‘Who do you think you are, my father?’
‘I’m not averse to being called daddy, but that’s a privilege you have to earn.’ The words roll like silk from his tongue; a tongue that’s especially skilled if I had to guess.
‘I’m not calling you daddy.’
Then he leans forward, and with the backs of his fingers, he slides the curtain of hair from my shoulder, sliding them down my arm until my hand is in his. He’s all lithe movement as he stands, and I’m... standing along with him as he murmurs his answer.
‘We’ll see.’
In the occupied elevator, Kit pulls me back to stand in front of him. We haven’t spoken, just walked through the hotel hand in hand. To anyone looking on, we probably look like we’ve known each other forever, and we’re just heading back to our room to chill. I doubt anyone would peg us as two people off to fuck.
Oh, God. He’s going to break me apart.
The doorsdingand open. More people crowd in, and as I step backwards to make room, Kit slides his hand around to my stomach, pressing me to him. As I inhale, there’s a little catch in my breath. His hand is warm and solid, but it’s almost as though he’s touching the most intimate part of me
‘You’re not the only one who’s pierced, honey bee.’ His voice is barely a whisper with his lips at my ear. The pulse in my throat beats wildly, his large hand splayed across my stomach and over my belly button ring. He must’ve noticed it at the club in the corridor—it’s something I don’t even think about anymore. I’ve had it since I was seventeen! Oh, but I’m aware of it now, pressing against his hand. And more to the point, I’m aware of his hardness pressing into me from behind, which must mean—
The monster in his trousers is pierced.
I’m so turned on right now, but desperate to keep my hands to myself—to stop myself from turning, throwing myself up against him, and gluing my mouth to his face. And in another change of pace, I like that he has a nickname for me even though, technically, no one calls me by my real name. But when he whispers it like that, it’s like his own special claiming of me.Not that I’d ever admit it.
‘Are you thinking about it?’ he whispers as he toys with a lock of my hair before sliding it behind my ear. I shiver and nod, my knees as unstable as a newborn foal, and my thoughts just as wobbly. Of course, I’m thinking about his piercing. Of what it’ll feel like against my tongue, of what it’ll feel like inside me, when he kisses the soft skin behind me ear and whispers, ‘Good girl.’
The last couple steps out of the elevator. Only four more floors to go, according to the buttons on the panel. My room isn’t on any of them, but it seems Kit’s is.
‘Don’t turn around.’ His hand presses me against him again. But for a jagged exhale and a small nod, I don’t move, and I can’t find any words to answer as it dawns on me that I’ve never felt so turned on as I do now. And I’m going to pretty much let him do what he wants to me because his direction is turning me the hell on.
His hand glides to my back, pulling on the ties of my dress. It gapes at the front but doesn’t open. At least, not until his hands begin to undo the knot. My heart beats like runaway hooves, my mind torn. I mean, I want to get naked with this man, I just don’t want to do it in public, or in a hotel lift that, no doubt, has security!
Without real planning or thought, I lift my foot and prod his foot with the point of me heel in warning.
Okay, so I’m not as open-minded as my lust-filled right brain would like to think.
‘No?’ He sounds amused. ‘Then give me your knickers.’
How can that ridiculous word sound sexy?
‘What?’ I try to turn around with little effect, considering his hold on me.
‘You heard me.’ His hands drift to my hips, the smile in his words very clear. ‘Take them off. I dare you.’
‘What are you, twelve or something?’
‘I was fourteen when a girl first took her knickers off for me.’
‘And a boy? How old were you then?’
‘Ah. I see how it is.’ The husky timbre of his voice twists my insides. ‘You’re a fan of a little man lovin’.’
I bite my lip to stop myself from responding truthfully, answering with a saucy, ‘And you’re not?’ when his answer whips any more wisecracks out of me.
‘I was seventeen. But he didn’t need to be naked to suck me off.’ I whimper, lost in the imagery—a younger Kit and a faceless man on his knees. ‘Take them off, darlin’. I’ll make it worth your while.’
I slip my hands under the hem of my dress, sliding the scrap of cream lace down my thighs and stepping out of them. The feeling of the fabric of his pants cause a shiver to roll right through me. If he wasn’t holding me right now, I think I’d fall.
As the doors open one last time, I turn and feed them into his hand with a kiss.
