My legs are trembling now, pleasure building so intensely I can barely stand. “Beckham, I'm going to?—”
My back arches off the wall as I clamp down around his digits, waves of ecstasy making me shake uncontrollably.
“Give me everything,” he growls, working me through it, his fingers relentless.
The sound of footsteps and jingling keys cuts through my pleasure-haze. My eyes fly open just as Beckham's head snaps toward the noise.
A security guard rounds the corner, flashlight in hand, sweeping the terrace. We're mostly hidden in our alcove, but one step further and he'll see everything—Beckham's hand up my dress, my legs spread, my face flushed with orgasm.
The danger of discovery sends a fresh jolt of arousal through me, making me clench harder. Instead of stopping, he pushes deeper, his thumb circling my oversensitive clit.
“Shhh,” he whispers against my ear, his free hand covering my mouth just as another wave hits me.
“Dios mío,” I mumble against his palm, “Por favor, no pares. Me estás volviendo loca.”
He’s driving me crazy. His eyes darken at my words, and he presses his mouth to mine, swallowing my moans as the security guard pauses just feet away from our hiding spot.
I'm still coming, trembling against Beckham as he kisses me deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his fingers inside me.
The guard moves on, his footstepsfading as he continues his rounds. Beckham slowly pulls away from my mouth and my pussy, his breathing as ragged as mine.
“Christ, Hennessy,” he mutters, forehead pressed against mine. “You're going to fucking kill me.”
His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide, and for a moment, I think he might take me right here against the wall.
Instead, he takes a step back, and his hand shakes slightly as he adjusts my dress, pulling the hem back down over my thighs.
I look at his fingers glistening with my arousal, and something possessive surges through me. Before he can wipe them clean, I grab his wrist, holding his gaze as I bring his hand to my mouth.
“What are you—” His words cut off as I slide his fingers between my lips, my tongue swirling around them, tasting myself.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his eyes nearly black as he watches me suck his fingers clean. I hollow my cheeks, making it deliberately obscene, moaning softly against his skin.
When I release him with a wet pop, his chest is rising and falling rapidly.
“I taste so good on you,” I whisper, licking my lips. “I bet I taste even better on your dick.”
His nostrils flare, and for a second, I think he might bend me over right here. Instead, he grabs my chin, tilting my face up.
“Get your ass inside,” he growls, his voice rough with restraint. “Now.”
I shrug, fighting the urge to smile at how wrecked he looks. “Okay, Coach.” I snap a mock salute, turning to sashay away.
The sharp crack of his palm against my ass makes meyelp, heat blooming beneath my dress where he struck me. He grips the flesh he just spanked, fingers digging into my skin through the thin fabric of my dress.
“And Hennessy?” His voice follows me as I reach for the door. “No one better fucking touch you this weekend. Not a handshake, not a hug, not a goddamn thing. And you keep those hands to yourself too. You understand me?”
I glance over my shoulder, drinking in his stance, the way his fists clench at his sides.
The possessiveness in his voice makes me dizzy with want. “And if I don't behave?” I challenge, even as my body melts against his.
His fingers tighten on my ass. “Then I'll bend you over my knee and make sure you can't sit down for the rest of the conference.”
“Promises, promises,” I whisper, but the tremor in my voice betrays how much the idea affects me. “See you tomorrow, Coach Kingston. Have arelaxingnight.”
I slip back inside the hotel, my heart hammering against my chest, my thighs still trembling from his touch. The warm air of the lobby hits my flushed skin as I lean against the door, trying to collect myself. My panties are soaked, my lips swollen, and I can still feel the ghost of his fingers inside me.
Now that I've had a taste, there's no fucking way I'm stopping here.
