Page 39 of Fake it For Good
“Fuck it,” I growled.
I jerked open my door and walked across the hall. I knocked and waited. I had no idea what I was going to say or do. I was going to wing it. She opened the door, pulling a short robe around her. “Cane?”
I had gotten a glimpse of flesh. It was less than a second, but it was enough to shred the last little thread of control I had on my libido. I reached for her. My hand grabbing the back of her head and my mouth slamming against hers were the last coherent thoughts I had.
14
NOELLE
He tasted like whiskey. That was my first thought. Then it occurred to me he was kissing me, which was why I could taste him. I didn’t know if it was instinct or desire, but I found my hands sliding up his arms and I kissed him back. His aggressive kiss pushed me back several steps. I heard the hotel room door close, but it barely registered through the haze of lust he had conjured up with a simple kiss.
His hand slipped inside the robe I had not even managed to get closed before he kissed me. His mouth opened wide, forcing mine to open just as wide. His tongue slashed against mine. I was hungry for him. My mind was still trying to determine whether or not the whole thing was real. It felt like a dream.
“Fuck,” he growled and went to my neck. His teeth gnashed against my flesh, tugging and pulling. A sharp pain that felt like a jolt of ecstasy slammed into me.
“Cane,” I groaned and dropped my head to the side. He sucked on my flesh with his hands rubbing up and down my hips.
“I want you,” he growled.
It wasn’t like I was going to say no. I wanted him. Why? What the hell was I doing?
Getting laid by a totally hot guy.
“Me too,” I murmured on a breath.
His hands were massaging over my body under the robe. It took him less than a second to reach behind me and unhook my bra. His mouth dropped to my breast even as he was pulling away my bra. The robe now hanging off my shoulders prevented him from pulling it completely off. He turned into a wild man. His hands pulled at the robe until it was sliding down my arms and pooling at my feet.
I stood before him in nothing but a thong. I should have been self-conscious. I wasn’t. I was too turned on. I wanted him to fuck me against the wall. I wasn’t the least bit worried about what he saw. The passion I felt in him told me he didn’t think I was a little too thick in the thighs. He didn’t seem to care my tummy wasn’t flat. He was focused on my breasts. His hand cupped and massaged while his tongue lapped over the nipple that was hard and uber sensitive.
“Cane,” I moaned.
“I have to have you,” he groaned. “Touch me. Feel how hard I am. This is nearly three years of pent-up need.”
I heard him, but the words weren’t really making sense. I could barely remember my own name. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand to his bulging crotch.
I gasped when I felt the hard steel he was packing. I immediately wanted to know more. I rubbed my hand against the length and was very excited by what I felt.
“Do you want me?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“I do.”
“Fuck,” he growled again and took my mouth with his own. His hand dropped between my legs. I could feel how wet I was. The heel of his palm pushed against my pussy. Shudders of pleasure ripped through me. I pushed back, seeking more.
“I want you,” I said. “Please.”
I hated that I had resorted to begging, but I didn’t want him to have a change of heart. He leaned his forehead against mine, his chest heaving up and down. I realized I was virtually naked and he was still dressed. If I was going to have him, I needed to get him naked in a hurry.
I dropped my hands to his waistband. I jerked at the belt and attacked the button with a fierceness I could not control. I slipped my hand under the tight elastic of his cotton briefs and hit paydirt. “Yes,” I murmured like I had just unwrapped the best gift ever. “Mine, mine, mine.” I was suddenly very greedy.
He responded by jerking my thong down my hips. Before my panties hit the floor, he was plunging a finger deep inside me. I shouted. The sound escaped my throat before I could remind myself to be quiet and practice a little decorum. All thoughts of good-girl manners were gone.
“Oh, shit,” he groaned and rolled his head back and forth against mine. “You’re so fucking hot. And wet. Damn, how can I resist this?”
“Don’t resist,” I heard myself say. I was usually so meek. What was the man doing to me? Was I drunk? No. Not even a little. This was all me getting caught up in a whirlwind of emotions.
He pushed his finger in deeper. I slid up the wall on my tiptoes. He just pushed deeper. The man plucked at my clit, driving me fucking mad. I heard my whimpers and moans from somewhere far away. My eyes had slid closed and refused to open. My head was pushed against the wall. I clawed at his shoulders as he brought me to the brink of orgasm. He stopped and pulled his finger away.
My eyes popped open. “What’s wrong?” I gasped.
