Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
She wants me.
And I want her.
“I know what I’m doing.” The arrogant vow is made with gentle kisses to her mouth—the right, then left, then fully centered as I let my tongue dive past her lips to write the promise deep.
“Thank fuck!” she sighs as she runs her fingers into my hair and kisses me back.
When the elevator dings and the doors open, we don’t break apart. Not until a voice says, “Getting off?”
I feel Sam’s smile before I see it, but when I open my eyes, it’s just as bright and mischievous as I thought it’d be. “I’m trying to, but you’re cock-blocking me here. And I want what he’s packing.”
The woman huffs in distaste as Sam pulls me past her. Habits are hard to break, though, and I murmur, “Sorry, excuse us.” The apology is not accepted, and the woman gets on the elevator looking as though we left a splattering of sex in the space just by being in there. “This way,” I tell Sam, guiding her to my room.
I make quick work of the electronic lock and hold the door open, waiting for her to decide again. Sam doesn’t seem impressed as she enters the room, which is oversized and decorated in what a designer would probably call ‘modern luxury’.
The king-size bed has more pillows than any two people might need, the white sheets are that perfect combination of crisp and soft, and the headboard is tufted ivory velvet. Behind the floor-to-ceiling drapery is a view of the hotel’s garden, which can be perfectly appreciated from the chaise lounge chair, and the desk holds a large ginger-jar style lamp along with my laptop, which sits where I left it earlier when I wrapped up work to go downstairs for the club meeting.
None of that matters to Sam, or to me right now.
I yank at my tie, blindly pulling the knot free, but become instantly distracted when I see Sam reaching beneath her hair to the nape of her neck. “Let me,” I offer.
She spins. “There’s a small button here, and then a zipper on the side,” she answers helpfully. The button is easily conquered, but I take my time with the zipper, letting the backs of my fingers brush over her skin and the silk of her bra. Sam dips her shoulders, letting the top fall to her waist as she turns back to face me.
The pink fabric is puddled above her hips, exposing the cleavage that’s been teasing and tempting me all night. I dance my fingers over her mounds, touching her gently and enjoying the responding gooseflesh that rises in the wake of my touch.
“I want to worship every inch of you. Feel, taste, enjoy your skin until you’re ready for me.”
There’s a sassy comeback poised on her tongue, but instead of waiting for it, I kiss her hard enough that whatever she was going to say disintegrates between us, along with her jumpsuit as it falls to the floor and she steps out of it without breaking our connection.
Until she pulls back, taking my hand in hers to guide me to the chaise. I finally get a full look at her. She’s stunning in her matching bra and panties, which are a nude color a few shades darker than her tanned skin.
“Gorgeous,” I whisper. Her smile says ‘I know’ as she lies back. Her hair fans around her in a dark halo against the navy fabric of the chair.
Leaning over her, I lay a line of hot, wet kisses over the exposed flesh of her shoulders and down her collarbones, getting a hint of her perfume as I get closer to her breasts. I plant my knee between her thighs, and her hips buck as she rubs herself on my leg. It's one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And felt, because I can feel the heat from her core, the slickness spilling from her to create a wet spot on the silk of her panties.
“I want to see you,” I confess. She responds instantly, expertly undoing her bra and dropping it to the floor and then slipping her hands into the sides of her panties to wiggle them down. I help her, rolling them down her legs, which she lifts into the air. I press a kiss to her ankle . . . her calf . . . the inside of her knee.
Working my way up, I let my eyes trace over her center. She’s gorgeous there too—bare and pink, with shiny juices coating her skin. I repeat the kisses up her other leg, wanting to appreciate her every inch.
“Can I taste you?” I ask as my fingers drift higher and higher. In response she relaxes, letting her legs fall open to give me full access. I groan as I sink to the chaise between her legs, giving myself room to work. More kisses lead me to just above her clit. I use my thumbs to spread her wide, and as I meet her eyes, I lay a long lick to the sensitive nub. She spasms already, not coming but overwhelmed at even the gentle sensation. Still, she grabs at my head, pulling me in for more, which I gladly deliver. I test and tease, learning what she responds favorably to, and then slip a finger inside her, curling it to pet along her front wall.