Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

"Hmm… maybe it's because you smell like a flower," he said on a smile.

I didn't say anything, I just smiled back and grabbed his hand and started walking toward the hotel as he grinned that heart-stopping grin at me.





CHAPTER 6


Carson



I took her by the hand and led her as fast as possible to the hotel. As we made our way through the lobby, her shorter legs speed-walked to keep up with me. It wasn't very chivalrous, I knew, but I was a desperate man. I didn't think I'd been in this bad a shape since… well, since ever. After standing at the fountain watching her eyes light up with excitement at the water display and then holding her in my arms, drinking in the feel of her, the smell of her, my blood was coursing with need. And not just a general need, a need for her, a need that was clawing it's way through my body, demanding to be satisfied. I barely knew her, and yet everything about Grace Hamilton went straight to my head, like a strong shot of whiskey, making my brain spin. She affected me in every way a woman could affect a man.

But I had promised her I'd take care of her, take control. I needed to keep a hold of mine if I was going to put her at ease and make her feel safe enough to give herself to me fully. Somehow I knew that instinctively.

Give herself to me fully? I slammed the brakes on. No, not fully. It was sex and it was a good time–just for the weekend. It was all I had to offer. And it was all she wanted to take. Still, I wanted this to be a satisfying experience for both of us–in as many ways as possible.

As we walked through the casino toward the elevators, I saw a group of people I recognized from the business, here for the expo, standing off to the side, talking and laughing loudly. I put my arm around Grace and nuzzled into her, trying to make sure none of them recognized me and called out my name. I didn't typically socialize with any of them, but they'd probably know who I was. The last thing I wanted was to remind Grace what I did or get sidetracked for even a minute from our destination–the privacy of my hotel room.

We stepped on to the elevator and I asked, "Do you need to stop at your room for anything?" My voice sounded raspy, even to my own ears.

"Yes. If you don't mind," she said quietly, her eyes lingering on mine for a couple beats before they dropped to my mouth. My dick throbbed in my jeans. You could cut the sexual tension in the air with a butter knife. I turned to the panel of numbers and pushed her floor number with my thumb, again and again, as if that would speed the elevator up.

We rode up silently and made our way to her room. She let us in and I stood by the door while she quickly gathered a few of her things. Then we got back on the elevator and rode a couple floors up to my room. I didn't feel the need to ask her what she was thinking. Her facial expression told me that she was steady, her eyes reflecting back the lust I was feeling.

I unlocked my door and let us in. I threw my wallet and key card on the desk and turned to Grace. She was standing behind me, just having placed her travel bag on the floor and I took the few steps to bring myself inches from her. Electricity sparked between us. We both knew exactly what was about to happen. We stood silently, staring at each other, her breathing speeding up and a faint color rising in her cheeks. As I watched her, holding myself back from touching her, I felt like I was going to burst out of my skin.

"You want this too, Grace." I wasn't asking her a question.

She started to say something but it hitched in her throat and she simply nodded, her eyes twin pools of want. For me.

I closed the small distance between us and took her face in my hands. She was watching me carefully. I brought my lips to hers, taking a gentle taste of her lush mouth. Our first kiss had been angry, harsh, lustful, unplanned. The second one had been quick, almost chaste. This one was slow and deep, our tongues meeting and tangling, tasting. Each stroke of her tongue on mine sent an electric current straight to my cock. She tasted like fucking heaven. I was vibrating like a tuning fork. But I was going to take this slow. Now that we were here, now that we had both made it clear that we wanted each other, there was no rush. It was just her and me and the long night that stretched out before us. I couldn't help the deep moan that rose from my chest at the thought. My cock surged forward in my jeans.

She brought her arms around me and pressed her body closer, a small moan coming up her throat too. I felt that moan in every cell of my body.

After several minutes, or weeks, I couldn't be sure, I broke from her mouth and we both took in deep breaths of air, our eyes meeting again. Hers were heavy-lidded and shining with desire–I was sure mine were too.

I brought my lips to her ear, letting my teeth graze over her lobe, and asked her quietly, "How do you want to come the first time, Grace?"

I heard her breath hitch and then start coming out in sharp pants as I continued, "Against my mouth? Around my cock? How, Buttercup? It won't be just once, so I want to know how you want it the first time."

"Your mouth, Carson," she breathed out, more color rising in her cheeks. I could see her body trembling slightly.

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