“Yeah, you do,” he murmurs seconds before he takes another greedy kiss that has me fisting his shirt—but I’m not sure if it’s to pull him closer or to push him away.
His kiss is like a drug. A sharp hit. A wicked high. A gateway to wanting more. “You’re right,” I say. “I lied. I want you just as bad. Just you. Just tonight.”
His eyes flash up to me, the warring emotions that have been in them ever since we left the restaurant are nowhere to be found. I only see lust. I only sense desire. “That’s all I can give you. I’m in a different city every night. A different bed. I’m not worthy of—”
I press my finger to his lips to quiet his words. To prevent him from rejecting me. With our foreheads resting against each other and our bodies ready to react, I whisper, “Just give me tonight. Just give me this once. Just this.”
“Shug.” The word sounds pained. Like a man on the edge of control. Like a man questioning his own resolve.
“No strings. No promises we’ll have to break. Just one night of sweet regret.”
He leans back, a lopsided grin on his handsome face. “That’s not much time to fulfill every goddamn fantasy I’ve had of you over the years.”
“You’ve fantasized about me?”
His chuckle is a low rumble that I can almost feel between my thighs. “More times than I can count.”
The pressure in my chest eases. The panic abates. “Then I guess we better get started.”
A feral groan echoes down the hallway as Vince launches himself at me right there against the door. The worry and anger from moments ago are quickly being erased from my head with each touch. After every kiss. With each fantasy about to be fulfilled.
We kiss with a hunger I’ve never had before. We touch with a desperation at levels I never knew existed.
It’s all so new yet familiar at the same time. The same angles, the same actions, but hell if the skill level hasn’t increased exponentially.
The difference?
At seventeen, the ache lighting every part of me on fire scared me. I was curious about the burn but afraid of what and who that made me.
Now? I’m older. I’m more experienced. I know that Vince is about to turn all those things inside out, flip them upside down.
Make the fantasy become a reality I fear I’ll never recover from.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bristol
Seven Years Ago
His hands are everywhere and not enough places at the same time. Fisting the back of my shirt when I want them on my skin. On my breasts when I want them between my thighs.
More.
It’s my only thought.
More.
His lips are on mine. On the slopes of my shoulders. His teeth scrape over my collarbone. His tongue wages an all-out war against my senses.
More.
Our shirts are over our heads the minute the door shuts at our backs. We don’t worry about finding the light switch because we are so consumed with each other and the fire that burns so goddamn bright between us.
We bump into the wall of the suite, the bed to the side of us, and our laughs that are smothered with kisses turn to groans as we settle against it. As the full weight of Vince’s body presses against mine and hints at the dark promise of what’s next.
My hands fist in his hair. My fingers scrape down his bare abdomen—long nails over corded muscles. My fingers undo his belt, then his zipper.
“I need you with less clothes on,” I murmur before nipping his bottom lip and cupping the bulge pressing against the seam of his jeans.
The groan he emits is feral as he pulls my head back to expose my neck. He scrapes his teeth over my skin and murmurs in my ear. “Do you want my cock, Shug? Will you take it like the good little girl you are? Will you let me fill you up until you can’t take any more of it and then let me push it in even farther? Will you scream my name when you come?”
The warmth of his breath.
His hard cock twitching in my hand.
The seduction in his words.
I arch my back to try and press my body against his, desperate for the connection with him.
His chuckle rumbles through me. “Greedy girl. Already wanting more when you haven’t even gotten any yet.” His hands still grip my hair as he slants his mouth over mine and takes until I can’t catch my breath. “I like that. I reward greed.” Another searing kiss, but this time he releases my hair and slides his hands down to my ass, pressing my body against his cock.
Teasing me.
Taunting me.
Warning me.
His lips are a whisper from mine, our eyes locked on each other’s through the dim light. Anticipation builds as my breathing labors. Desire overwhelms as he grows harder, and I become wetter.
And just as I think he’s going to kiss me again, he steps back, his gaze daring me. “Take off the rest of your clothes. I want to look at you.”
I swallow over a nervous lump in my throat but do exactly as he says. My insecurities hide in the darkness of the room. The fear of not feeling like I’m enough for him dissipates.
It’s his groan that I hear. The flare of heat in his eyes that I see. The, “Christ, you are gorgeous,” that has me standing taller under his praise. That has me feeling beautiful and fearless and desired.
Just like Vince always has.
“It’s your turn to watch, Shug. Don’t take your eyes off me. I love knowing how desperate you are to touch me. To taste me. To feel this inside you.” He sheds his pants on those last words and his cock springs free. The sight of it—thick and hard with a glisten of precome on its tip—has me swallowing forcibly.
He stands there in the same swath of moonlight I’m in, but for him it looks like he’s onstage and the spotlight is highlighting his beauty. The dark ink of his tattoos. The lick of his tongue to wet his lips. The bob of his cock in response to my stare.
“Is your pussy wet? Do your nipples ache for me to touch them? Is your clit swollen and ready to be played with?”
“Vince.” His name is a plea.
“Don’t worry, Shug, we’ve got all the time in the world.” He takes a step closer. “Time for us to use each other. The first round where we can finally pleasure each other.” Another step. “One where you can tell me what you want.” He reaches out and pats the V between my legs, causing shock waves to ricochet through me. “One where I can get mine.” This time he takes his hand, fists it around his cock so that we both watch as he pumps it slowly. “And then who knows what’ll come next.”
“Yes. Please.” The words are panted.
His chuckle is low and suggestive. “I don’t think you have any idea how much I like hearing those words come from your mouth.” He leans in and licks over the seam of my lips. My heart races. My nipples harden. The ache for him grows. “Get on the bed like a good girl and spread your legs so I can see what I want to fuck.”
Jesus.
I mean, my thoughts are as scrambled as my insides as I do exactly what Vince commands. This is a whole different side to him and I’m not complaining . . . nor did I ever think words like good girl would turn me on, but hell if arousal isn’t coating my inner thighs as I scoot back on the bed. Vince stands at the foot, his shoulders broad, the muscle in his jaw pulsing, and his fingers rolling a condom over his dick as he watches me open my thighs for him.
“Mmm. You listen so well,” he murmurs. “I bet your pussy tastes as good as it looks.”
I don’t even have time to squirm before he grabs my ankles, pulls me toward him, and he takes a long, wandering swipe of his tongue through my slit and closes his mouth over my clit and sucks.
My yelp turns into a mewl as my hips buck and my hands fly to tangle in his hair as sensations swamp me. This whole foreplay dance has made me more ready than I’ve ever been, and all I want is him in me. On me. Working me over.