Chapter Eight
Claire
My heel catches on the edge of a tile as Michael walks me backward into the large, open bathroom. His strong arms catch me, one wrapping around my waist, the other hitting under my ass. Every inch of his body is pressed against mine, his broad shoulders and hard stomach, not to mention the stiff line of his cock against my belly.
“How much time do we have?” he asks.
I’m not exactly sure. “Fifteen minutes?”
His answering smile is pure sex. “It’ll have to be enough.”
He locks the door behind us then presses me against the tiled wall. Our hips grind, and I can feel all the promise of him, long and hard.
He takes my chin in a gentle grasp then cups my cheek, tilting my head back. His lips touch mine with the lightest of pressure, then more firmly before he claims my mouth in a deep, searing kiss.
In no time at all, he has me gasping. He fits his hard body against mine. Both of his hands circle my waist like he’s measuring me for a belt, and he keeps on kissing me—kissing me so perfectly there should be laws against it. He has me lighting up like that Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center. He could put entire power companies out of business.
My hips tip up against his, seeking him out, and his hands return to my face. His fingers comb into my hair as he holds my mouth to his, angling in, teasing me and sucking in my bottom lip. A couple pins fall from my hair making ping-ping sounds when they hit the tile.
He pulls back for a second, giving us both a chance to breathe, then his hands make their way down over my breasts, pausing there before continuing their torturous journey over my ribs, my waist, the curve of my hips.
“I need to feel you.” His voice comes out throaty. “I liked the show you gave me in my truck, Princess, but this time it’s got to be me.”
His hand slides into the slit in my dress and separates the fabric. He hooks one finger into the elastic of my panties and jerks them down once, and then again, until they’re over my hips. With a little wiggling, I get them to shimmy down my legs to the floor. The silky slither of them scatters goosebumps over my arms.
Using one powerful thigh, he parts mine, and I hiss air through my teeth when the back of his hand brushes along my core. Michael slides one finger through my wet folds, once, twice, three times before entering me. I’m lost in his touch. The world spins as his mouth returns to plunder mine, dominating my senses.
He bends a crook in his finger and pulls a moan out of me. My knees buckle, but he holds me up, not letting me slip away, his free hand digging into my ass. Soon, so soon, the world is spiraling away. His fingers swirl around my clit then slide inside, only to repeat the torment. He works me up to the point of coming undone.
“Michael!” I cry out in panic.
“I’m here,” he says, his voice sounding ragged. He parts my dress in front, yanking it up from behind, and he lifts me, walking me toward the sink. He balances my ass on the edge while he undoes his belt and zipper, his eyes never leaving mine. “You on the pill?”
I nod. “Have you been tested?”
“Passed with flying colors. And just to say, babe, this is nowhere close to my typical Friday night, so don’t assume something about me that isn’t true.”
He cups his hands under my ass and lifts me toward him, while I brace myself on the sides of the sink. I look down as he positions himself at my entrance, and I give a little gulp of alarm. Before I can balk at his girth, he slowly feeds it into me, right up to the hilt.
My jaw drops open, but no sound comes out. The sensation of my body stretching to accommodate him... Incredible. It’s been two years since anyone, or anything has filled me so completely. It’s like being a virgin again, and the beauty of it spills out of the corners of my eyes.
“Ah fuck. Are you okay? Princess, am I hurting you?”
“No,” I say on a gasp. “God, no. You feel amazing.”
He grins, and I watch his determination grow as he leisurely retreats, then just as calmly re-enters, killing me slowly again and again.
“Perfect,” he says, stilling. His voice is gruff and breathless. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Not... Planning... On it.” With each word, he reaches new places inside me, forcing all the air from my lungs. It’s another minute of this sublime torment before his rhythm falters. I watch in fascination as his face tenses, then his hips piston, slamming into me so hard, over and over until I cry out with pleasure. No one has ever been so deep.
“Give it to me, sweetheart.”
My throat tightens but I manage to nod because—Oh, god. Oh, god—it’s happening. I’m drawing up. All my muscles are tensing as I use my hands to leverage myself against the sink. I’m going to come. I’m going to—
“Fuck. Claire!”
And that’s when the earth falls out from under me.
One second I’m tearing through an orgasm so out of this world it requires its own zip code, the next moment the sink is pulling off the wall and we’re crashing onto the floor in a shower of bathroom tile, plaster, and bits of broken enamel.
I land on top of him, and we stare into each other’s eyes for a what-the-fuck kind of second before we both dissolve into hysterical laughter.
I can’t quite believe it, and not just about the destruction of public property. It feels so good to laugh, to laugh at us, at this ridiculous moment, and how bizarre it is that I could feel so connected, so perfectly matched to someone I met only four hours ago. How is this possible?
I have to remind myself that it’s just the hormones reacting to so much sexual pleasure. It’s not real. None of it is. Tonight is a fairytale, pure and simple.
Michael clears his throat as he tries to sit up. “Well, that did not go as planned. You could have snapped my cock sheer off.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips, and I slap my hand over my mouth.
He nods, saying, “Rain check, then?”
“Yeah. Besides. I think time must be up. I can’t miss the dinner.”
He makes a face that says he’d prefer to order room service, then he snags my panties off the floor. I reach for them, but he doesn’t hand them over. Instead, he nonchalantly folds the black silk into a triangle and tucks it into his breast pocket. He turns his face to the side and inhales the scent of his new pocket square, groaning on the exhale.
“You are incorrigible,” I tell him.
“That I am, Princess. If you’re going to delay our round three, I’m going to keep your scent in my nose all through dinner.”
I shake my head like he’s being ridiculous, though inside it gives me a secret thrill. We both get up, and I check my hair in the mirror. It’s still mostly intact, just a few wisps that need smoothing back. I’d fix my makeup, too, except that there’s already a natural flush to my cheeks and my eyes are big and bright. All the nerves leading up to tonight have magically faded away.
“I suppose we’ll need to tell someone about the damage. And...” I add ruefully, “I suppose I need to get back on a diet.”
He pulls me to his body and slips his hands down over my ass, giving it a squeeze. “Your body is insane. Do anything to change it, and I would not be pleased.”
I roll my eyes. “You ready to go?”
“Lead the way.”
I take his hand and open the bathroom door while looking over my shoulder at him. It’s not my fault he’s so handsome that I can’t look away. If it were easier to take my eyes off his face, I might pay better attention to where I was going. If I was looking forward, I wouldn’t run straight into... “Steven!”
Steven and his new wife stop in their tracks and stare at me. Maeve looks disapproving. The bathroom door is slow to close, and Steven’s eyes are fixed on the destruction we left behind. He looks at Michael, then back to me. “You... Um... Dinner is about to start.”
For some reason this makes me laugh. I don’t even care when Michael gives Steven a very satisfied wink and a bro-slap on the shoulder.