Page 89 of Tempt
We spent alotof time in them.
The hotel room door had barely closed behind me and Zach was striding toward me, his eyes dark and hungry. I tried to say hello and his lips consumed mine with a kiss. I tried to pull back and look at him—my eyes were desperate to get their fill after two weeks apart—but his arms were locked tight around me. I tried to unbutton his shirt, eager to feel his bare chest under my palms, but he wouldn’t let me get him naked until he’d pulled every stitch of clothing off me and gotten his hands and lips and tongue on every inch of my skin.
He was still fully clothed, his face buried between my thighs, my fingers fisted in his hair, when I had my first orgasm, leaning back against a mountain of pillows like a queen.
Only then would he allow me to undress him, and I took my time—savoring every new part of his body revealed to me as I peeled off his clothes piece by piece. I removed his shirt and brushed my lips against the hair on his chest. Ran my tongue along the lines of ink on his biceps and ribs. Caressed the ridges of his abs with my nose, breathing in his scent. I pulled off his jeans and boxer briefs and pushed him onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. I ran my hands up his legs, appreciating the firm muscles of his calves, his thick, powerful thighs, the V lines bracketing his erection, which rested on his abdomen, massive and heavy and hard.
I traced those V lines with my tongue. I watched his stomach muscles flex and his cock twitch with anticipation. I rubbed my lips against his crown and swept them down the thick, veined shaft, relishing in every texture of his skin.
He lay back against the pillows like I had, watching me, his jaw slightly open, breaths coming fast, chest rising and falling. He groaned when I finally took him into my mouth, his fingers threading into my hair. “God, I’ve thought about this,” he rasped as I took him to the back of my throat. “Every fucking night. My good girl.” His hips were already lifting off the bed, and I could taste him on my tongue—salty and masculine. I would have finished him off that way, but he lifted my head and turned me beneath him.
“I have to get inside you,” he growled. “I can’t wait a second longer.”
I didn’t argue, just as anxious as he was for the heat and friction and the feel of his body deep inside me. I clung to him fiercely, wanting to be closer even when it was impossible, surrendering to the longing for him that never seemed to abate, crying out as he drove us both off the edge, falling to pieces beneath him.
You can’t keep doing this, said a voice in my head.You’re out of control.
I ignored it, let it be swallowed up by the sensation of his weight above me. His rapid-fire breathing. His warm, damp skin against mine. The final shudder and pulse of his body.
As my heartbeat slowed, my eyes filled with tears. Embarrassed and confused, I pretended I had to use the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” I whispered, my throat thick with emotion.
He rolled off me, and I quickly slipped from the bed and hurried into the bathroom, where I splashed cold water on my face and took several deep breaths. When I had control of myself, I stared at my reflection and issued that girl a warning.
No. Just don’t.
I knew what I was doing when I agreed to come here. I knew what this was and what this wasn’t. I knew where this could go and where it couldn’t. No one was suffering any delusions or making any false promises. The truth was always right in front of my face. And as long as I kept it in plain sight, I’d be fine.
I fluffed my hair, wiped the smudged eye makeup from beneath my eyes, and went back into the room. The sight of him, rugged and gorgeous and looking concerned, wasn’t good for my heart.
“Hey,” he said, his forehead wrinkling. “You okay?”
“Of course.”
“Come here.” He opened his arms to me, and I crawled onto the bed and snuggled up against his side. “That’s better.”
“Do you have to work tonight?”
“No. I’m doing building security risk assessment here. We work during the day.” He kissed my head. “What should we do? Gamble? See an Elvis impersonator? Go clubbing?”
“Clubbing!” I laughed. “You’re talking to a woman that gets in bed almost every night by nine. We are too old to go clubbing. They’d probably turn us away at the door, Grandpa.”
He inhaled sharply. “Oh, you arebeggingfor punishment, aren’t you?” He put his hand in my hair and tightened his fist, making me wince. My scalp tingled with pleasure and pain as he tipped my head back. His eyes narrowed. His voice deepened. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
He clenched his hand tighter. “Yes, what? Where are my good girl’s manners?”
“Yes, please.”
His fist relaxed slightly. “That’s better. Now I think you better lie across my lap so I can teach you a lesson.”
Grinning, I did as requested—my body was up for some hurting tonight, but at least if we played games, my heart was safe.
For now.
* * *
The following morning, I drove the car Zach had gotten for me over to Marigold Bridal Wholesale, where I’d scheduled an eleven o’clock appointment.
