Chapter 23
ROMAN
I’m such a fucking fool.
I knew it when I first joined After Hours, and I’m even more sure of it now as I enter the elevator with Wesley Hayes’ little sister, her taste still on my tongue and fingers. The warning alarms have been silent since we got in the cab together.
Brielle’s far more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and I’ve never been more conscious of how far out of my league she is than this moment.
There is not one single part of her that I’ve come to learn about that doesn’t draw me closer or intensify my need to find the rest of the unexplored pieces of her.
The elevator doors have just barely closed when I take Brielle by the shoulder and guide her deeper inside.
My mouth drops to hers and parts her lips without hesitation, our tongues meeting instantly.
The growl in my chest intensifies as this unfamiliar beast takes form in my chest and feasts on her taste and every pretty noise filling my mouth.
Her hands move all over my body, never settling in one place for too long.
My hair, neck, chest, and back, she leaves nowhere untouched, unexplored.
She yanks her lips away long enough that she can look down at where her trembling fingers have started undoing my shirt buttons.
I steal them again, not willing to lose a fucking second now that I’ve given in to this.
It’s easier for me to join her in undoing my shirt instead.
“I want you, Roman,” she declares, eyes clashing with mine.
I grab her waist, hitching her against my front. A sharp intake of breath is the first reaction she has to the new connection. To feeling my hard cock against her middle. I’m this aroused because of her and only her. It’s been this way for too many months to count right now.
“You know I want you just as badly. Maybe more,” I declare.
She lowers her lashes, watching me through the slit beneath them. “More? I doubt it.”
I tap the space beneath her chin to lift it before pressing my thumb into her bottom lip. She swallows, then slowly opens, allowing me the space to guide the digit into her mouth. Her shudder is immediate while her tongue lashes, and fuck—it’s too much.
“Suck.”
Her moan vibrates around my finger as she listens, watching me the entire time like she’s searching for approval. Praise, maybe.
My thumb sinks deeper, past the first knuckle. Her reaction only grows more intense, spreading far beyond the simple tease I anticipated it to be. She likes this. Really, really likes it.
I stare deeper, harder, needing to reveal the words inside her beautiful head that are trapped behind my intrusion, unable to be set free. There’s something different about her right now. Something darker, needier. Like she’s sinking into a place I haven’t ever explored.
A place I’ve seen her enter online.
In an instant, there’s a trickle of icy water rolling down my spine.
I grow still, my thumb stuck knuckle-deep in her mouth.
My jaw works, anger and frustration warring with the need that’s screaming for me to keep going.
Warm, steady hands fall to my belt. The clack of the buckle being undone yanks at my subconscious, demanding I pull my head from my ass.
Brielle pops off my thumb with a loud smack of her pink lips. Before I can pull it away, she snags my hand and brings it to the top of her head and holds it there while reaching across the elevator and smashing the emergency stop button.
My mind whirls. Alarm and concern push forward first, but she leaves me no time to question what she’s doing. I hold my breath when she presses down on the hand palming her crown, and then—
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I grit out, my brain lagging as I watch her.
She settles on her knees in front of me and abandons my hand. Her focus shifts to the front of my slacks as she undoes the zipper and, with a firm shove, sends them and my briefs down my thighs. My cock jumps at the freedom, the leaking tip glistening in the light.
“Get out of your head, Roman,” she demands, but it’s weak, breathless.
I search the elevator for the camera I know must be there, but she wraps her fingers around my shaft before I can find it.
She’s the centre of my attention now. My eyes don’t stray from the sight of her kneeling before me, with my thick cock in her hand and lips poised so close to where I’m dripping that one thrust forward would slide it between them.
“They can see us,” I croak, reaching behind me to palm the wall.
“Who?”
Her tongue darts out, and I see white. Soft, blonde curls get fisted when I curl my fingers and hiss a breath, trying not to move as she collects the precum rolling down my shaft. It’s the most beautiful torture I’ve ever experienced. I crave more, regardless of the consequences.
“Brielle,” I grunt, chin dipping into my chest. “Cameras.”
She rubs the head against her mouth, using my cum as lip gloss as she moans, sending the vibrations down to my tight balls. There’s no stopping now. Nothing is keeping me from her anymore. Not tonight.
“Let them watch. I don’t mind an audience,” she purrs.
I don’t get a chance to reply. The moment she finally takes me into her mouth, I’m incapable of stringing words together. Wet warmth envelops the tip as she guides me over her flattened tongue, coating the shaft in spit.
My hold on her hair tightens when her cheeks hollow, and that heat travels lower, coiling around three-quarters of my shaft. Disbelief crashes through me as my jaw relaxes, and a low, dangerously rough groan fills the elevator. I can’t keep still. Can’t not move.
I curse when the pleasure grows, and my hips jerk forward, pushing more of my cock into her mouth.
The tip hits the back of her throat, making her gag.
I wait for her to pop off and scold me, but the only movement she makes is to push further.
My nails scrape her scalp as she makes a wet noise of pleasure and opens her throat before sinking deeper.
The walls of her throat squeeze around me, forcing words out of my mouth that I didn’t know I was thinking.
“Yes. Yes—fuuuck. Choke on it, sweetheart. That’s it. Let me hear you again.”
She mewls around the intrusion as spit leaks from the corners of her mouth and drips down my balls. I keep a solid hold on her but don’t force her to move. There’s no need for me to.
As if I weren’t already in way over my head with this woman, feeling her nose hit my groin and stay there until she’s forced my orgasm would have done it.
I’m completely ruined by her. My sack draws up as I fall back against the wall and unload down her tight, warm throat, unseeing anything but her.
“Swallow, baby,” I plead, trying to claw at the wall.
Brielle’s eyes flick up, finding mine and holding, watching as I lose myself piece by piece. She doesn’t waste a drop as she swallows me down, those dainty fingers tightening around my base, pink-tipped nails drawing soft lines along the sensitive skin.
Once I’ve finished, she runs her tongue from root to tip and pulls back.
The slow movement tugs at the muscles in my lower stomach, making them flex.
She doesn’t immediately release me until she’s given the deep red tip a parting kiss.
The corners of her lips curl when she looks back up at me and releases my cock.
“Better?” she asks coyly.
“Than?”
“Than getting lost in your head and pushing me away again.”
Slowly, she rises and brings my pants up with her. My hand remains in her hair until she grabs that, too, and steadies it in front of her mouth. My stare grows hot when I learn why.
The glistening droplet of cum lingering on the corner of her mouth doesn’t stay there for long. Brielle takes my thumb and drags it across the pearl before surprising me and bringing it to my lips.
My brows jump as she confidently pushes it between them and onto my waiting tongue. The taste of myself doesn’t bother me as much as I would have thought when it’s her responsible for it.
I have the sudden realization that she’s going to push me so far out of my comfort zone I’ll never be able to find it again. I’ve always known that she doesn’t follow a specific set of rules and prefers to set her own, but right now, in this moment, that’s never been more intimidating.
Still, it doesn’t scare me.
With a stretch of my arm, I push the emergency stop button again. The elevator buzzes back to life before continuing its course.
“Well?” she murmurs, releasing me.
I slowly shake my head, already dropping it until she’s forced to tip hers back to remain eye contact. My returning restlessness disappears once again with our closeness.
“It was much better, Brielle. But you already knew that.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t want confirmation. You’ve walked away too many times for me to trust that you won’t again.”
“I’m tired of walking away,” I say.
Her breath skips. “You’ll stay for a while, then?”
“We’re going to my room. Where else would I go?”
“Anywhere else,” she whispers, almost sounding embarrassed.
I cup her cheek in my hand, holding it firmly so she can’t slip away. “Not tonight.”
“Okay.”
We remain like this for a few silent moments. Our lips brush, but don’t press together. We exchange breaths in a soft, nearly desperate manner, like if we stop for even a moment, we’ll both suffocate. She holds my bicep with a tight grip, keeping me anchored here.
There’s something almost scarily intimate about the position, yet I can’t force myself to cut the connection. So, I fall into it headfirst with a parachute on my back that I doubt will deploy before I hit the earth again.
We don’t flinch when the elevator dings and the doors slide open. There’s an unspoken agreement here. One that claims far more than one night together.
For now, neither of us mentions it.
I guide us out of the elevator and into the dimly lit hall leading to my hotel room with one unmovable hand on her back. My wallet is heavy in my pocket, reminding me that I need to grab my key card. She watches with bright green eyes as I slip it free and stop us in front of the deep brown door.
“I haven’t . . .” I scowl to myself, hesitating to unlock the door. “It’s been a while.”
“Me too.”
My head snaps to the side. “What?”
“Is that hard to believe or something?”
“Yes, Brielle. It is. Look at you.” I almost laugh at how obvious it should be to her.
“That doesn’t mean anything. There are thousands upon thousands of beautiful people in the world. I’m one who hasn’t had sex in months.”
I wet my lips, still not understanding but opting not to argue about something so minuscule. Instead, I bring the back of her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles while pressing the key card to the door. It unlocks with a click.
“I’m a lucky fucking man, then.”