Chapter 31 #2
I hug all the girls good night. Hammer’s gone to grab a round of drinks. I spot her at the bar, getting chatted up by some random guy. She flips her hair over her shoulder.
“Check it out,” I say to Hemi.
She follows my gaze. “Roman went up to his room ten minutes ago.”
“What about Hollis? Is he still here to play bodyguard?” I ask.
We scan the bar together.
“There he is, nine o’clock.” Hemi tips her chin in his direction.
He’s standing with Dallas, Ashish, and Shilpa.
I head back to Tristan, who’s leaning casually against the bar. But his gaze is all fiery promises.
He tips his chin at Dallas, Ashish, and Shilpa as we pass.
Hollis isn’t with them anymore. I assume he’s gone to manage the situation with Hammer and the flirty guy.
But she’s still talking to him—she’s only half paying attention to what he’s saying, though.
I follow her gaze to the elevators, where Hollis is.
The doors open, but before he steps over the threshold he glances back.
I swear, for a second, a hint of longing crosses his face.
Then he disappears inside the elevator, and the doors close behind him.
“Did you see that?”
“See what?” Tristan asks.
“Nothing. Never mind. Let’s go up to the room so you can make me regret wearing this.”
Two guys join us in the elevator, and Tristan slings his arm over my shoulder and pulls me in close.
He kisses my temple. They get off on the twelfth floor.
We’re on the fifty-third. As soon as we’re alone, he presses me against the mirrored wall.
One hand circles my throat, the other finds its way between my legs.
His eyes flare when he skims bare flesh. “Where are your panties?”
“My purse.”
He withdraws his hand and holds it out. “Give them to me.”
I retrieve them and drop them into his open palm.
He rubs the crotch between his fingers. “They’re soaked. Did you take care of yourself in the bathroom? I’ll know if you’re lying,” he warns.
I shake my head.
He glances above the doors. We have twenty floors to go.
He lifts the hem of my jersey dress and edges a foot between mine, widening my stance.
Tristan drags a single finger up the inside of my right thigh, then brings it to his lips and licks the pad.
“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re dripping wet.
Does the idea of getting fucked like a naughty little bunny excite you? ”
I bite my lip and nod.
We’re at the fortieth floor now.
“We should stop the leak before you make a mess all over the elevator floor.”
For a second, I’m confused, until he drags my damp panties up the inside of my thigh, then pushes them inside me.
“Oh my fucking God,” I whisper-moan.
His lip curls in a salacious smile as he fills me with my panties. The elevator dings our arrival at the fifty-third floor as he tucks away the last of the fabric and pulls my dress back into place. He laces our fingers, and we stroll leisurely down the hall.
I’m vibrating with anticipation.
The second we’re inside the room, Tristan pins me against the door. His mouth covers mine in a searing kiss, and I try to hook one of my legs around his.
“You think I’m going to let you rub that greedy pussy of yours all over my thigh?” His nose brushes mine as he traps my legs between his. He pushes his hips into me, his erection pressed against my stomach.
I groan as I grip his hair and try to pull his mouth back to mine. He tips his chin up and looks down at me through hooded lids. “Get my cock out.”
I abandon his hair and find his belt. With shaking hands, I free the clasp, pop the button, and drag the zipper down. Tristan makes a deep, needy sound when I slide my hand into his boxer briefs and wrap my fingers around his erection. I free it from the black fabric and stroke from base to tip.
He steps back and arches a brow. “It’s not going to suck itself, is it?”
I drop to my knees on the plush carpet and lick up the length, then cover the head with my lips, running my tongue around the crown, sliding over the weeping slit at the tip.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts.
I pop off long enough to ask, “Am I the best bunny?” Then wrap my lips around him and roll my tongue around the head.
He pulls me off long enough to ask, “Is that what you want? For me to treat you like a bunny?”
“Your only bunny,” I clarify.
“I fucking love you, Bea. More than anything,” he declares.
“I love you, too. But tonight, I want you to fuck me like a toy.”
He blinks a couple of times. Blows out a long breath. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”
“You know my limits,” I assure him.
And he does. Every time, he pushes me right to the edge, and I love every freaking minute of it.
I want to drop a hand between my thighs and rub my clit, but I know if I do, I’ll be delaying my release.
Instead, I grip his base and cup his balls in my other hand as I bob up and down on his cock.
I hum and moan and make loud slurping sounds.
When I pop off, I spit on the head and rub it over my lips before I take him into my mouth again, deeper with every pass.
He gathers my hair in his hands and wraps it around his fist. His other palm settles against the soft space under my chin and tips it up. “You gonna take it all like a good little bunny?”
I make an affirmative sound, and he holds my head still, hips pulling back and snapping forward.
The head hits the back of my throat, and I gag.
I grip my thighs, determined not to grab his in a wordless request to temper his pace.
He pulls back and gives me a moment to find my composure and my breath.
And then he thrusts again. This time I’m ready.
“That’s it. So fucking good.” His thumb sweeps along the contour of my bottom lip.
He finds a rhythm, holding my head in place while he fucks my mouth, and I moan around his cock, make all the noises I know he loves, drooling all over him.
When he comes, I swallow it down. Spit runs down my chin and my neck.
My eyes are watering, and I’m on edge and desperate for release, but aware I’ll get it when he’s ready to give it.
He bends to kiss me. It’s sloppy and wet, but he doesn’t seem to care. “You okay with hard and dirty?” he asks.
“Yes, please,” I whisper.
“Such a sweet little bunny, aren’t you?”
A moment later, I’m on my back on the plush carpet in the middle of the living room.
From where I’m lying, I can see the roses he had sent to the room for my arrival.
My knees end up at my chest, and he licks up the length of me and latches onto my clit.
I almost lose my mind at the sensation of it all.
Every time I think I’m about to tip over the edge, he stops.
And then starts the same torment over again. My panties are still tucked inside me.
He latches back onto my clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and at the same time, he eases a finger inside.
He hooks the lacy fabric and tugs as he sucks, and I go careening over the edge into bliss.
As I’m coming down from the high, he shoves his fingers into my mouth and pulls my panties free with his teeth.
He drops them on the carpet and replaces them with his fingers, making the orgasm feel endless.
He flips me over on my stomach and brackets my legs with his. My cheek is pressed against the plush carpet.
He kisses my temple and orders, “Open.”
I part my lips, and my panties end up in my mouth. And then he slides into me.
I’m so fucking wet. And already coming again. He slips his palm under my cheek so I don’t end up with rug burn on my face and fucks me into the floor. My nipples scrape the carpet, and I taste my own desire as I moan around my panties. As far as dirty fucks go, this absolutely takes the cake.
“I love you.” His lips brush my cheek. “So fucking much.”
I make a noise around my panties.
He pulls them free so I can speak.
“I love you, too.”
On the next thrust, he pulls back, flips me over, and fills me again.
When I come this time, it’s with his eyes on mine, his hands framing my face, and his love for me a mantra on his lips.