“Is this real?” he growls between all-consuming kisses. There's no hesitation. He touches me like he owns me. And that's when I realize it. He does.
I can still pull away. I can still stop this. I can sail to safe harbor, but I haven’t made it this far to give up now. On myself. On him. On us.
I bite back.
Sterling betrays little of the pain. Instead, he simply grunts. He is primal. Animalistic. He takes as he gives. His possession liberates me until I can feel it. I can feel every raw, aching nerve in my body.
The fingernails of his free hand scratch me slightly as his hand makes its way to my waiting, bared breast. “And this?” My nipples stiffen painfully, and I moan in spite of myself. “Tell me this isn’t as real as it gets.”
Meeting his gaze as evenly as I can, I shake my head. I can’t tell him that.
“That’s right, Lucky,” he says through gritted teeth.
As if to underscore his point, he bends to take my right nipple between his teeth. He doesn’t bite down, but I feel the threat he will almost hysterically. His hand soothes my left breast, rubbing gently in counterpoint to his mouth, which begins to suck on my breast, hard. I can feel blood rushing in, engorging the nipple, making it more tender.
When at last he releases it from his mouth, the feeling is dangerous and exquisite. Relief at freedom gives way to a painful stab of absence, which itself gives way to a deep ecstasy, throbbing in time with my heart. It feels like he has connected me to the resonant frequency of the universe.
“I know what’s between us is real, Adair. It’s a feeling I have when I look at you. Would you like me to show you how it feels?”
My eyelids flutter, an approving moan slipping past my lips. A wicked grin lights his face, and I realize my head is bobbing furiously, though I don’t think I sent that instruction.
The arm pinning me in place disappears. My body reacts intuitively, attempting to close the distance between us, but Sterling pushes me back against the wall with a palm to my belly. He kneels before me, kisses my navel. His fingers pinch the black lace fabric of my panties, pull it away from me. He lets the fabric go, and the elastic threads snap back into place, giving me a jolt. He does it again and again, always kissing my belly.
Is this what he feels? That I’m a tease, or that he needs to tease me? Or is it just torment? Delicious torment? He doesn’t need to show me that. He always tormented me.
Suddenly I feel the rough skin of his knuckles brushing between my legs. Then, the lace of my panties bites into my hips, followed by the sound of ripping fabric. I feel the shredded lace dangling loosely around my hips, exposing the rest of me. Cold air floods across my sensitive sex and couples with my wetness to send shivers up my spine.
He stands, his wild look reflecting how I feel. Arms wrap around me, holding me close to him. My body finds its shape in him, my curves filling the open space that should never be allowed to exist. Then, his hands move to the last band of fabric hanging off my hips. He finds the seam and slowly pulls it apart. I feel every thread give way. When he rips the last few threads from my body, my breath explodes out of my mouth. Sterling puts his mouth near my ear and whispers, “This is real.”
“Yes.” It comes out in a squeak as I struggle to take in oxygen. My hands grope feebly at the button of his jeans.
“We should be careful, Lucky, we don’t—”
“I’m on the pill.”
It’s his turn to react instinctively. He lifts me from the ground and pins my splayed hips between his chest and the wall. He looks up at me, his face full of naked lust and wonder and reverence. Had it always been there? Had I been too stupid or too consumed with my own pleasure to see it? I feel something fundamental shift—realign. But I don’t have time to consider what it is or what it means, because Sterling frees his cock and plunges inside me.
My arms hook around his neck. My ankles cross above his buttocks. I hold on to him. Sterling’s hands cup the bottom of my ass, supporting my weight but also pulling me wider, so that he can fill more of me.
Restraint has left the building.
He looks into my eyes—and for a moment, he shows me he has nothing to hide, and that I have nothing to fear—and I want this to last forever.
“Don’t,” I pant, “stop…don’t ever stop!”
Sterling smirks and shifts slightly until I can’t find the words to make demands. “Ohhhh—”
His long, strong strokes become quick and powerful, punctuated by the impact of his pelvis on my clitoris. He’s my anchor point. My body shatters around him, safe in the eye of the storm. I am free. I am tethered. I am everything and I am only this. When Sterling arrives a moment later, his eyes roll up to the ceiling, and at last the missing element is found. I dissolve into him, and he into me.
This has always been the easy part.
Sterling’s sweaty forehead presses against mine as we untangle ourselves. He adjusts my robe, covering my body again. “Have dinner with me.”
It’s not a question. I swallow to give myself time to come up with a reason to say no, but I can’t find one that outweighs how much I want to say yes. I gesture down to the robe.“I should change.”
“I like you just the way you are.” He brushes his thumb over my swollen bottom lip.
“You tore off my panties,” I remind him, “and the last time I checked the restaurant had a dress code.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” He releases his hold on me, and, bending down, he gathers the lacy remnants of my panties from the ground before shoving them into his pocket.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to keep those.” Why do I hope he says yes?
He winks at me, turning his smile up until it’s blinding. “Consider it a trophy.”
“If I find them mounted on the wall at your apartment, we’re going to need to talk.”
Sterling twines his hands through mine, leading me down the hall. I’d forgotten for a moment that we never made it inside the suite.
Now that he’s no longer occupying every ounce of my attention with his body, my surroundings remind me. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve done something as reckless as that, but the flush of shame I expect to heat my cheeks never arrives. I don’t care that I have no business screwing Sterling in the hall of the Eaton. Because I’m already thinking about Sterling’s hands and how much I want them on me again. I’m shaking so badly I can’t get my keycard to work.
“Allow me.” He reaches for it, but I hold it away.
“I’ve got it,” I snap despite all evidence to the contrary. It’s too much. He’s too much. I can’t even think with him this close. Not after that. Not still reeling from how he makes me feel. It takes every ounce of discipline I have to shut the door to the suite in his face with a quick “I’ll be right out.”
If that’s what happens when he catches me outside my door, I can’t risk allowing him inside. We need to talk. He needs to come clean, and I need to hold him accountable. With a locked door between us, I remember that I don’t even have underwear here. I settle for cleaning myself up in the bathroom as best I can. I’m going to have to get some clothes soon, particularly if he’s going to keep shredding mine.