Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
Emilio was shaken by the kiss, by the power of it. He had wanted Jasmine to be the one desiring him, but he was the one hopelessly consumed. It couldn’t end here. He needed more of her.
Every day Emilio fought the siren’s call to be impulsive.
He hated himself for that part of his nature.
He’d strengthened his resolve against it.
He only ever made calculated, logical decisions.
Now? Afflicted with a grief he couldn’t escape, and an attraction so powerful it overwhelmed him, clouding his impeccably honed judgement, he finally lost that battle.
He could think of nothing but Jasmine. No woman had affected him like this.
He led her wordlessly out of the thumping, noisy club, heading to the lifts that would take them to the rest of the hotel. It was only once they left that he realised just how loud it had been inside. He had heard nothing, noticed nothing, while they’d been speaking. While they’d kissed.
‘Where are we going?’ Jasmine asked as they reached the lift. She was flushed and breathless. As breathless as Emilio felt. It was satisfying to know she was just as affected as he was.
‘You’ll see,’ he said.
The doors slid open and he hit the button for the ground floor, praying no one else would stop the lift.
In the enclosed space, a haze of lust settled over them. The air was thick with it.
‘Are we going to your place?’ she asked.
Definitely not. Emilio didn’t entertain in his home. A home was for a family, and he didn’t have that—would never have that.
‘It’s too far,’ he answered. Judging by that kiss, she was as impatient as he was.
Before they could fall into another, the doors opened, letting them out on the ground floor.
He took Jasmine’s hand—the thought of not having any contact with her electric skin was too much to bear—and walked them to the hotel reception.
‘Mr D—’
‘I need a suite,’ Emilio said, before the hotel receptionist could give his name away.
‘Yes, sir. Overnight stay or longer?’
‘Overnight is fine.’
Despite the receptionist’s efficiency, it felt like an age while he typed on his keyboard. Especially when Emilio looked into Jasmine’s eyes and found himself leaning towards her. It took all his willpower to tear his gaze away and thank the man behind the desk when he handed over the keycard.
As soon as they were once again ensconced in the lift, Emilio’s resistance ran out. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her against his body, his entirety pulsing with need.
She kissed him, hard and full, surprising Emilio with her fervency.
His back thumped against the golden wall as he pulled her with him, their mouths never parting.
Every slide of their lips making them desperate, turning the kiss ever wilder.
Her lips were as frantic as his. He felt the scrape of sequins against his palm as he fisted her dress, wishing he could tear it right off her; her hands were digging at his side, his chest just as desperately.
Emilio had been with many women but none quite as tall as Jasmine.
In her heels she was only just shorter than him.
And he loved it. Loved the fact that every part of his body pressed against her.
She would be able to feel his arousal exactly where she would be craving it most. He craved her too.
He was utterly lost to this maddening chemistry and only barely heard the ding of the lift.
They moved together down the corridor in a frenetic dance, lips locked.
Emilio only managed to pause long enough to swipe the keycard that allowed them entry into the swanky suite.
Lights flickered on as they stumbled through the door.
It had barely clicked shut before lips and hands were everywhere—pushing, shoving, tearing at each other’s clothes, laying a trail of fabric breadcrumbs leading to a spectacular bedroom.
Emilio didn’t take notice of a single detail. All that mattered was the bed.
He picked Jasmine up and laid her down gently on the soft covers.
His lips trailed along her jaw, down her neck, over her chest. Taking her nipple into his mouth, he made her back arch in a gasp, but he didn’t linger there, continuing his path of kisses down her body until he caught the band of her panties in his teeth.
‘Emilio,’ she whined.
He wanted to take his time teasing her. Wanted to drive her completely mad.
But he would only be doing the same to himself, and he had very little patience left.
He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she affected him like a drug.
He ripped away her panties. The sound that escaped her was part-laugh, part-moan as he let the scrap of lace fall to the floor and dropped to his knees.
When he pulled her to the edge of the bed, Jasmine let out a sound of shock.
‘Eyes on me,’ he instructed and, holding her gaze, he lowered his mouth to the heart of her.
Licking, sucking, teasing. Tormenting. And relishing every heaved breath, every moan, every nonsensical utterance.
Every one of them drove his arousal higher and higher, until he was so hard it was nearly painful.
But still he wouldn’t let up, not when she was writhing in pleasure so pure, and he could tell she was getting close.
So, he banded his arms over her hips, keeping her still, forcing her to absorb every ounce of pleasure—until she was shattering on his tongue.
And he kept going until she sunk her fingers into his hair, pulling on it.
Only then did he climb over her and give her exactly what she wanted: a kiss so wild, so untamed, that it cast every thought from his head.
In this moment, sharing with Jasmine her own honeyed taste and feeling her body undulating against his— wanting his—Emilio was nameless.
He had no history and no future. He existed solely in this void where passion was soul-consuming. There was only now.
‘Belleza,’ Emilio said lowly. ‘I want you.’
‘I want you too,’ Jasmine replied.
‘But—’
‘But this is just for tonight. No last names.’ It was as though she’d read his mind.
‘No talking about the past or future.’
‘No strings.’
‘Just pleasure.’
‘Now take me, Emilio.’
Jasmine had never quite experienced anything like this. Emilio had given her one of the best releases of her life, but she wanted more. She was insatiable and something told her the moment they were done, she would want more yet again. Emilio made her insatiable.
He’d answered her plea by rolling them both, allowing Jasmine to straddle him, his back against the covers. Now her hips began to move of their own accord. ‘It’s my turn,’ she said, feeling utterly wicked.
Emilio casually folded his arms under his head, but he didn’t fool her—not with the pupils of his coffee-coloured eyes blown wide, his muscles cording from his restraint.
She wanted to see that restraint snap. So she peeled his underwear away, watching as his chest rose and fell and his eyelids fluttered closed.
She took a moment to admire him in his perfect nudity, to trail a finger between the valley of his abs all the way down, where the muscle arrowed towards his hardness.
What an incredible specimen of a man he was.
What a perfect partner she had chosen with whom to let loose for the night.
‘You don’t get to close your eyes,’ she said as she grasped his length.
‘Tentatrice . ’ His voice was hoarse. His breathing sped up as she lowered her head and when she took him in her mouth his groan was guttural. It all made pride swell within Jasmine. She teased him mercilessly until she felt his fingers in her hair pulling her off him.
‘Belleza . ’ He swallowed thickly. ‘You’re torturing me. I need to have you.’
Jasmine wanted that too, so she let him go enough to reach for the foil packet that sat on the bedside table.
He must have pulled it out of his pocket when she was too preoccupied tearing at his clothes to notice.
She took the square from him, tearing it open with her teeth and rolling the latex down his length.
It made him curse and, before she knew it, she was on her back and panting as his fingers ran through her slickness.
‘Please, Emilio. Stop teasing me,’ she begged. It hadn’t escaped her just how easily he had taken control, but she decided she didn’t care as long as he delivered on this taunting promise of pleasure.
He hooked her leg around his hip and slowly pushed into her, a string of curses falling from his lips, setting a storm of lightning flashing in her core. The intensity was nearly more than she could bear, and yet she chased that feeling. She wanted more.
And Emilio delivered, setting a punishing rhythm that had sweat beading on his brow. Driving them both to the edge of sanity. All rational thought annihilated. Her body existed only in this plane of pleasure.
Just as she was about to lose herself altogether, she heard Emilio curse.
‘Merda!’
Everything came to a grinding halt.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. She was barely able to think. All she wanted was for Emilio to resume, to continue driving them to euphoric heights.
‘The condom broke.’
‘It’s fine. Just don’t stop!’ she begged, thinking of the release that waited just out of reach. Her hips bucked, trying to gain any bit of friction she could find. ‘Please!’
‘Jasmine…’ Emilio panted. She could feel the tremble in his body.
‘I’m on birth control. Please, Emilio. Please don’t stop!’ They both needed this. ‘Please . ’
And he finally listened, picking up right where they’d left off. Their moans were a melody floating in the air. Their bodies provided the rhythm.
Jasmine wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to get even closer.
Higher. She wanted everything. And that was when she felt every thread in her body grow taut, then snap free in a violent release that erased all sound and sight.
But she still felt Emilio. Felt the pulse of his release, the tensing of his body.
And the very first thing that penetrated the deafening haze of pleasure was the sound of him growling her name.
Jasmine had always enjoyed sex, but she had never felt anything like this—such utter intensity. Her whole body was sensitized and yet she was completely limp. Spent. Her eyelids were already growing heavy. She heard Emilio murmur her name again, but he so sounded far away…
***
The first thing Jasmine became aware of as she stirred awake was a warm weight against her back.
The unfamiliar room around her was nearly black, the only light filtering through cracks around the doors.
She blinked away the cobwebs of sleep and realised she was in a hotel room. One she had slept in…with a stranger.
Her heart began to race. What the hell had she done?
Memories of the intoxicating passion from the night before came rushing back.
She turned to look at the man soundly asleep on the pillows beside hers.
Emilio. No last name. Sleep did nothing to dull his beauty or bring any relief from her attraction to him, but he was still a stranger.
She never lost control of herself like she had last night.
With as much care as she could muster, limbs still loose with sleep, she climbed out of bed and began her search for her clothes. She didn’t take her eyes off the man in between the sheets, even as she was shoving her legs into her recovered panties.
It’s fine, she thought to herself. We’re consenting adults.
We needed a release. But rational thought did nothing to ease the butterflies in her belly when she looked at him, nor the anxiety from having acted so out of character.
With one last look at him, she quietly crept out of the bedroom, locating her garments in a trail that led to the entrance of the suite.
Once her second stiletto was on her foot, she slowly opened the door and softly closed it behind her.
It was still dark outside. And maybe this encounter could remain there, in that darkness. There need be no guilt for leaving so quietly, because Emilio had wanted this to be a night without strings as much as she had.
No past, no future, Jasmine reminded herself as she made her way to the bank of lifts and hit the down arrow. We went out looking for fun and we found it. But now we put this night behind us and move on .
And, as if the lift had heard her, the doors slid open to carry her away.