“I showered right before coming.”Oh…Since he continues coming closer, his face inches from mine, I keep stepping back until I’m stopped by the bed. “And I can’t let you get rid of the evidence, red. I want to see it.”
“See what?”
“How much you want me.”
This only causes more “evidence” to coat the lace of my underwear, and I press my knees together, desperate to muffle how my core aches. A lot. I want him a lot. Which is disconcerting, to say the least.
He grabs my coat and throws it on an armchair to the side. Then, his fingers brush against my shoulder, and he rids me of my clutch bag. He dips a hand in his pocket, and when he takes out two condoms from there and throws them on the bed behind me, I sense my face warm up. I’m as mesmerized as the first time when he removes his leather jacket, revealing muscular arms covered in intricate drawings. This is another reason why we’re here. I want to discover it all.
When he bends toward my face with his to the side, I’m struck by a surge of cowardice.
“You-you said we’d take it slow,” I remind him, flustered.
“Oh, but this is slow, red.”
“Then what is fast?”
“Fast is me pouncing on you as soon as we passed through that door. Fast is me ramming into you within seconds, like I’ve been eager to do since I found you perched on that stool last week. Fast is you already moaning my name because I’m balls deep into your tight little cunt.”
These crude, almost vile words shouldn’t do the things they do to me. I should find them revolting and walk out because who is he to treat me so crassly? But in that very moment, as my body contends with desires I’ve never experienced before, I realize no one’s ever wanted me with the intensity he does. And I’ve never needed someone so much in my life.
This is what Hana spoke of. This is pure, unadulterated lust. This is sex in its truest and most potent form. And it’s about time I experienced it.
“Ah, then if this is slow,” I say, pushing myself up on the tips of my Louboutins.
I see how my boldness surprises him, but he doesn’t recoil when my lips meet his. It takes him a couple of seconds to gather himself, then all hell breaks loose.
His powerful hands slither on the silk of my dress as he wraps his arms around me, and then I’m caged in his tight embrace, my entire front plastered onto his. His head tilts to the side when he deepens our kiss, and the warm and wet brush of his tongue drags across my lips.
Damned be everything I know and who I am. For now, I’m whatever he wants me to be. Time to finally let loose and prove to everyone that I’m not a block of ice or a frigid bitch.
I part my lips, responding to his lewd request. A split second later, his deft tongue slips into my mouth, famished and daring. While he explores this part of me with adamant passion, his hands course over my body, tugging and pulling, igniting intense shivers wherever he touches.
This brings me back to a week ago when I panicked and abandoned him in the lobby downstairs. This kiss feels just as good as then, but the promise of what’s to come makes it even better—if that’s possible. It isn’t just him trying to sway my mind in his favor. It’s a preamble for the sex we’re about to have.
My fingers climb up his broad torso, exploring the tight muscles over his T-shirt, and my hand slips around his nape while the other one grabs onto his shoulder. When his devious hands dig into my behind and shove me into his erection, a wanton moan escapes me. He’s so hard against my core, the bulge alarmingly imposing.
Once more, his version of slow gives me a rush of adrenaline, like I just jumped off a plane and am free-falling. But I don’t even have a parachute to slow my descent.
Heaven’s sake, this is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced, and neither of us is even naked yet.
“You want this, red?” he groans into our kiss. Another moan from me, another shiver that spreads from my core to my extremities. When I don’t answer, too overwhelmed for it, he pulls me harder against him. “You want my cock? My pierced cock?”
“Yes…”
“Will you take it all? Every last inch of it?”
“I’ll try.”
My answer, although genuine, triggers his laughter. It comes in the way of our embrace, but he finds something else to focus on. I stand still before him as he pulls down the zipper on the back of my dress. I let him, discarding my modesty, and when he takes a step back, I use the distance to admire his gorgeous features once more. He really is a magnificent specimen.
I barely notice when he pushes the straps of my dress to the side, but the garment falls into a murmur of silk. His pupils double in size when he takes me in, and I fight the urge to shield myself from his penetrative stare.
Because sex was the determined outcome of our encounter, I’m wearing the prettiest lingerie set I own—a cream lace duo that almost matches my skin tone. He says nothing for the longest time, his eyes ravenously devouring me. When he unconsciously reaches down for his crotch and gives his hard-on a pinch and a tug through his jeans, I urgently squeeze my thighs together. That part of him will be in me soon, and everything in me longs to fast forward.
“Fucking hell, red…” he mutters.
“Your turn,” I order, desperate to discover the rest of his tattoos.
