“Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t want to be?” Pressing my hips against her, I move so she’s bowing back over the table and slide my hand into her hair, threading lightly in her roots. The tips of our noses brush as I ghost my mouth over hers, teasing but not kissing.
Desire builds in my chest, like water held back by a dam.
“That whole ballroom was stuffed full of beautiful, elegant women tonight. Women who I probably wouldn’t have had to pay for.”
My other hand pushes back against her, moving higher up her thigh, until I’m close to the spot I’ve just tattooed. She opens to me and our breaths mingle, passing interchangeably between parted lips.
“But all I saw was you.”
A soft gasp escapes when my fingers drift around the tattoo, soothing the heated flesh, and I swallow it, sealing our mouths together.
Her answering moan damn near unravels me, and I’m practically climbing on top of her in my search for more.
More friction.
More sweetness.
More of her.
Wiggling her hips, she kicks out of the NYU sweatpants and wraps her legs tentatively around my waist. I feel her hands slip up my back, roving over the raised lines of each of my tattoos. My hands fall to her hoodie, hooking beneath the hem.
I draw her bottom lip into my mouth, sucking sharply as I begin lifting the hoodie up.
She jumps, yanking back for a moment, holding my hands in place. Anxiety colors her features, and I frown.
“I need to see all of you,” I say, but she just shakes her head.
“Shirt stays on. Please.”
My jaw clenches, irritation slinking through my nerves. “You realize I saw you topless earlier?”
“An innocent accident,” she says, shrugging one shoulder.
It’s like she thinks that remaining clothed will protect her from me.
“Fine.”
Releasing the hoodie, my fingers dip lower, traveling lightly over her pubic bone. Her face seems to tighten and soften at the same time, as if she likes what I’m doing, but it pains her to admit.
“Then I want more.”
Teeth sinking into her bottom lip, she hesitates. “I guess we can keep kissing—”
Snorting, I pull back and smooth a palm down the front of my jeans, cutting her off mid-sentence; her eyes widen as they track the movement, taking in the sight of my erection straining against the fabric.
“I don’t have a condom,” I say, cursing myself internally for not thinking to grab one from the penthouse. Though, to be fair, I really hadn’t planned on needing one. “But I would always regret it if I left tonight without getting to taste you.”
She blinks several times, her blush darkening and crawling down her neck.
I can’t help but wonder if it stretches farther.
Short breaths puff from her chest, and she glances back at the door Gio and Jenna went through. “What if someone comes back?”
“They won’t. I’ll be done before they do.”
“They won’t come back, or you’ll finish before they do?” she rasps. “Those are two different things.”
“You’ll finish before they do.”
“This seems like a bad idea.”
“The worst,” I agree. “We’ll probably regret it in the future.”
She frowns. “You think?”
“Undoubtedly.”
I don’t mention that my regrets will come in the form of an obsession, one that’s been brewing on the outskirts of my mind all night. Once I’ve tasted her, I know I’ll never have enough.
“But who the fuck cares about tomorrow? Just enjoy the right now with me, and deal with everything else later. Okay?”
I pause, watching her for signs of discomfort. It’s there, veiled beneath layers she’s erected in an attempt to hide it away. But I see it.
Finally, she gives a slight nod, and the pressure releases in my chest like water draining from a bathtub.
“Okay.”
Dropping to my knees, I run my hands up her thighs, fitting my shoulders between them. “You smell so good. Like peppermint.”
“It’s a lotion,” she breathes, the sound barely registering.
“Scoot closer, pretty girl. If you won’t show me everything, I at least want to see this perfect cunt.”
“You’re extremely demanding.” But she obeys anyway, shimmying forward so her ass is hanging half off the edge of the table.
“Please accept my tongue as an apology.” Her thighs flex, pressing against me as if she’s trying to close them. Trying to hide from me.
I curl two fingers into the lace crotch of her thong, tug it to the side, and lean back on my heels to admire the shape of her glistening sex. Like the dewy petals of a pink rose blossom, she opens up, perfection in the form of the sweetest sin.
“Jesus. How long have you been wet for me?” I taunt, leaning in to lap from top to bottom, spreading her arousal along her lips.
“I-I don’t—”
“Were you going to keep it a secret?” Pressing the flat of my tongue against her swollen clit, I soak in the soft vibrations, flicking the tip gently. “Pretend I didn’t have an effect on you, and then what, angel? Were you going to touch yourself to the thought of me tonight?”
My licks turn languid, broad swipes along her seam as I grow more starved for her.
“No,” she gasps out, hips bucking up.
“You’re a filthy little liar.”
One of my fingers moves, teasing her slick entrance at the same time I pull her clit between my lips and suck. Her head falls back, and I moan as I watch her break apart, alternating between massaging her flesh with my tongue and swirling in circular motions.
I pull back just enough to speak around her. “But goddamn, do you taste good. So fucking perfect.”
Diving back in before she can reply, I take note of what has her panting and squirming and redouble my efforts. Sparks of pleasure rain down my back like hellfire, and I feel that familiar heaviness in my balls as my cock hardens to the point of pain, threatening to release from the sound of her enjoyment alone.
I’m not thinking about anything else as I work her over, pushing my index finger into her gently. She’s tight, impossibly so, and I imagine her inner muscles suffocating my dick, milking me dry as I curl and knead, searching for that sweet spot.