Holt

The keycard takes forever to activate the lock on the suite.

The elevator ride was quiet, yet every time our eyes met, I swore I could hear the air vibrating between us. Despite the dilated pupils and labored breathing, something I notice but don’t think the other guests did as we passed them in the hallway, she appears calm. Confident. Controlled.

She’s a goddamn conundrum, a puzzle with equal pieces sexy and soft. If there’s one thing I won’t do tonight, it’s fuck this up. Fuck her up. In order to do that, I need to clear my head.

Glancing over my shoulder, it’s clear she needs a second as well. Her blue eyes war, a storm crashing wave over wave as she waits for the chirp of the lock.

The door snaps, freeing itself, and although I’ve been anticipating the sound, I still jump. Blaire wastes no time taking the power in the situation. She moseys by me, pressing her palm flat against my chest as she enters the suite with the naughtiest grin.

Working the knot in my tie loose, sure as hell I’m going to choke, I step inside and let the door slam shut behind me. It’s her turn to flinch.

As she spins around, I step toward her in one deft movement. Her back hits the wall, a soft intake of breath parting her lips just before mine land on them.

Her back arches, her chin tilting back, as my hands frame her in along the gold-painted wall. Warm and soft, her lips move against mine but not like I predict. She’s slow, methodical, each kiss a decided choice in an easy, calculated flow.

One hand cradles her cheek, her cheek a perfect mix of hollowed and round. I brush my thumb against her face and am rewarded with a soft, feminine moan.

The sounds of our connection whisper through the room, echoing in the grand entryway. Years before I’m ready to break the kiss, she does just that.

Breathless, she pants as she pulls away, leaving me dragging air into my lungs. Dropping my hand, I let it skim her arm as it drops to her hand. Lacing it in mine, I lead her onto the patio. She doesn’t object, just follows me like it’s our nightly ritual.

Large plants in beautiful clay pots line the sides of the balcony, giving the feeling of seclusion. The sky is clear with a host of silver stars dotting the darkness.

The taste of her mouth is still fresh on my tongue as I sit on a chair with a soft crimson pillow. She slips her hand from mine and chooses a chair a few feet away.

A sliver of thigh is unveiled as she gets settled. My cock, already rock-fucking-hard, throbs so much it physically aches. I try not to wince as I will it to ease, sure I’m already pre-cumming in my boxers.

The breeze catches her hair, making it dance in a cloud around her. She pulls it into a knot on the top of her head and I’m surprised at how much it changes her appearance. Her cheekbones are sky high, nearly touching the bottom of her lashes. The corners of her eyes are almost an almond shape, something I never noticed before. Everything about her looks more exotic, more regal, and I’m left no choice but to adjust my cock before it explodes.

“I’m going to admit something,” she says. “This is a little too easy for me.”

“What’s too easy? I’m fucking hard as hell.” Wincing, I openly cup myself and try to find some relief.

She grins. “That’s exactly why I sat over here.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? For you, I mean, that you make me this turned on.”

“Of course,” she breathes. “I just … um … feel like we got here in two seconds.”

“I’ll tell you what, gorgeous. You sit over there until you’re completely and utterly sure this is what you want. And if you decide it’s not, you can walk out and I’ll take a cab home.”

She cocks her head to the side, like she’s not sure what to say. She searches my face before smiling. “There has to be a bad side to you.”

“Oh,” I say with a low, rough chuckle, “I can be as bad as you want me to be.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“By the way you’re fanning your face, I think that’s exactly what you meant.”

Her hand falls to her side. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?”

“Absolutely not.”

Gripping the edges of her chair, she wars with herself about what to do. I’m not a man that will ever convince a woman to sleep with me, but I will let her know I’m willing. And so fucking able.

“I’m thinking about how wet your pussy is right now,” I say, resting my forearms on my knees. “I’m thinking how your muscles will spasm around my cock as it slides into you, how your eyes will struggle to stay open, the little sounds you’ll make as I suck your breasts.”

Her breath stalls in her chest as her hips shift in her seat.

“I’m wondering what kind of panties lay under that dress and how easily they’ll slide down your thighs. How hot is your pussy? What does your slit taste like as I run my tongue up it and toy with your clit?”

As the breath she’s holding is released, with it seems to go a decision that is evident in the playfulness in her eyes.

“If I were wearing panties, they’d be soaked,” she whispers. Leaning back in her chair, one long leg lifting and crossing on the other, the corner of her dress slips and hits her right at the top of her thigh.

Gulping past the red-hot lump in my throat, I have to tear my eyes from the sliver of creamy skin. When I look at her face, her eyes shimmer with amusement.

Her tongue darts out, skimming her bottom lip seductively. Her chin lifts ever-so-slightly, her eyes smoldering with the promise of a tease.

I’m only a man. A very virile, capable man that has limits and restraints just like the mortal I am. I’ve hit my limit.

“Why don’t you come here?” I spread my legs, my cock clearly locked and loaded through the fabric of my pants, but I couldn’t give a fuck.

She stands, the hemline of the dress toppling to the floor. The front dips as she stands, the roundness of her breasts on full display.

I think I’m going to lose my damn mind.

Taking her time, she strides to me, making a one second trip into about four. It feels like eighteen. Standing before me, her lips pursed together, she smirks. “I’m here. Now what?”