Maybe I owed it to my teenage self. I could put the years of “what if” to rest and move on. Besides, it had been months since I’d even been kissed, let alone properly laid.
There was also the possibility that he would be terrible in bed. That thought cheered me considerably. One mediocre roll in the hay and Lucian Rollins would be out of my system forever.
“Never play poker.”
Lucian’s sudden proclamation had me blinking as I dug through my clutch for the key card.
“What? Why?”
He shook his head. “Your face broadcasts every thought like an open book.”
I scoffed. “It does not.”
He took the card from my hand and opened my door. “The only way sex will be disappointing is if it’s your fault.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s not what I was thinking,” I lied. “And if the sex is bad, it’s one hundred percent your fault. I’m great at sex.”
“We’ll see,” he said before pushing me across the threshold into the room.
It was a nice space chosen with the practicality of a one-night stand in mind. There was a fluffy king-size bed with the extra pillows I’d asked for. The bathroom had flattering lighting and a tiled walk-in shower. And best of all, there was an extensive twenty-four-hour room service menu I could order off once I’d kicked Lucian to the curb.
He shut the door and locked it, then turned to face me.
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like Little Red Riding Hood coming face-to-face with the big, bad wolf. He was so…big. So frowny. He was looking at me like I’d pissed him off somehow in the last four seconds.
Nervously, I wet my lips and caught the interest in those cold, gray eyes.
He was standing legs braced, hands fisted at his sides, staring me down like I was the enemy…or a conquest.
Were we really about to do this? Would this end up being just one more dirty, little secret between the two of us?
“We should discuss ground rules,” I announced.
Lucian set my key card down with a snap on the table, his eyes no longer cold. Now they smoldered with a heat that licked at my skin.
What had I been saying?
Oh right. Rules. Rules were good.
“I don’t think we should kiss—”
I didn’t get to finish the sentence because Lucian’s hand snaked out, gripped my wrist, and yanked me into him. Hard. I was off-balance and fell into his chest. My bones reverberated from the collision of our bodies.
And then his mouth crashed down on mine.
Dear God.
There was nothing icy about the man against me. He was hot and hard.
I opened my mouth to breathe or insult him, but he took advantage and his tongue swept past my lips. It plundered as it went, turning my insults into unintelligible, needy moans.
It was pure possession. With one kiss, Lucian held my body captive.
He kissed like he’d invented it. And I followed his lead as if I had no choice in the matter.
He dragged his mouth away from mine and swore. “Fuck,” he muttered, glaring down at me.
“Problem?” It came out as a breathless taunt.
“You’re my problem,” he growled.
I shoved at the unyielding chest beneath the crisp button-down. “If you’re just going to fight with me, I’m going back to the bar.”
I made it exactly two inches in the direction of the door before his hands were on me again. A delicious sense of triumph rolled up my spine. It was the biggest win I’d scored against him in years. His self-control was—in my opinion—infuriating.
This time, he didn’t just pull me to him, he lifted me off the floor and pinned me against the closest wall…with his body. My feet dangled inches above the carpet as his king-size erection lodged itself against me, effectively skewering me to the wall like a butterfly in a shadow box.
I was a lust-filled rag doll, and his casual show of strength had my vagina swooning. He looked at me like he wanted to destroy me. And I loved it. There was no hiding behind a cold, calculating mask now.
The man may have had a poker face, but there was no such thing as a poker dick.
As if to demonstrate, he rolled his hips, thrusting powerfully against me.
I groaned irritably against his mouth. “Of course you have a big dick.”
“And of course you’re disappointed by that fact when I’m about to fuck you with it,” he shot back.
I hitched my thighs around his hips as high as my dress would allow. “I’d always thought the whole all-powerful, shadowy puppet master thing was an overcompensation for a cocktail wiener.”
“Your fucking mouth,” he growled. He used both hands to shove the skirt of my dress up around my hips. I gasped as his erection lodged itself against my pretty, one-night-stand panties.
“What about it?”
“It’s why you have to troll bars for unsuspecting men. Why you aren’t dating. Why you’re not married with four kids.” He punctuated each sentence with another bruising kiss.
“Yeah? Well, at least it’s not my personality. You’re stupidly hot and ridiculously rich, and even that isn’t enough to keep a girlfriend for longer than a few weeks.” I nipped his lower lip with my teeth and he hissed.
He pulled back a few inches, leaving us connected below the waist. “How would you know that unless you’ve been paying attention?”
He was teasing me, body, mind, and soul, and for the first time, it occurred to me that I might not be up to the challenge.
“I don’t pay attention to anything that involves you,” I insisted. “I hate being bored.”
His exhale was closer to a growl than a sigh. With one hand, he took both my wrists and pinned them over my head. “Goddammit, why are you so fucking small?” He gritted out the words like they physically pained him.
His next kiss was tempered, restrained.
My eyelids popped open. Lucian Rollins was afraid of hurting me. The big, evil asshole was afraid of fucking me too hard with his giant penis.
“Jesus, big guy. I’m petite, not fragile. Get over it.”
“Just because I want you out of my life doesn’t mean I want to hurt you.”
I gripped his waist with my thighs and squeezed. “Either fuck me hard and fast or get out of my room so I can find someone who will. I don’t want to be treated like some glass figurine.”
“You always think you can handle more than you can,” he said, removing his hand from my wrists and curling his fingers into the neckline of my dress.
“And you always think I’m weaker than I am,” I hissed.
With one sharp tug of his fingers, the fabric ripped all the way to my belly button and my breasts spilled free.
“Christ.”
Lucian’s nostrils flared and his gaze scored my chest, making my nipples pucker, my breasts feel swollen and heavy.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was us panting.
“Damn it, Lucifer. You owe me a new one-night-stand dress.”
“Try going downstairs now.” His words were a low rumble of thunder.
My nipples hardened to rosy points.
“You think I don’t have a backup dress in that bag?” I taunted. I leaned forward until my lips brushed his ear. “That one shows even more cleavage.” I nipped his earlobe and felt the shudder that rolled through him.
“You’re not leaving this room,” he vowed.
My snarky comeback was lost as he filled his hands with my breasts.
My head fell back against the wall with a thunk. His palms were warm and firm against my soft, sensitive flesh. I’d developed early and spent my teen years wishing the puberty fairy hadn’t been quite so generous, but in this moment, it was all worth it.
My stoic enemy couldn’t suppress a groan of satisfaction as his hot mouth closed over one needy nipple and began to suck.
I gasped. I didn’t mean to. It seemed safer, smarter to control my outward reactions. But the hungry pulls of his mouth, the throb of his God-given erection between my legs had my head spinning.
His mouth was performing magic with tongue and suction. His eyes were closed, fringed with long, dark lashes. What he was doing to me didn’t feel like a by-product of hate. It felt like reverence.