Love Her or Lose Her

Rosie’s inner walls contracted with such intensity, she fell against him, letting her mouth be caught up in another furious kiss, Dominic’s calloused palms scraping over her exposed back, her hips. She broke the contact out of necessity and stepped away, because the unmistakable tightening of an orgasm had begun and she didn’t want it that way. Every ounce of her being required all. The whole experience, not just temporary relief.

“Meet you at the elevator?”

Dominic nodded, his dark gaze gobbling up her hips and breasts. She couldn’t tear her attention off of him, no matter how loudly her brain commanded her to go get the key. So when someone pressed her purse into her hand, smacked her on the butt, and said, “Get out of here, you’re making everyone jealous,” she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Bethany,” she called over the music. “I owe you.”

The blonde turned and saluted her, then waded into the fray surrounding the bar. Before Rosie could fully turn back around, Dominic had her tucked into his side, guiding her toward the elevator with long strides.

Rosie’s pulse was on a roller-coaster ride, except it was stuck in the upside-down portion, sending her on continual, gravity-defying loops. The man breathing on the back of her neck as she unlocked the hotel room door was her husband. She shouldn’t feel like a virgin about to lose it on prom night, but she did. Oh Lord, she did.

Dominic’s hands gripped the doorframe on either side of her as she fumbled the card, trying to see the instructional arrows in the muted interior of the hallway.

“Don’t they believe in lights at this hotel?” Rosie murmured choppily.

Her husband plucked the card out of her hand, shoved it in the slot, and yanked it out. And her vagina reacted as if he’d just thrust in and out of her, contracting and growing damper by the second. They’d boarded a packed elevator; otherwise, she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have made it to the room without consummating the evening. The way he looked at her on the way down had had her knees shaking. They still shook, her belly hollowing when the green light flashed on the card reader, and Dominic shoved open the door.

Even in her state of hormonal upheaval, the luxuriousness of the room made Rosie catch her breath. “Oh, wow.”

It was large, even by New York City standards. A king-sized bed with a fluffy white comforter took up the entire left side of the room, and a pair of silk pajamas were folded on the chrome side table, courtesy of Bethany. There was a flat screen and a modern fireplace on the right. Straight ahead was a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked downtown Manhattan, buildings looming close and far, like a 3-D painting.

Dominic’s hand closed firmly around the nape of Rosie’s neck, and she dropped her purse, whimpering into the silence of the room. The zipper of her dress came down and the heavy, sequined material dropped, pooling at her feet, leaving her in a black thong, a matching strapless bra, and a pair of five-inch gold heels. The air didn’t move a whisper. Nothing moved for several moments as she stood there, shivering as her husband’s eyes roamed over her body.

This. This was why keeping their hands off each other was practically impossible. Rosie craved the act of being overwhelmed by his strength. Dominic needed to quench Rosie’s thirst and claim her in the process. Their passion, at least, was the perfect partnership.

One afternoon during their senior year of high school would forever be etched on her memory. Alone in Dominic’s house while his parents were visiting his aunt in the Bronx. She’d been struggling with an odd impulse for weeks, and he’d coaxed it out of her with long, drugging kisses on his couch that led to hands stroking inside each other’s pants, moans filling the air. With her face hidden in Dominic’s neck, she’d quietly asked him to pin her wrists over her head—and he’d gone almost limp with relief, before obliging. The rigid fly of his jeans had dragged over her clit and she’d orgasmed on the spot.

Now Dominic’s palm drifted from her nape, traveling slowly down her spine and over the swell of her bottom. His finger tucked into the low waistband and peeled the panties inch by painstaking inch down her thighs. Her bra came off next, snapped free in the back, tumbling to the floor forgotten. Rosie struggled to fill her lungs, her aroused nipples rising and falling on harsh breaths.

“Please,” she whispered.

Dominic swept her up in his arms and strode across the room. She frowned when they bypassed the bed, but excitement coursed through her veins when Dominic set her down on the modern circular table arranged in front of the huge window. Her naked back to the city, Rosie shook with anticipation. What was coming? What was he going to do with her?

Dominic came into view, his mouth ghosting over hers. He touched his tongue to hers lightly, teasingly, then eased back to strip off his shirt, tossing it aside. Filter obliterated, Rosie could only hum in appreciation of his ripped physique, the city lights illuminating every valley, sinew, and riot of ink. Her hips moved restlessly on the table as he undid his belt and the fly of his pants, taking out his huge erection in a clenched fist. Rosie sobbed at the sight of it.

His tongue licked along the seam of her lips. “This would have convinced you without words to bring me back to your room, isn’t that right?”

Rosie squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

“Rubbing your pussy all over it in public. You must want it pretty goddamn bad.”

The table grew slippery beneath her and she tried to move her thighs together to hide the evidence of how needy she was, but Dominic blocked her with his hips.

“You have no idea how bad I want to cram you full of this cock. I’m fucking starving for my wi—for you.”

“Yes,” Rosie whimpered, sliding her legs apart. “Please—”

“Oh no. Not yet.” Her back landed firmly on the table, Dominic’s hand on the center of her chest. “The city is going to watch me eat my fill.”

It wasn’t a large table by any stretch, so Rosie’s head tipped over the other side, affording her an upside-down view of Manhattan. Buildings as close as across the street, windows with their lights on and off. People moving in their depths. Could they see her? She had no idea. Would she mind if they did? The excitement spinning all across her skin like pinwheels said no. No, she definitely didn’t mind. Just like on the dance floor, she welcomed the hint of rebellion. Welcomed the chance to stretch her wings and measure the span.

Dominic circled around the table at an unhurried pace. His finger slipped down the folds between her legs, making her cry out, but he only trailed the moisture he collected around her belly button, her nipples. And then he was even with her face, dragging the thick head of his erection across her panting mouth.

“I want one good, deep push inside that beautiful mouth. Just to get me wet for stroking. Don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from beating off while I tongue your little clit.”

Rosie’s hips twisted on the table, the body part in question desiring friction. Relief. Now now now. At the same time, her mouth was starved for the taste of Dominic, so she parted her lips and let him sink in a couple inches. She moaned around his flesh, and his progress halted.

“Shhh. Relax and take it deeper.” He eased his hips forward, stretching her lips around his girth, air escaping him in growling bursts. “More?”

Incapable of vocalizing that yes, yes, she wanted every inch of him, she reached back and buried her fingernails into his backside, urging him closer, deeper.

“Fuck,” he roared, gripping the base of his arousal and drawing it back out, leaving it perched on her lips as his belly heaved. “You feel so good. So good. One more push. I need it.”

He drove back into her mouth cautiously, but still faster than last time, stopping when he hit resistance and the salt of him traveled down her throat. The sound and feel of his pleasure were an instantaneous addiction and she needed more. It had been so long since they’d fulfilled each other the way they needed. The way they required.

“Look at you, enjoying the shit out of it,” he gritted, tapping his hard flesh against her lips a few times. “Tell me to stop, Rosie.”

“One more,” she whispered, the second word cut off by her husband entering her mouth on a groan, his thickness taking up every corner, his belly hair tickling her chin.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, freeing himself and rounding the table in one long step. He fell to his knees and pressed her legs open, diving in for a devastating lick that exploited her swollen clit and brought Rosie’s back off the table in a violent arch.

“Dominic. Oh my God. Yes. Yes.” His thumbs massaged their way from her knees, down her inner thighs, where they met at her juncture. Gently, those same thumbs took turns rubbing her clit, one after the other, before his tongue took over and flickered against her nub, not stopping, never stopping until she was slapping the table with the flats of her hands and sobbing his name. “Suck. Please.”

It shouldn’t have made her even hotter when he laughed and changed the pattern of his tongue’s soft jabs, but it did. Her hips wouldn’t stay still, and a low, carnal twist started in the lowest part of her belly and wrapped around her limbs like tentacles. She threw her head back over the edge of the table and felt herself soaring over the city, unstoppable and strong—and when Dominic’s lips closed around her clit and applied just the right amount of suction, the buildings splintered in front of her eyes, light fragmenting in every direction. Of their own accord, her thighs wrapped around his head and she screamed.