, half warning.
“I know, Warrior.” I nuzzled against her inner thigh, close enough that she could feel my breath on her core. “But I’ve been thinking about this for too long to rush it.”
