“You’re still shivering.” He glides his fingers over my arms, gently teasing me below the surface. “The adrenaline is taking its time to wear off.”
“It’s not the adrenaline.” I clear the discomfort from my throat while his touch climbs higher to my biceps, then farther.
He massages my shoulders, lightly kneading. “You’ve got no idea how much I appreciate knowing I have an effect on you.” He nuzzles my neck, awakening the sensitive spot below my ear. “You’re a hard nut to crack, Layla.”
I tremble, the vibration skittering along my chest. “You poor thing. Did my restraint batter your excessive ego?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” The words hum against my skin before his lips follow with a brief kiss. “But don’t worry. I’ll turn the tables.”
I hold in a smile, fully aware the tables have always been turned. Soon they may even be flipped.
“How’s your cheek?” He scrapes his teeth over my shoulder, his hands continuing their gentle onslaught down and around my waist.
“Throbbing.”
“Room service shouldn’t take long to bring a bucket of ice. And the concierge is arranging a cooling pack.”
“Thank you. But I shouldn’t need all that. The swelling will go down soon.” If it doesn’t, Cole is going to be on the warpath.
“I ordered a bottle of champagne, too.”
“Now that I would accept with open arms.” I need to reclaim the confidence I had when he was standing in the doorway. I want the upper hand, not these flimsy, flaky responses.
His fingers move to my belly and I stiffen with the intimacy before I can stop myself. The low hum of his laughter only increases my tension. He’s so incredibly sure of himself. So deliciously confident.
“Relax, Layla.” He kisses my shoulder. “You’re safe.”
Safety isn’t my concern. What I fear is disappointing him. Our connection felt different when he was struggling for restraint at the door. Now he’s in his element, having already won this game of seduction, and I didn’t even leave the starting blocks.
“Easier said than done.” I struggle to loosen my muscles.
“Why?” His touch trails lower, along my abdomen, inching farther and farther toward the apex of my thighs, where I already feel his effects the most.
“You know exactly why.” I’m unsettled. It’s clear he has me tied in knots.
“How would I know? You’ve been successful in exposing very little about yourself.” He places another kiss to my neck, the kindness followed by a rough scrape of teeth. “Am I moving too fast? Too slow?”
I don’t know.
Nothing is certain anymore. There’s only sensation, and it’s taking me over like a drug.
“Maybe,” I croak.
“Maybe too fast?” His touch continues to descend, gliding over the slim patch of curls at my pubic bone. “Or maybe too slow?”
I suck in a ragged breath, my pussy clenching as his fingertips divert farther down along the path where leg meets crotch. I shake my head, unable to answer, no longer even sure of the question.
“Too fast or too slow, Layla?” he murmurs.
I whimper, the blanket of bubbles doing nothing to stop my mind from visualizing what’s happening below the surface. His strong hands consume my vision. The image of his lips on my skin makes me throb.
He adds pressure to my legs, parting them, exposing me beneath the water. “Want to know what I think?”
I breathe harder, clenching my eyes shut.
“I think your fragile little whimpers mean you’re hungry for more but don’t know how to ask for what you want,” he rumbles under his breath. “I think you’re throbbing, your body begging to be sated. I even think you might finally be realizing all the pleasure that could’ve been yours the first night we met if only you’d allowed it. How we could’ve been like this weeks ago.”
He continues to speak against my skin, punishing me with wave upon wave of goose bumps as his fingers continue to sweep back and forth along the apex of my inner thighs.
“And just think, amore mio—I’m barely getting started.”
I clench my molars. I’m going to moan. I feel the release build in my throat, determined to escape. There’s so much tension. Too much. My body craves. My heart pounds.
“Tell me you want more,” he teases against my neck.
“I want more.” I respond too quickly. So damn fast my answer should be humiliating. But the embarrassment will have to wait until the aftermath. Right now, craving is all I know. Hunger entirely consumes me.
His fingers continue to creep, swiping closer and closer to my core. “How much more?”
Everything.
The moan escapes, my head falling back to rest against his shoulder.
“You can’t say it?” he asks.
No. I’ve never asked for sexual favors before. Never even voiced my need.
“Please, Matthew,” is all I can admit.
“It’s okay. I won’t make you say it. Not today.” He sweeps those fingers closer. “But soon.”
The threat shivers down my spine. The warning that I will one day have to admit my desires fills me with unstable excitement. I’m high. Euphoric. Entirely mindless with lust. I never knew this heightened state of hunger existed. This clawing, savage need.
“I enjoy seeing you like this.” He continues the external sweep of his touch. “Worked up. Greedy. This is how I’ve felt since we met. My cock hard as stone, my thoughts always on you.”
I shake my head. “You barely know me.”
“That’s the crazy part. I don’t know a damn thing about you, and still, I’m infatuated.”
Those fingers skirt the edge of my pussy. Back and forth. Up and down. Constantly teasing. I grasp his wrist, clinging tight. He has such inspiring control, such unwavering confidence.
I wiggle my hips, eager for this torture to end.
“Don’t worry, I’m impatient, too.” He kisses my jaw, my neck. “So fucking impatient, amore mio. But this is merely the beginning.”
I’m about to force his hand where I need it the most when a knock sounds on the furthest reaches of my consciousness.
I freeze, blinking back to reality.
Matthew growls in frustration.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I brace to sit up, but he holds me down with those strong hands clamped around my crotch.
“It’s only room service.” He tilts his face away, calling a loud, “Come in,” toward the hall.
I tense further, ready to fling his hand off me so I can scramble for a towel.
“Stay.” He keeps me held tight. “They’ll be gone in a minute.”
My pulse thunders as the suite door creaks open, the unmistakable rattle of a trolley quickly following.
“Sir?” a man calls. “Would you like me to leave your order in the living room?”
Matthew steels his hold, his legs tightening around me. “No, bring it to the bathroom.”
13
Matthew
“Jesus Christ.” She scrambles, wiggling and slushing water over the edge of the tub in an attempt to get out.