“Aah . . . that’s a no.” I pull out of the kiss. “That is not my thing. I’ve never even done that before.”
His eyes widen in amazement. “So . . . it’s all mine?” he whispers in awe.
“No,” I reply. “It’s mine, actually.”
His eyes blaze with fire, and damn it, why did I even joke around about that subject with a sexual deviant? This is going to come back and bite me on the ass . . . literally.
The bartender comes over. “You two after anything?”
Christopher’s eyes flick to me. “You want to get going to somewhere else?”
“No.” I smile. “I’m happy with what I have right here.”
We burst through the hotel room door. Our lips are locked.
Desire between us has hit fever pitch.
The apartment is darkened, lit only by lamps.
The mood in here is sexual, but maybe that’s the company I’m with.
Christopher Miles is sexual.
It’s late. We didn’t even leave the hotel. We drank and ate and laughed right downstairs, and it’s already the best night of my life.
Christopher bends and lifts my dress over my head, and the room falls silent.
His dark eyes drop down my body. He licks his lips as he drinks me in.
I stand before him in nothing but lace underwear and high heels.
“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to touch you like this?” he murmurs as his lips take mine. His tongue swipes tenderly through my lips, and my eyes close.
Oh . . .
“How many times I’ve jerked off imagining it was you?”
I smile against his lips as we kiss.
He undoes my bra and slowly takes it off. His eyes drop to my full breasts, and he inhales sharply. He cups them in his hands. His thumbs dust back and forth over my hardened nipples as he kisses me.
He drops to the floor and undoes my stilettos. With his eyes locked on mine, he licks up my thigh, and I hold his shoulders for support as I watch.
He kisses me there . . .
I can’t breathe.
Thump, thump, thump, goes my heart.
Oh god, can we just get on with this? I’m so nervous that I’m about to pass out.
He pulls my panties to the side and licks me with his thick strong tongue, and I shudder.
It’s been a long time.
“Hmm,” he moans into me. He stands as if spurred on and takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. The room is lit only by the lamp. The ambience in here is perfect.
He lays me down on the bed, and then he slides my panties down and spreads my legs.
“That’s it,” he whispers. His voice is deep, husky. Different from how it normally sounds.
He runs his hand down my face, over my breasts, and down between my legs. Without hesitation, he slides his finger deep inside of me and inhales sharply. “Fucking hell, you feel good,” he breathes.
I clench around him, and arousal blazes in his eyes. “Do that again.”
I do it again, and his jaw tics. He stands with urgency and kicks off his shoes. Then, with his eyes locked on mine, he undoes the buttons on his shirt, and his beautiful body comes into view: broad tanned chest, stomach rippled with muscle, and a trail of dark hair that disappears into the top of his jeans.
I hold my breath as he slides down the zipper on his jeans and then slides his jeans and boxers down and takes them off, and my eyes widen in horror.