STARS
Sara
My mouth feels raw by the time the cab halts before a fashionable hotel just a few blocks away. Ian drags me out of the cab, holding my hand as he leads me inside. I linger around the lobby as he goes to check in, watching him walk back to me with a key in hand.
“Ford!” someone calls. “Shit! You’re in town?”
Ian sets his hand on my elbow as a tall, blond guy approaches. His friend seems shocked by the sight of me standing next to him, and something about that makes my stomach constrict.
I mean, I’m fucking a stranger. How much do I know about Ian?
“I’d better leave,” I whisper, rethinking this whole thing, but as I speak Ian catches my fingers to halt me. He leans to whisper in my ear. “Don’t leave. Or I’ll find you.”
I go up on tiptoes to whisper, “Please don’t. I really don’t think we have anything in common except chemistry and I flunked that in high school—not my favorite subject.”
He just stares. At my mouth.
“Okay, bad joke. But you get it.”
He turns back to the guy who greeted him. “I’ve got to bolt, but I’ll catch up with you later.”
“I… hell yeah. Let’s do lunch,” the man replies.
“Will do,” Ian tells him. Then he turns his attention back to me.
“The exit is that way.” I point nervously behind me.
“The room is that way.” He glances at the elevators.
I shoot him a haughty look and pry free of his grip. Ian grabs the loop in my jeans and twists me back in the direction of the elevators. I kind of like it that he’s not letting me go. It’s nice to see he’s as interested in fucking me as I am in fucking him. Then I hear the deepest, sexiest voice speak behind me. “You always run in the opposite direction when you see something you want?”
I am not going to answer that. I’m not going to admit that my nipples are beaded and that my panties are wet. Almost as if jealous of the other panties that once were in a little wad in his hands months ago. “You’ve got it all wrong, buddy. Just leaving room for your ego.”
“My ego likes it just fine with you close.” He’s almost purring now. “The way you’re looking at me, it could not like it any better.”
“Full of yourself much?”
“So full of it I have enough to spare and get you full of me too, in a matter of seconds.”
I raise both my eyebrows.
“Just say the words—and we’ll break the news to all the other girls here. They’ll be devastated.”
I glance at the women in the lobby. Obviously most of them have noticed him, and I hate that he seems to have noticed.
“They’ll send me thank-you notes,” I say.
“Well, then… I hope you have a big mailbox.”
“You’re dreaming.”
“Of you.”
I sniff when I see him reach out to press the elevator button behind me. His arm brushes against the top of mine, and my skin tingles from the contact.
I hear the terrible, exciting, unnerving ding.
My whole body tightens in anticipation.
Ian lifts his hand and presses it against the small of my back, leading me into the elevator. We’re the only ones inside. He presses the button for the top floor and uses the key to access it.
Wow. A penthouse suite?
His hand remains on the small of my back, his thumb caressing my skin below the fabric of my top.
His eyes hold mine, and something pulls inside my stomach.
The heat of his stare spreads under my skin, like a lick of fire between my legs.
The way the guy stands there, all confident and with an unreal mix of elegance and rawness, his stare direct and shameless, an air of authority surrounding him.
God, I want another piece of him tonight.
I don’t think anyone could ever compete with this guy, so I never even went out with anyone who asked me ever since our encounter. Sometimes I’ve wanted to see him again so much that my chest hurt. And it’s not fair, is it?
When we arrive at our floor, he takes my hand and leads me down the hall to open the suite door. Yes. It’s a humongous suite.
What does it mean that he went for the best for this?
Does it mean he wants to impress me?
And what does it mean that I mumble “give me a moment” and race to the bathroom to freshen up?
That I want to impress him?
I take a long time scrutinizing my hair, my face, and the rest of me in the bathroom mirror. Does he like what I see? My pupils are dilated, my eyes gleaming with desire. My cheeks flushed. I look like a girl who just had the living daylights fucked out of her… or is about to. By the time I have loosened my hair and freshened up, Ian is sitting on a bar stool at the far end of the suite. The view of New York, and even a glimpse of Central Park, framing the windows behind him.
He slowly comes to his feet as I reach him. I melt under his smile as he grabs me by the waist and yanks me to his chest. Dominant. I like it.
“I should be gentle. You do walk my gran’s dog, after all.” He scans my features as if savoring them.
“I should have mercy on you. You’re my customer’s grandson, after all.” I scan his features in return.
His eyes begin to darken, his expression unreadable. I press forward, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. He smells so good that I feel dizzy, my brain completely out of order as I go up on tiptoe and graze his lips with mine.
He shifts his mouth, and my lips end up scraping along his jaw as he whispers in my ear, “Are you in it just for the orgasm of your life?” He holds me by the back of my neck.
I nod, and his expression changes.
He says, “Come here.”
He tugs me forward and motions to the hall of the suite, and I walk past him.
“Down the hall.”
I do as he instructs and when I glance past my shoulder, I catch those beautiful eyes of his inspecting my butt.
He smirks when I shoot him a look, and I hurry down the hall.
“Last room.”
I head to the master bedroom and open the door, then reach the bed and turn around.
“I don’t need a bed. Or a big suite, Mr. Ford. What I want from you is right here.” I reach out to grab his shirt and pull him to me, stroking my hand along his cock.
Oh God. He’s so hard. I want this so bad.
He grabs me by the hips and pulls me even closer to him, his eyes scanning my face. “You changed your mind fast.” A smug smile touches his lips as he grabs a handful of my hair, lifts it above my head, and leans forward.
“I’ll go if you don’t want it,” I grind out. Desire clutches my body as he skims his lips along my neck.
I can’t seem to say “want me”—it’s too personal, and I don’t want to get personal with him. Just physical.
My thighs are shaking as he tsks softly, shaking his head as he drags his thumb down my temple, along my jaw. “What would ever give you the impression I’m not into this?” He pulls my arms up above my head and flattens me to the window with his hard, sexy, blatantly muscular body. I don’t know which is harder, him or the window, or the gigantic erection pressing into my stomach while he lets his eyes roam my body as if deciding what he wants to taste first.
My lips, my throat, my shoulders, my…
“You feel incredible, Sara,” he rasps as he cups my breast in one hand, massaging it.
An unintelligible sound rises up my throat. This man does things to me. I’m suddenly afraid he’s going to break me, somehow, some way. The first time hooked me; what will the second do?
“No talking,” I say, pressing my mouth to his.
My lips end up crushed beneath his. The sound I make is swallowed by his mouth—his moving, hot, demanding mouth. “God, you taste good,” he rasps.
“So do you,” I croak.
My lips sting from his lips.
I press up on tiptoes and brush them again over his with a moan. “Kiss me again.”
He does more than kiss me—it’s like he’s waging a fucking war, his tongue charging into me, subduing mine, sucking mine.
Desperation grabs me like a living thing, causing me to arch my body against his. He’s hard like crazy, and I want more of his strength and his taste and his flesh and his passion.
I wiggle one hand free and he releases me, only to tear at my shirt. I hear it rip as I pull open the button of his shirt.
This franticness—I’ve never felt it before. It’s as though I’ll die if I don’t feel him inside me right now. I shudder and cry out when his hands cup my bare skin and free my breasts, and when he grabs one in his hand and lifts it to his mouth, I grab his hair and press him to me as he smothers one tight, sensitized nipple with his mouth.
He sucks. The pulling sensation makes my stomach constrict pleasurably, my pussy gripping with need.
“You ready?” His question is just a rasp.
Breathless, I answer. “No foreplay. I’m ready.”
He ignores that request.
He sucks my breast again, as if he can’t stop himself. The pleasure is exquisite—racing in my veins, constricting my muscles, tickling my bones, firing up my sexy parts.
“I’m not. I want this to last.” He presses his lips to my neck and I don’t get why his warm breath on my skin melts me, why his words melt me—how this hot, melting-hot, stranger can have this effect on me.
“I want your dick, Ian,” I groan, caressing him through his pants again.
“And you’ll have it, Sara.”
My stomach contracts as our tongues meet again in my mouth, and suddenly my fingers are roaming over his chest, over his partly open shirt, feeling the muscles there as our tongues frantically sample each other, rub and touch and twist around one another.
He grabs me by the hips, his kiss becoming more aggressive as he backs me up against the bed and unzips, unbuttons, and yanks down my jeans, his mouth never leaving mine.
I kick my shoes and jeans off, and he eases his hand between my legs and a shiver of heat rushes down my spine as he tugs down my panties and cups my sex, murmuring into my mouth, “Here you are. So warm and wet, waiting for me.” He inserts one finger inside me. “Fucking soaked for me. Burning up for me, Sara.”
He pushes two fingers in and I groan against his jaw, a garbled sound leaving me as I thrust my hips out for more. “More.”
My hands shake as I reach out and loosen his shirt from the waistband of his slacks. “I want it now,” I rasp, swallowing audibly when he helps me tug open the rest of his shirt buttons. He shrugs his shirt off—and his chest is glorious. Holy shit, so glorious I gape at him, ripped, tanned, and smooth—so lickable, I immediately press my mouth to his skin and go lick one of his nipples.
He pulls off his pants and boxers and his cock jerks free, a drop of cum at the tip.
When he finally pins one of my hands to my side and grabs one of my legs to hook it around his hips, then guides that huge, thick dick inside me, I scream. I scream and scream, pressing my mouth to his shoulder blades to quiet myself as he thrusts and thrusts and fucks me harder than last time. Harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my life.
My nails rake into his back, my pinned hand fisting in pleasure.
I see stars as I come in his arms, gasping his name out in nearly religious fervor. I don’t even realize that I’ve screamed it until I have, and he groans mine back to me, in my ear, quieter but just as hot.
I didn’t think anyone could ever compete with that night we spent. But of course—he goes on and improves it. Yummy motherfucker.
Ian
She comes like a rocket and I can’t stop watching her. I stop kissing her until she settles down to catch her breath. Her lips are raw from mine. Wet and pink. Even the bow at the top of her mouth is reddened from the force of my mouth on hers.
I should feel guilty.
I don’t.
I didn’t know exactly what I planned to do to her when I saw her. Maybe I’d planned to look her up at the concierge desk and ask her out to Daniel. See if she was available this time. Talk a bit. Get to hear about her life. Tell her about mine.
Maybe I even allowed myself to fantasize too much about things leading us back to room 1103. Or maybe I didn’t plan to do shit.
Except I didn’t imagine she’d be gone from the concierge desk—or the crushing disappointment I’d feel when I checked in yesterday and found out.
I especially didn’t expect to see her in Central Park today. See how kind she was to my gran. And to Milly. How fucking sexy, confident, and still so damn bold.
Now she lies naked beneath me and I’m hard as stone. I can think of little else but getting my hands all over her again.
I don’t know if she’s been with anyone after me, but I sure as hell don’t want her to have been touched. If there’s been anyone, I want my hands to erase him from her. I want my touch to be the last one on her skin.
Moments ago, when we walked through Central Park, I told myself I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Not tonight. She was no longer just any woman. She was my gran’s dog walker.
I reasoned with myself that I had time. I could stay here while filming and get my shit together. Eventually pursue things slowly. But after helping Gran into the cab, Sara was heading off, and the thought of losing sight of her again was not an option.
Thinking I’d lost her when she left her job at my usual hotel made my gut twist. This time it churned because I was watching her walk away, in the opposite direction of where I wanted her to be heading.
I want her, and I don’t like letting go of what I want.
Here we are now.
I reach out and her skin is silky soft. One touch and I realize I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking her again. I want to eat her up this time. Maybe even ease my dick into her mouth. I clench my fingers around her hair and groan as her fingers feather across my dick.
“You minx,” I growl, pulling her closer. “I’ve thought of you.”
I’m leaking pre-cum and I can’t remember a woman, any woman, who’s ever done that to me in my adult years.
Pull yourself together, Ford. This isn’t what she expects.
But I see the sudden spark of thrill in her eyes, and I almost bite my tongue, reminding myself I cannot give her more than this even as she slips her hands around me and curls closer. Close enough that her pussy nudges my dick again. I hate that I don’t have the courage to stop her.
I’m in an odd, entranced state where I will do anything she asks of me, anything she says, just to hear her come screaming my name again. Feel her body twist beneath mine.
“Do you want to do this again?” I taunt huskily in her ear, nibbling her earlobe. I’m hungry. So hungry.
“I don’t just want to, I mean to.” Her whisper feathers into my ear as she slips her tongue in next.
My blood boils and simmers as she starts stroking me with her fist.
I exhale, fighting for control, and ease my hand back between her legs. I massage her clit with my thumb, rubbing in circles.
She shivers, groaning and grabbing my dick harder. I growl as I feel it jerk in response, too damn happy to see her. Throbbing to get those fingers of hers right on it—on me. Then her pussy. Then her mouth.
I push two fingers in and she groans against my jaw, an unintelligible sound leaving her as she thrusts her hips out for more. “God, Ian, that feels amazing.”
She’s loving it. Can’t get enough of it.
I’m loving it even more.
I’m impatient. I pull open her legs and dive between her thighs, sucking, licking, and tasting her.
I could pass out from how horny I feel. Sara glances down at me, at my damn size, my cock swollen to the limit as I suck her off.
“Flip around. I want you in my mouth.” She’s begging me, her voice cottony with lust.
I roll to my back and bring her up with me, her butt on my face, her pussy in my mouth. Sara bends down and next thing I know, she’s got my full length in her mouth.
“Fuck.” I groan. My hips swivel; I clench her ass in my hand and bury my tongue in deeper. “I want more of you. I want you screaming my name.” My voice is muffled by her lips, her ass. I don’t care. I’m saying it to myself. To whoever hears it. Even if she doesn’t.
I withdraw my tongue, then drive back with equal force, but faster. Her teeth clamp down on the base of my cock, and pleasure shoots up my spine as she drags them to the head.
I groan, driving my dick in deeper and harder into her mouth as she spurts in my mouth. I come too.
She can’t be still, and I like it.
“Ian.”
We freeze for a second, breathing hard in unison.
Then I flip her to her back, straighten her beneath me, and thrust inside. A surprised gasp leaves her. She doesn’t expect me to still be hard after coming in her mouth. Hell, neither do I.
I pull her hands up and set a pace, relentless as I drive into her, unleashing the hunger I’ve harbored, nurtured, for months.
I remembered how good she was, how good it was.
Hell, I didn’t remember shit.
Mind-blowing…
She comes all over me again, thrashing beneath me. I follow and let the waves take over.
Even a minute afterward, I’m off-kilter. I exhale, and look at her, stroking my fingers down her bare arms as I try to come back to myself.
She glistens with sweat, about as perfect as a Venetian painting. She looks satisfied and even sleepy, a damn kitten, that’s for sure. I remember Jake’s and my conversation back in LA and I wonder if she really is the kind of cat to claw and turn its back on you. Or if she’s the kind that curls closer, wanting more of the plate of milk you offered.
You’re offering nothing, not even milk. Just sex, because you’re legally not even available.
The heat in my veins cools down at that thought.
Last time I fucked her in room 1103, I pulled away. She seems to expect that. She seems to gasp in surprise when I bend and run a slow circle around the raw, reddened tip of her left breast. I suckle her, gently now, cupping the bottom of her breast with my hand. Then I do the same to the other, hearing her sigh, feeling her fingers ease around the back of my head.
I suck her for a while, then suck my way up her neck. I groan in her ear, “I can’t seem to get enough of you, kitten. Should we go at it all night?”
She slits her eyes as she looks at me, a greedy little smile appearing on her face as she licks her lips.