Chapter 6
YASMINE
I’ve lost my mind.
I’m sure of it because there is no other explanation for why I would say yes to spending the night with a stranger.
I’m being reckless, but for some reason I want to be; the pull is much too strong to ignore.
Cole didn’t hesitate the way I expected him to as we stepped into the hotel suite he booked for one night only, under the disguise of Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Pretending to be married has made everything so much more exciting. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, because with every second that passes, the flame smoldering in my stomach is growing into a molten fire, I’m burning all over, and ready to explode.
Whatever happens beyond tonight, I don’t know.
All I know is that I am here, now, and that’s all that matters.
Although this might be reckless, I feel powerless as Cole boldly surveys me with his eyes. It’s the ultimate confidence booster to know he desires me and can’t wait another minute to be together.
For a fleeting moment, outside the elevator, I wondered if he might reconsider and go back to his life beyond this hotel because we’re strangers who only exchanged names during a flight a few hours earlier.
But as soon as the door to the suite clicks shut behind us, his mouth is covering mine, and any shadow of doubt floats off into the ether.
Cole slides one hand into my hair while the other grips my waist, pressing me against the back of the door, and I drop my workbag, unable to hold on to anything anymore. My hands are shaking with the need to touch him again.
Having flirted since the flight, and then after sharing that life-changing kiss, it’s woken something inside of me I don’t want to put back to bed.
“I want you.” My voice is filled with longing. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” I tell him between kisses.
He nips at my lips. “Me neither,” he mumbles before going back to devouring my lips.
The kiss isn’t tentative. It’s all-consuming, and it makes me feel wild and unhinged, like I want to claw at him and let him do whatever the hell he wants to me.
I’ve never had such a strong reaction to anyone before, and certainly not someone I just met.
That’s why when his tongue strokes into my mouth, I feel it everywhere, heat pooling low in my belly and spreading through my limbs until my head spins. I don’t even know this man’s last name, and yet my body reacts to him as if it’s been waiting for him to find me.
It’s a kiss powerful enough to halt the world’s rotation, and I wouldn’t care if it brought about devastating inertia. All I know is that I want him, and he wants me.
Cole groans into my mouth with pleasure, claiming my mouth hungrily like he can’t get enough, as if I could be the last thing on Earth he plans to taste.
Every touch is intentional and powerful. When his palm moves up my spine to cup the back of my neck, tilting my head for a deeper kiss, I instinctively melt into him. My fingers clench his T-shirt, pulling him closer, craving more contact and warmth.
My heart is a mix of emotions, eager yet nervous. It feels like a washing machine stuck on the highest spin cycle, and I can’t stop it.
“Do you still want to do this?” he murmurs as he steals my breath.
“Yes,” I breathe instantly. He tastes like my perfume from having kissed my neck earlier, and temptation. He’s delicious.
That’s all the encouragement he needs.
He breaks the kiss to lift my blouse over my head, tossing it behind him. His eyes slowly scan my black lace bra, its dark, delicate fabric contrasting with my skin. There’s an expression. Of approval or hunger? I’m unsure, but whatever it is causes my thighs to press together.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says quietly, and there’s so much sincerity in his tone, I know he means it.
His hands move unhurriedly, kneading my breasts through the thin fabric, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, teasingly, then pinching just hard enough to make me gasp. The sharp pleasure causes them to tighten to hard peaks.
“Mmmm,” I hum. “That feels so good.”
He does it again, much harder this time, and my head falls back against the door.
“Sensitive,” he observes, almost amused.
“You have no idea.”
His fingers slip behind my back, find the clasp of my bra, and with expert precision, he undoes it.
Then he lets it fall away as he slides the straps down my arms and drops it to the floor.
Before I can even think, he lowers his mouth to my nipple, closing his lips over it, toying with it between his teeth, and giving it a gentle bite.
“Cole,” I gasp, digging my hands into his hair, urging him to bite harder.
The heat of his tongue makes me arch into him. He sucks slowly, too slowly when I want fast and hard, as he rolls my other nipple between his fingers, and I swear my knees nearly give out.
The room feels too warm and too small, even though the air-conditioning is on and it’s enormous.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says against my skin.
“Don’t you dare.”
A low sound of approval vibrates through his chest, making every one of my nerve endings spark to life.
Cole’s mouth trails upward between my breasts, along my collarbone, and up the column of my neck.
Then he bites my skin, his lips graze just behind my ear, and I shiver, goosebumps zipping up and down my spine in pleasure.
He doesn’t know me or what I enjoy, yet he somehow discovers every spot that makes me tremble.
Painfully slow, he steps back, watching my reaction as he reaches for his T-shirt, then grabs the fabric at the back of his neck, pulling it off with agonizing patience. When he shrugs it off, I can’t stop staring.
His body is lean and athletic; muscles defined beneath golden skin. Not overly bulky, just strong. Controlled. The kind of body that looks like it knows exactly what it’s doing.
My hands move of their own accord, sliding over his hard chest, down his six-pack stomach, over inches of his skin covered in a blackened canvas of tattoos.
Some look new while others look older and faded.
Words, spirals, affirmations, dragons, exotic fish, clocks, roses, numbers, letters, some in English, some in a language I can’t decipher…
They all merge into one, creating a work of art. He’s gorgeous.
“You’re staring,” he says, lips quirking, his skin twitching beneath my touch.
“You’re very distracting.”
Cole laughs softly and reaches for his belt.
The metallic click of the buckle sliding free makes my pulse jump.
He doesn’t rush. He unfastens his jeans slowly, deliberately, holding my gaze the whole time.
When he undoes his fly, he pushes the denim down his lean hips along with his boxers and steps out of them. I swallow. Hard.
His cock is hard, and he’s huge, so big it’s almost touching his stomach.
Brazenly, he wraps his hand around his shaft and fists himself, and I’m captivated by every downward stroke. My excitement is so intense that I almost forget where I am as a rush of arousal floods through me.
I desperately want to taste him.
My mouth goes drier than a sawdust smoothie, and I blink once, then twice, unable to comprehend how long his dick is. Smooth and velvety too, with just the perfect amount of girth.
But holy shit, will it fit? If it does, I’m going to be walking funny for days afterward.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Your turn.” Cole interrupts my thoughts, his voice much lower now as he continues to jerk himself off, precum beading at the tip, making it glisten under what little light there is left of the day.
Intently, he studies every small movement I make, making sure I’m doing as I’m told.
As painfully as he made me wait, I take my time, pinching the metal pull tab on the zipper of my skirt between my fingers and unlocking the interlocking teeth, one painful tooth at a time.
“Mina,” he warns through clenched teeth. His jaw tics, as if he’s unhappy that I’m taking my damn sweet time.
“Yes, Cole,” I coo.
“Move quicker,” he snaps, bursting with impatience. I have to stifle a laugh because my sloth-like movements are driving him crazy, exactly what I was hoping for.
“I’m worth the wait, I promise,” I say breathlessly, sounding braver than I feel, and shimmy the fabric off my hips. I let it pool at my feet, leaving me in nothing but a scrap of lace underwear.
The cool air in the suite kisses my bare skin, but the heat in his eyes keeps me warm.
“Come here,” he murmurs, crooking a finger.
Channeling my inner confidence, I decide that if I’m getting only one night with him, I’m making the most of it.
I sink to my knees, slipping my hair to the side to hang over one shoulder, and crawl to him, closing the small distance between us, wiggling my ass side to side to hold his attention.
He inhales sharply, and I smile to myself.
“You have a tattoo,” he gasps, and it’s not a question.
“Do you like it?” I look up through my lashes, knowing full well he’d appreciate the large lotus mandala tattoo spanning my upper and mid back.
Detailed and layered with petals and soft shades to give it dimension, the whole piece took over six hours to complete because the precise dotwork and subtle shadowing linework alone took two hours to make it look like fine lace filigree.
Above the lotus, it extends just under the nape of my neck, but below the large flower, my tattoo tapers into elegant dangling ornaments that hang like jewelry all the way down my spine.
“I fucking love it,” he replies eventually, because he’s too busy taking it all in.
As my hands slide up his thick thighs, his muscles tense beneath my palms. My fingers explore his skin, brushing over more jaw-dropping leg sleeve tattoos that stretch all the way down to his ankles. He’s a work of art that deserves to be hung in a gallery for everyone to appreciate.