We stood in silence in the elevator, as the floors dinged ever upward, until we emerged on the penthouse floor. He led me to a door marked City Suite, and I stepped through as he held the door for me.
Polished marble floors led me to floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the sparkling city below. I stared at the glimmering lights as Landon uncorked a bottle of red wine, pouring two glasses and bringing me one. We stood side by side, watching the city. It was surreal, to be so far from home and yet still with him, right now.
He flew here for me.
Something about that had softened the walls I’d put up. A soft touch, few whispered words, and I knew they’d crumble all over again.
I sipped at the wine as he led me through the living room, anticipation building like a rising tide.
I expected him to lead me to the bed, but he didn’t. He paused, taking off his cufflinks, slipping off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair. And then we walked through another doorway.
The bathroom was just as big as the bedroom, with a jetted, double-sized tub sitting under a big picture window. We were on the highest floor of the tallest building in downtown, so there were no window coverings to block out the stars and the moon. He took my wine glass, setting it down on the edge of the tub.
He leaned forward, as if he planned to touch me, but instead of slipping his hand around my back, he turned the faucet handle just behind me.
Water poured out, the sound echoing in the cavernous space.
He took my face in his hands, let’s his thumb stroke back and forth along my jaw line as he tipped my head back, claiming my mouth with a kiss.
It was soft and deep all at once, his tongue tracing across my mouth, begging my lips to part. I obliged, letting him slip his tongue inside my mouth as he tangled his fingers in my hair.
The sound of running water faded as I stepped closer, my hands sliding up his back, wrapping around his shoulders. One of his hands was still buried in my hair as the other found its way to the buttons on my shirt, and one-by-one they popped free, exposing my purple-lace bra. He slid my shirt over my shoulders, and it dropped to the floor.
He gently tugged my hair, tipping my head back further so that he could kiss his way from one collarbone to the other, so that he could access the hollow of my neck, nibbling on my ear as my breathing turned rapid.
And then he stepped away, turning the water off. His gaze raked over my body, as if memorizing my curves, memorizing the way I looked standing in this posh bathroom at the top of a sky scraper, half-naked, breathing hard, totally wet and ready for him.
He didn’t break eye contact as he reached over, unzipping my pants, pushing them down over my ass so that they pooled at my feet. Now I was bare, yet he was still dressed.
He led me to the bath, and I obliged, stepping over the lip of the tub and into the steaming water.
I sat on the edge, my legs draped into the water. He stared, but I didn’t move, and then his lips curled. “You’re supposed to get in.”
“So are you,” I said. His grin widened, and his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, until it was discarded on the floor near my clothes. He kicked off his socks and shoes, and then shoved his pants and boxers down in one push, his hard cock breaking free.
He slipped into the tub, pulling me down into the water. It was large enough for us to sit side by side, leaning back against the gentle slope of the tub, but he didn’t want it that way. Instead, he pulled me onto his lap, my back resting against his chest, so that I was sitting on his cock, but not letting it slip inside me.
No, it was sweet torture, to feel the hard length of it, but not have it where I wanted it. “Lay back against me,” he commanded, puling me against him.
He slipped one hand over my thighs, nudging my legs apart, so that my ankles hooked over the outside of his. So that he would have access, his hands wet and slick as they found their way to my core. I laid against him, languid, loving the feeling of the hard planes of his body against mine, as the warm water lapped against my stomach. Loving the way his breath was hot against my ear, the feeling of his lips against the side of my neck.
His finger swirled around my clit, sending heat pooling in my belly. I swiveled my hips, pressing further into his dick, and he groaned. “You’re teasing me,” he said, his finger moving down, slipping inside me.
“What do you call what you’re doing?” I asked, groaning as his finger plunged was joined by another, stretching me out. He used his feet to push my ankles wider, to gain better access. With his free hand, he kneaded my breast.
“Feeling you,” he said, his fingers plunging in and out, “In the place I’m going to taste you later,” he added, biting softly at my shoulder.
I groaned wiggling my ass harder against his lap.
“You drive me crazy,” he said. “I wanted to kill that guy just for the way he looked at you.”