"Everyone dances. Some just need the right partner."
I shouldn't have taken his hand or let him lead me to the dance floor. I definitely shouldn't have melted against him as his arm circled my waist.
"See? You dance beautifully."
We swayed, his thigh between mine, my arms around his neck. The room spun slightly.
"I want to take you upstairs," he murmured against my temple.
"Upstairs?"
"My suite. Unless I've misread this."
He hadn't. Every cell hummed with wanting him. It was madness—I'd known him hours, not days. I didn't do one-night stands.
But he didn't feel like a stranger. He felt like someone I'd been waiting to meet.
"You haven't misread anything," I whispered.
The elevator ride was torture—an elderly couple forced us apart. His eyes never left mine, his gaze a physical touch.
At the top floor, he led me to the double doors, produced a key card, and then paused.
"Last chance to change your mind."
I took the card and swiped it myself.
The air in Antonio's hotel suite was thick with tension, the kind that crackled between us like an electric current. I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, as his gaze raked over me with an intensity that made my skin flush.
His hands moved to my dress, pulling the zipper down in one smooth motion. The fabric pooled at my feet, and I stood before him in nothing but my bra and underwear. His eyes darkened as they roamed over my exposed skin.
"You're fucking stunning," he growled, his deep voice rumbling through me like a thunderclap.
His accent—something Southern European, thick with desire—sent a shiver down my spine. I felt his eyes on me, devouring me, and I couldn't help but step closer, pressing my body against his. Forthe first time in so long, I felt seen. Not as the quiet professional who blended into conference crowds, not as the woman men looked past. But as someone desired. Wanted. Worth pursuing. I felt the hard ridge of his cock through his pants, and a moan escaped my lips.
"Take me," I whispered, my voice hoarse with need. "Now."
Antonio didn't hesitate. His hands gripped my thighs, lifting me as he pressed me against the cold marble wall. His mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue demanding entrance, tasting me, claiming me. I moaned into his kiss, my nails digging into his broad shoulders. He tore at the delicate lace of my underwear, the fabric giving way with a sharp rip. The ruined panties fell to the floor, forgotten. The sound of ripping fabric only fueled my desire, and I arched into him, wanting more.
"Wet for me already," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and heavy. "So fucking beautiful."
His fingers slid between my folds, teasing, circling my clit before plunging inside, deep and deliberate.
I cried out, my body responding to his touch with a desperation that surprised even me.
"Need you inside me," I gasped, my body throbbing with need.
I felt his smirk against my skin, his dark hair falling over his forehead as he unbuckled his belt. His cock sprang free, thick and pulsing, and my mouth watered at the sight.
"Impatient, aren't we?" he teased, but his voice was rough, his control slipping.
He positioned himself at my entrance, teasing me with the tip, his eyes locked on mine. "Tell me you want it," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
"Fuck me, Antonio," I pleaded, my voice shaking. "Fill me up."
He thrust inside me in one smooth motion, his cock stretching me, filling me completely. I cried out, my head falling back as he began to move, slow and deliberate, his hips snapping with primal force. The wall felt solid against my back, his body pressing me into it, his muscles flexing with every stroke.
This was more than physical. The way he watched me, really watched me, like I was the only woman in the world—it broke something open inside me. Made me feel alive in a way I'd forgotten was possible.
