The dark heat in his eyes blasts through me, and I feel it curl in my belly and settle comfortably between my legs.
“Your bedroom…” I whisper and subtly move so my body is pressed to his. “Is it far?”
Chapter Five
Antonio
I keep her hand in mine like I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I let it go.
The elevator ride is too short and too long at the same time—too short because I’m still breathing her in, too long because every second that passes is another second I’m not doing what I’ve been thinking about since the second she walked into the ballroom.
The doors open, and I’m already moving, pulling her along.
The hall is quiet compared to the ballroom, with lighting low enough to make everything feel private. I guide her out quickly. She keeps up, those long legs eating up the ground just as eagerly as mine.
I want them wrapped around me.
We round the corner, and she looks up, taking in the corridor like she’s cataloging it even now—posture, exits, cameras. That sharpness doesn’t disappear just because she’s tipsy. It’s part of her. It’s one of the things that hooked me.
“Ooh,” she says, voice bright with the last of her laughter, “a suite. Nice.”
I glance at her. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”
Her eyes slide to mine, blue and warm in a way I didn’t think they could be. “I can tell.”
I stop walking and turn to face her, holding her by her upper arms.
“Elsa,” I said, my voice rough with need, “are you drunk? Are you too drunk for this?”
She lets out a half-laugh and moves in, pressing that body—I was right, perfect—against mine.
“Antonio,” she says, her breath coated in champagne, brushing over my lips. “I was a little tipsy half an hour ago. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? We had quite a few.”
This time, she brushes her lips over mine and teases her tongue over them, moaning softly. I tighten my hold on her and bring her in close, crushing her lips to mine.
She moans. “If you don’t get that room door open now, you’re going to get us arrested.”
Not bothering to let her go, I reach into my pocket for the key card and nearly swear because my hands are too steady to be shaking and yet they are. Not nerves. Impatience. The kind that makes you fumble even when you’re good at everything.
It doesn’t help that her hands are running all over my body, and her lips have latched onto my earlobe, making me go cross-eyed.
The card catches between my fingers. I pull it free, swipe once—too fast. The light flashes red.
Elsa’s voice is a soft, desperate whine in my ear. “Antonio.”
I force myself to slow down, swipe again. Green.
The lock clicks.
I push the door open and drag her through the threshold with me, one step, two, and then I’m already turning, already backing her into the door before it can swing shut all the way. My palm hits the wood beside her head, and the door thumps closed behind her.
Our lips are fused before the door has fully closed. Her back meets the wood and draws an “oomph” out of her. I taste it on my tongue.
Her fingers clutch my lapels, then slide up into my hair, and I can’t help the low groan that tears out of me as she tilts her head and deepens the kiss. I press my hips forward, letting her feel how much I want her. My cock is hard and demanding against the fabric of my pants, and I know she feels it.
She does. Her hips rock against mine, sending another wave of pleasure through my body.
