Chapter 25
For the love of God, how long did it take to check into a hotel room?
Vaughn blindly signed the forms and handed over what he hoped was a credit card. No idea what room they got. As long as the room had a lock on the door and a bed. Or some chairs. On second thought, a room where the door locked would be dandy, and he would make any furniture work for his needs.
In almost a run, he ignored his aching muscles, grabbed the bags in one hand, and with his other hand tugged her to the elevators. He counted the seconds until the doors closed, and then dropped his mouth back down on hers, savoring, licking, nipping. Each kiss stung his bruised lips, but he didn't care. Vaughn wanted to imprint her taste in his memory forever. God help him, but he would never get enough of this woman. She was some kind of mind-altering drug and he'd become an instant addict—the second he had met her pretty green eyes in that emergency room, if he was being honest about it.
His damned power totally dug whatever she was doing to him. The ability wanted to surround her. Just like he wanted to surround her in a literal and much more biblical manner.
Exiting at whatever floor he had selected, he hurried down the hall like a desperate rodent in a maze, checking each room number to see if it lined up with the one on the electronic card in his hand. At the end of the hall, he swiped the card in a door slot and came damn near to passing out with relief when the green light blinked.
Hotel room. Big bed. Desk, chair, couch. Standard items. Check. He flipped on a lamp.
Couldn't give a fuck about the spa-level amenities in the bathroom or if the towels were spun out of gold threads from a Burmese silk spider's ass.
All he wanted was this woman naked and beneath him, pronto.
He paused. Maybe he should be using something like finesse or foreplay or some other tool besides his current drive to bury his cock as far into Mariah as humanly possible so he could lose his entire mind and sanity in this woman.
How about sweet nothings? Damn. He should be saying something nice to her instead of gaping like a land-based goldfish. Think, damn it. Say something romantic.
Forget it. His brain had nothing but penis-in-vagina available for preview.
Shit.
The color on her cheeks flared red as he stared at her like a drooling imbecile. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the floor.
"I—" he started. "Um. Food? Anything?"
She frowned. Oh, no. Bad. Why the hell did he ask a question? No distractions. Backpedal, dammit.
Plan B was to dive back in for a second taste of her sweet mouth, but she beat him to the next step as she shrugged out of her coat and licked her lips.
Then she slid off the blazer, leaving her in a trim, button-down shirt and those sexy business pants. Her petite, toned body made him want to throw her on the bed and pounce on top of her.
"Room service? I can order you something," he stammered.
She grabbed his shirt in two hands and pulled him toward the bed. "Oh my gosh, why are you still talking?"
"Hell if I know."
She leaned into him, and he gladly toppled backward, pulling her down on top. Her slight weight felt beyond perfect stretched out over him. As for his battered body? What bruises?
"Scoot up. We're hanging over the bed," she said with an impish wrinkle to her nose.
As he shifted up and rested his head on the pillows, with her still perched on top of him, he grinned. "Are you always this bossy?"
"Are you complaining?"
He bucked his hard erection beneath her. "What do you think?"
She tilted her head, mischievous as a wood sprite or nymph or something else fucking magical that wasn't a goddamned leprechaun with a beard or something else buzzkill unsexy.
When she popped the hair clip and those shiny strands fell forward, he reached up to let the hair slip through his fingers. Wow, she heated parts of his heart that had been ice cold for far too long.
She skimmed her hands down his shirt-covered arms to his hands and threaded her fingers through his, easing his hands away from her. Then she leaned against him and pressed his hands to the bedding next to his head. With her torso this close to his head, he wanted to tear off her clothes and bury his face in what lay beneath.
But the lady was having fun, judging by her smile, somehow both excited and shy at the same time. Let her enjoy, by all means.
"Looks like I submitted you," she exhaled.
"I'll let you win a match like this any day." With effort, he sucked in air. "Want to try a rear naked chokehold?"
A laugh bubbled up and lit her glowing face. His heart paused several beats. She was beautiful as she straddled his torso, and he wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his entire life.
She winked—fucking winked—at him. "That was my next go-to move. You've figured out my game plan."
Burying his hands in her hair again, he pulled her down to his mouth and kissed her until she melted into him.
When she rose again, he groaned with frustration, then excitement, as her nimble fingers undid each of his buttons until cold air licked over his chest. The light drift of her fingertips shot zingers of hell-yeah right down his spine. Her butt wiggling against his groin tormented him in the best way possible, and when she gave his hard nipples a light pinch, he came close to embarrassing himself right in front of her.
"Mariah," he growled.
"Ref hasn't called it yet. Patience."
"My God," he gritted as she scooted down. She stroked him through the pants fabric, making his cock jump.
Then she slid that same hand beneath his waistband and circled him. Christ.
Some men needed to be in control.
Some men needed to be on top.
As Mariah stroked his hard erection, he realized that he wasn't like some men.
All he needed was Mariah. If this woman wanted to run the show, there was no way in hell he would complain.
He groaned as she rubbed her thumb along the damp tip of his cock.
However. He wouldn't survive if she continued what she was doing. He'd let her play later. He had work to do.
With a buck and a heave, he lifted and flipped her over, reversing their positions. Better.
Like in his midnight fantasies, she lay beneath him, her hair spread out in a dark halo, her arms splayed out next to her. Perfect.
"You need to give me a chance." He took care to hold his weight with his legs and arms as he knelt over her.
"I'm okay with that." The way her eyes widened, he felt ten feet tall.
"Damn it," he cursed his thick, rough fingers. He finally managed to unbutton her blouse without ripping the garment to shreds. With the amount of patience he showed, he ought to be named a saint.
Saint Take it Slow or Saint Ladies First or some bullshit name like that.
Smoothing the fabric to the side, he sucked in more air as the sight of her took it right out of him. Her smooth skin glowed. The small lace cups hid twin points pushing against the fabric. Part of him wanted to spend quality time with those breasts, and part of him wanted her naked, like, yesterday. She was a dessert buffet and he couldn't decide where to start.
She sighed, making those hard nipples strain against the lace.
Decision made.
Each of his hands palmed a firm breast, and he rubbed the skin beneath the lace fabric, taking cues from the sexy, breathy sounds that came from her. He leaned back on his ankles and drew her to sit up. Concentrating on her face, watching for any hesitation and seeing none, he slid the shirt off and away, followed by the bra. With his hand supporting her behind the shoulders, like she was a delicate piece of crystal, he eased her back down to the bed.
Trailing his fingers over her neck, breasts, and stomach, he wanted to feel every single inch of her body. Memorize it. In case they never... no. He shook his head and paused.
"You okay?" Her voice, both soft and rough, snapped him the hell off of whatever path his mind was heading. With a featherlight stroke of his bruised cheek, she asked, "Is this bothering you?"
"With you in front of me, I feel zero pain." He shifted his position on her hips and grimaced. "Well, maybe a little pain, but it's the good kind of pain. Besides, your touch takes it away."
Reaching for the front of his slacks, she whispered, "Then I've got some more cure."
Keeping his grip gentle, he manacled her wrists and drew her hands away. "If you go there, this night will be over before it begins, and that is not my intention. Not by a long shot." He let go and skimmed up her waist until his thumbs rested on her breasts. "Besides, I want to find more ways to make you squirm first." He bent and latched his mouth onto one nipple, flicking his tongue over the tip until she gasped.
She scraped her nails over the nape of his neck and closed her hands on two fistfuls of hair. Pleasure mixed with pain sent him into low synchronous orbit.
He gave her other breast equal attention, then licked his way down her belly. Inhaling the faint, warm musk of her arousal, he grimaced as his cock jumped for joy.
After unbuttoning her pants and sliding them and the underwear off of her hips, he stood and rifled through his gym bag. He'd need that foil packet soon enough, God willing.
Mariah was a vision. All puffy, well-kissed lips, smoldering eyes, soft skin, and tight little body. The tiny patch of dark hair above her... wow.
He dropped like a fighter shooting for a takedown and positioned his face at the juncture of her thighs. Delicate, pink skin and moisture. The idea that she was wet for him had his cock straining for release. Soon, buddy. Real soon.
One gentle lick and she bucked against him with a cry. Yeah, that was a winning move. He stroked with his tongue up and down her soft folds and over her clit. Her panting mixed with his. Heat and wetness poured from her, and he lapped it up, loving the taste of her. Licking his finger, he slid it into the liquid heat and groaned as her inner muscles rippled. At the same time, he crooked his finger to rub the rough spot inside her and flicked his tongue over her again.
Christ, for a small woman, she was freakishly strong as she writhed beneath him. So good.
Adding another finger, he pressed inward slowly, letting her adjust to him. He'd kill himself before he hurt her in any way. But he wanted her so much. He never wanted to stop. Increasing the rhythm, he stroked her until she bowed under his touch and his mouth. She gripped the bedcovers and came apart in his hands. Her hoarse cry and gasps raked across his soul, making his heart swell and his chest tighten.
He eased away from her hips and licked the glistening sweat on her stomach before kissing her beautiful mouth.
"God, Vaughn."
"Yeah," he managed to grit out.
"Wow." Her chest rose and fell. She lolled her head to the side and, with a flop of her arm, grabbed the crinkly packet. "All right. Your turn."
"Hell yes. Round two."