Chapter 15
fifteen
GENEVA
It’s starting to snow when I step outside the restaurant. Peter is still inside, settling the bill. I’ve offered to pay several times, but he just scowls at me.
The streets are nearly empty. I’m sure everyone is holed up inside. The streetlights highlight the fluffy flakes as they drift to the ground. The scene is surreal and beautiful.
Stepping out into the empty street, I stick my tongue out. I laugh thinking of all the times Rand and I did this very thing on our occasional ski trips growing up.
Those were always the best weeks of the year. My father stayed home to work, so it was just the three of us. We would terrorize the slopes while my mother sat curled in front of the fire, reading to her heart’s content.
“Take a picture, perv,” I say to the man leaning against the arch in front of the restaurant. I knew the minute Peter stepped outside. Call it a disturbance in the force. My body just feels it when he’s near. A photo flash snaps in my face.
“Thanks,” he teases. “My spank bank was running low.”
I laugh. Peter can always make me laugh. He’s also made me rage, cry, and feel way more over the years than I’d like to admit. In some ways, I think that’s what love is. To hand a piece of yourself bit by bit to another person, trusting them not to destroy you. I’ve fallen in love with Peter Winsloe. It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.
“Come help me catch snowflakes,” I say. He pushes off the wall to join me in the middle of the street. He leans his head back and opens his mouth. I have a moment to take in the muscled column of his neck. He laughs before looking back down at me. Our gazes meet. Then his lips are on mine.
His lips are cold from the night air. His tongue, though, is warm when it slides inside my mouth. He tastes like cinnamon from the dessert we shared. My hands grab the front of his coat. His hands smooth through my hair.
I want to stay like this forever, in the middle of the street, in this place. I don’t want to keep going; for the fantasy to end. I don’t want a life where he’ll grow tired of me.
He stands back up, his stormy gaze sweeping over me. His brows are furrowed as he studies me like I’m a puzzle that needs solving. I can almost see the war waging inside of him. There’s no point in me trying to sway him. He’ll make the decision he thinks is right, damn the consequences.
“Come on,” he says, finally taking my gloved hand. I almost have to jog to keep up as he drags me down the street. He nods to the receptionist as we move through the hotel lobby. We step into the elevator and he’s on me again. His body is hungrier this time. His tongue is more urgent. With a swish, the elevator doors open, and he steps back.
His keycard is ready when we reach the room door. I’m pulled inside roughly. Peter locks the door and strips out of his outerwear. Then he strips me out of mine. With one more calculated gaze, he lifts me to his waist. My back is pressed against the wall.
“I’ve reached my breaking point, Geneva,” he growls. “I can’t just stand back and watch anymore.” His lips crash against mine.
My hands find the buttons of his shirt, scrambling to get the buttons open. He breaks our kiss only long enough to rip it over his head. My nails sink into flesh as he presses me harder into the wall.
Suddenly, I’m being carried into a bedroom with a king-size bed. Peter is not gentle as he tosses me onto it. He follows me down, making short work of my shirt. His gaze stalls on the clasp of my bra.
“I know you’ve seen a front closure before,” I tease.
“Not one of yours.” His hand flicks it open. My breasts tumble out. He gently strokes the hard peak of my nipple like it’s something to be cherished. His mouth replaces his finger, and I arch at the pleasure that shoots through my body.
“Peter,” I moan. My hips buck against the thigh wedged between mine.
“Shh, little mouse. I’ve waited a long time for this. We’re not rushing through it.” His words make me moan even louder. I reach for the button on his jeans as his lips kiss a trail to my other breast. This time, he doesn’t shove my hands away. My fist closes over hot flesh when I have his jeans opened enough. His hips rock as my hand becomes slick with pre-cum.
Then he’s gone as he works down my body. I want to scream in frustration for him to come back. That I wasn’t finished with him. But he’s very much in charge, and he wants something different. My pants are dragged down my legs and discarded.
“I like these,” he says, playing with the soaked intersection of my panties. “But they’re in the way.” Twisting his hand in the waistband, he rips them from my body. There’s a new pulse of heat making my body even slicker for him. “Better,” he says. Then I feel his tongue take a long, slow journey through my lips.
“Peter,” I beg.
“Mmmm” vibrates from somewhere in his chest directly to my clit. I become shameless in a heartbeat. I can’t get enough of what he’s doing to me.
I roll my hips, riding against his face. His strong arm presses my hips into the mattress as he continues. Not being able to move is both excruciating and exquisite at the same time. My body begins to vibrate as my orgasm sneaks up on me.
“Peter!” I scream as I come undone. He gives me no quarter as he wrings every vestige of pleasure from me.
“I like when you scream my name,” he says, placing one last kiss on my mound. I’m too exhausted to answer. He climbs back up my body until he’s gazing at me. “Doing okay?”
I nod my head. It’s all the energy I’ve got.
“Then I have a question,” he says.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“How dirty do you want it?”
My mouth goes dry. Suddenly I’m not as tired as I thought I was.
“As dirty as you want to give it to me, Winsloe.” My chin juts toward him in challenge, and his eyes narrow. I think this is about to be a wild ride.
“Okay,” he says. “Wait here a moment.”
The bed dips as he climbs off me. He disappears down the hall, where I saw our luggage sitting briefly.
My mind whirls imagining what he has in mind. Should I go to the bathroom just to make sure I can last? How many orgasms is he going to insist on? I’ve had men that can do multiples. This is far from my first rodeo. What does Peter have that the rest haven’t? Other than my heart.
“Stop overthinking it,” he calls from the other room. I snort and flap my arms on the bed. He chuckles as he reappears. Even though his hands are full of stuff, I focus on what’s missing. He’s removed every stitch of clothing from his body. His cock stands proud as he stalks toward me.
“Condoms,” he says, tossing a handful on the nightstand. I quirk an eyebrow at him. That’s a lot of condoms. “You said you wanted it dirty, not reckless,” he says in answer. “Now, get on your knees.”
“By the way,” I say, flipping over and pushing up to my knees. “Condoms are optional. I’m on birth control, and I know we’re both clean.”
“How do you know I am?” He straps a collar around my neck.
“Because I know you haven’t had sex in at least six months.”
“I could have been sneaking around,” he points out. A spreader bar is hooked to my ankles.
“You’re horrible at keeping secrets. You haven’t been with anyone since you took home that blond from the year-end banquet.” He pulls me to my knees and places my hands on the headboard. I feel his body press against mine as he leans his mouth next to my ear.
“I only fucked someone when you announced a new boyfriend. It never helped though. All I wanted was this tight cunt.” He slaps me on my mound, wringing a gasp from between my lips. “Let’s see what I’ve been missing.”
He pulls the collar tight against my throat. Fresh heat surges through my body. His fingers slide through my folds against the sensitive bud. As hard as I struggle, my legs are held open. A tingling sensation begins everywhere his fingers find.
“What is that?” I ask.
“You’ll find out,” he answers. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately.” Of course, he will. This isn’t some random hook-up I’ve brought back to my room. This is Peter, my best friend. I relax and rock against his fingers. He’ll never do anything to hurt me. “Ready?”
I brace myself for what’s about to happen. A blindfold slides over my eyes. Have I ever told him how much I love to be blindfolded? I rarely trust anyone to do it, however.
I shiver as his lips gently suck on my neck. Teeth replace lips; a slick cock replaces fingers. I rock my hips back, begging for more. My ass is met with a stinging slap.
“So hungry,” he mumbles. The tingling turns into a raw need as the tip of his cock slips inside me. I don’t know what he used on me, but it’s turned me into an insatiable animal. I want him to fuck me right now. Hard and deep.
“Peter,” I demand. I try to grind my hips against him, but he moves with me. He’s keeping me from impaling myself on him. “More.”
“Behave, Geneva,” he hisses with a slap to my ass. “I’ll let you have a little more when you act like a good girl.”
“Asshole,” I sneer.
He laughs. His cockhead jumps inside me. I take a deep breath and relax. He rewards me by rocking his hips. Delicious pain pushes pleasure through me. He’s large, and I haven’t done this in a while. He was right to make me wait. Slowly, he begins to thrust. He gets deeper with every one until he’s buried inside me.
With every rock of his hips, I feel my body buzz with my impending orgasm. Then I hear a vibration. His hand snakes around my body. The vibration rests against my clit, and I explode. Colors swirl as my body screams out. Or is that me screaming?
He doesn’t let up. My orgasm is barely through my system before another follows in its wake. I can’t breathe, even though the collar has been removed from my neck. If I could just close my legs, I could control what he’s doing to me.
“Bad girl,” he says with another strike to my ass. “Almost made me come before I was ready.”
My ankles are freed from the shackles holding them in place. I feel him pull my hands away from the headboard. He has to pry my fingers off one by one. I’m eased back onto the bed, cradled in his arms. My blindfold is removed. I blink in the dim light.
“More?” he asks. My body begins to heat again at that one simple word.
“Yes,” I say shakily. How do I want more? My head tells me to climb on him and ride like there’s no tomorrow. My heart tells me to never let him go. Drawing on what little strength I have left, I swing my legs around until I’m straddling him on the edge of the bed.
“Take what you want,” he says.
So I do. I slide my aching cunt onto his hard cock. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he leans back on his hands and thrusts his hips up. I test how far I can rock up without losing him. Then I ride back down, relishing in the fullness.
My eyes feast on every part of him. The way the muscles bulge in his neck. How his eyes glaze over like a sea in a storm. Then I watch as we come together, sealing our fates.
“Fuck,” he sighs.
“Yes, several times,” I agree.
His gaze stares back into mine. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Would the world end if I told him I was in love with him? He doesn’t move, so neither do I. We sit, just looking at each other, until he finally softens. Now we just have to figure out where we go from here.