“I think it was always you, Brooke,” I whisper, and the words feel like cracking myself open, like finally seeing something that was right in front of me this entire time. “From the very beginning. It was always you.”
Her fingers curl tighter against my chest, bunching the fabric of my half-open shirt. For a moment she just stares at me, those dark eyes growing bright, glistening in the low light.
“Dominic,” she whispers, and her voice breaks on my name.
I pull her in and kiss her, my hands still cradling her face. She melts into me, her arms wrapping around my neck. My hands slide down her sides and find the hem of her top, pulling it up and over her head in one motion. The red lace bralette cups her breasts, full and perfect, and I run my fingers along the edge of the lace, watching her skin pebble under my touch.
She reaches for my belt, her fingers working the buckle with shaking hands, and I help her yank it free, tossing it to the floor with a clatter.
I reach around and unclasp her bra, letting it fall away, and then my mouth is on her, kissing down her throat, acrossher collarbone, lower. She arches into me, her fingers raking through my hair, and I walk her backward until we reach the bed.
She sits and I follow her down, my hands working at her pants, tugging them off until she’s lying there in nothing but the lacy underwear. I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull them down slowly, sliding the fabric over her thighs, and she lifts her hips to help me, her skin soft as silk under my palms. I drag them all the way off, dropping them to the floor, and then she’s bare, her pussy glistening in the low light from the window.
She lies there completely exposed, biting her lip, watching me with those dark eyes that hold nothing back.
“Brooke,” I say. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Get over here,” she says, her voice low.
I don’t need to be told twice. I shed the rest of my clothes, kicking off my pants and boxers, my cock hard and aching for her. I look at her and our eyes lock, like we’re tethered together by something invisible. “Condom,” I say, reaching for the nightstand. “I have one in my wallet. We need to?—”
“I’m on the pill now,” she murmurs, pulling me back toward her. “Figured it was time to be a responsible adult.”
“Thank fuck,” I say, climbing over her, positioning myself between her thighs. I grip my cock, pressing the head against her wetness. I slide it over her clit and she arches into me with a whimper, her hands gripping my shoulders. I wait, teasing her, teasing us both, and then finally I slide inside. “Fuck, Brooke,” I groan, burying myself deep, unable to hold back. The feel of her with nothing between us is almost too much, hot and tight and perfect.
“Oh god,” she gasps, her walls clenching tight around me.
My cock pulses inside her and I grab her jaw gently, tilting her face so she has to look at me while I thrust into her, setting arhythm that has her gasping with every stroke. I need to see her eyes. I need this connection, more vulnerable and deeper than any sex we’ve had before, and the way she’s looking up at me right now, completely open and wanting, is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Look at me,” I tell her as I drive into her again. “Don’t look away.”
“I’m not,” she breathes, her nails digging into my shoulders as I rock my hips forward and grind deep. “Dominic, I couldn’t look away if I tried.”
“You feel incredible,” I tell her, pressing my forehead to hers, our breath mingling in the small space between us as I thrust into her again and again. “Brooke. Fuck. You have no idea.”
“So do you,” she gasps. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I shift my weight onto one arm and slide my other hand down between us, finding her clit and pressing in firm circles while I keep fucking her. Her reaction is immediate, her whole body arching up into mine, a moan tearing out of her that’s loud enough to make me grateful the walls in this hotel are thick.
“There,” she gasps, her nails raking down my back hard enough to sting. “Right there.”
I keep the pressure steady on her clit, and keep driving into her with slow, deep strokes that make her gasp. Her eyes are locked on mine, dark and desperate, and I watch every flicker of pleasure cross her face.
Her legs wrap tighter around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I groan at the way her pussy grips me, hot and slick and perfect. I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her while I fuck her, swallowing her moans, tasting the mezcal still lingering on her tongue. She kisses me back with equal intensity, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging gently, holding me close like she never wants to let go.
I roll my hips, grinding deep, and she whimpers. The sound does something primal to me, makes me want to spend the rest of my life pulling those noises out of her. I do it again, and again, finding the angle that makes her breath catch, that makes her nails dig crescents into my shoulders.
“Dominic,” she breathes.
I pull back just enough to look at her, to really look, because this is something I’ve never experienced before. This feeling like we’re two halves of a whole that’s been broken apart for years and is finally clicking back together. She must see it too, because her hand comes up to cup my face, and for a moment we just breathe together, our bodies still joined, still moving in that slow, deep rhythm.
Then she’s pushing at my shoulders, urging me to roll, and I go willingly, pulling her with me until she’s straddling my hips with my cock still buried inside her. She sits up above me, all bare skin and perfect tits and dark hair wild around her face, the city lights catching her from behind. She looks like a damn vision.
I groan when she rolls her hips, reaching up to take her hands and lacing our fingers together as she rides me. Those dark eyes look down at me, seeing straight through every wall I’ve ever built.
Her rhythm is slow and deliberate, grinding down onto me, taking me so deep I can feel myself hitting the end of her with every roll. Her breasts sway with the movement, and I release one of her hands to reach up and cup one, feeling the weight of it in my palm, brushing my thumb across her nipple.
She gasps, her rhythm faltering for a moment before she finds it again. Her head tips back, and she looks like something out of a fever dream I never want to wake up from.
