My palm slides up her ribcage, gripping hard as I pull her closer. She presses into me, her body pliant and eager. When I finally capture her lips, it’s not the controlled kiss I planned, but demanding, consuming. She meets me with equal hunger, her tongue sliding against mine like she’s been waiting for this.
The world narrows to us. To the way she gasps when I bite her lower lip, how her fingers tangle in my hair and pull me closer, the small sounds of approval she makes when my grip tightens on her hips. Her body arches into mine with each rough touch, and I take what she’s offering without apology.
I’m dimly aware of the train’s corridor, but all that matters is how she responds to every demanding touch, every bruising kiss, giving as good as she gets.
A door clicks open somewhere nearby, followed by a low wolf-whistle. “They’re enjoying this train ride way more than us,” a man mutters. His friend chuckles, and then their footfalls move away from us.
“We should probably get to your room before I end up fucking you here.” Her eyes dilate further, and I’m tempted to deliver on my promise. Except, there’s one thing we have to take care of first. “Do you have condoms?”
She nods. “I’ve got a box in my suitcase.”
I raise a brow, taking a step back to give her space to lead us to her room. “A box, huh? Fun plans for Kentucky.”
There’s a strange tightness in my chest at the thought of her with someone else. The idea of another man touching her makes something dark coil in my stomach.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I shake my head to clear the unwelcome thoughts. This is a night of physical attraction, nothing more. After tonight, we’ll never see each other again.
“I have complicated plans…And Dave’s a nice diversion.” She takes my hand, leading me a short distance down the corridor, stopping in front of a polished wood door with brass fixtures. The nameplate reads “Bedroom Suite C” in elegant script.
“Dave, huh?” That strange knot in my chest tightens, and I step closer to her, as if claiming her as mine. Ridiculous.
She turns, looking up at me, her eyes narrowed. “I hope you aren’t about to sex-shame me.”
I choke on a laugh. She holds my gaze without flinching, chin lifted, daring me to judge her. “No. Hell, I’m thrilled you’re prepared. But after tonight, he’s going to be less of a pleasant diversion.”
Her brows pull close. “Um, why?”
“Because I’m going to make you come so hard. I’m going to fuck you so thoroughly, you’ll be wishing it was me inside of you instead of that man. After tonight, you’re—” I catch myself before saying something insane like, you’re mine. The possessive claim sits heavy on my tongue. “—you’re going to find him less of a pleasant diversion.”
A flush spreads across her cheeks, but her eyes stay locked on mine. “I hope your dick is as big as your ego.”
I smirk. “It is.”
“And you actually know how to use it.”
My grin widens. “I do.”
Her lips curve as she shakes her head, her fingers playing with the key card, turning it over and over.
The train's gentle rocking makes her shoulder brush against my chest. “We'll see.” She looks away from me and slides the key card through the reader.
The door swings open. The bed dominates the small space, and my mind immediately goes to all the ways I could have her on it. The compact room means everything is within reach: the window she could brace against, the small armchair I could bend her over. My suite three cars down has so much more room, so many more surfaces, but right now, all I care about is getting her out of that dress and onto those crisp white sheets.
I step into the room behind her, already reaching for the hem of her dress. This is familiar territory. I know exactly how this goes. I’ll have her out of that dress in seconds, pressed against the window or bent over that chair, completely at my mercy while I—
She spins around in my arms, her palms flat against my chest. “What’s your favorite part?”
The question catches me off guard. “My favorite…?”
“When you’re with someone. What do you like most?” She traces the edge of my collar, light and teasing. “Taking control? Being in charge?” Her tone says she already knows the answer.
I shrug with one shoulder. “Both, I suppose.”
She hums thoughtfully, her touch still maddeningly light. “I had a feeling.” Her fingers find my tie, loosening it with deliberate slowness. “Do you want to throw me on that bed? Pin my wrists above my head? Take me. Make me beg?”
My pulse hammers against my collar. “Yes.”
