5. Lars
“Thirty-four twelve,” she answers, chest heaving.
I’ve barely caught my own breath as I lead her out of the elevator.
She kisses like a predator, like she’s hungry for it and I’m her prey.
This woman is going to make me lose control.
Her skill, her charm, and fuck, when my hips pressed to hers and I felt her holstered gun press against me, I almost came in my fucking pants.
My dick is protesting in my jeans and all I can think about is sinking balls deep into her.
She leads me down the hall, hips swaying with the kind of confidence that makes my pulse pound. I follow a step behind, my hand still in hers. We reach the door and she stops to pull out her phone to tap the digital key and I snap.
My hand goes to her hip, pulling her back into me as I lower my mouth to the curve where her neck meets her shoulder. The first kiss is soft, barely there; the second isn’t. I wrap an arm around her waist, draw her flush against me, and let my teeth scrape her skin just enough to hear her inhale.
The phone wobbles in her hand.
“I’m trying to open the door,” she murmurs, but she tilts her neck, offering me more. Tempting me to take it.
“I don’t give a damn about the door, I’ll fuck you right here if I have to,” I whisper against her skin.
She finally taps the lock, the mechanism clicks, and when the door opens, she turns toward me, and we stumble inside together—her walking backward; me devouring every inch of space between us.
The door shuts behind us; the lock sliding into place.
The city lights outside wash the room in soft gold, but she outshines every bit of it.
I step back and look at her because she’s captivated me since the moment she stacked those chips and took a grown man’s pride with nothing but her mind and a bluff that should be criminal.
I move in, slow enough that she can stop me if she wants to, until her shoulders meet the wall and her breath brushes my mouth. My voice comes out low and raw.
“I haven’t wanted a woman like I want you in a very long time.”
Her lips part, a question forming, but I don’t let her speak. I drag the backs of my fingers along her jaw, down the line of her throat, until they rest over her pulse—fast and alive, telling me she wants me just as badly.
“Sitting across from you while you read that table like you could see into every soul at it…” I shake my head, a dark smile cutting through my control. “Smart, cunning, and breathtaking. I haven’t been that turned on from a card game in my life.”
A sound slips from her, a mixture between a laugh and a gasp, and I feel it like a vise around my spine. Reaching up, I pull the clasp holding her hair in place and watch as it falls into messy waves over her shoulders.
I lean in, letting my forehead touch hers. “Tell me you want me,” I say. “I won’t take a single thing you don’t offer. But if you say yes, Neomi, I’m going to ruin you in ways you’ll remember every time you touch those cards.”
Her hand fists into my hair, pulling me closer. “Yes,” she says confidently. “Ruin me, Lars.”
With that permission, I claim her mouth, and the heat between us builds into molten energy.
My lips move slowly against hers until I slide my tongue against the seam of her mouth, and she opens.
Her head tilts, inviting me in deeper. My tongue slides against hers and her breath is a sharp inhale.
Her body presses to mine, a perfect match of heat and intent.
I pull back just enough to speak against her lips, breath uneven.
“Look at you…brilliant, dangerous. So fucking gorgeous that I nearly forgot my own name watching you play.” Her exhale trembles, and I catch her bottom lip between my teeth, until she moans.
“I wanted to clear that table, lay you out on it and fuck you right then and there.”
My hand slides down her thigh, gripping just above her knee, notching my growing erection against her center. She comes willingly, and fuck, it hits me, how fast she could undo every layer of control I’ve spent a lifetime building.
She drags her mouth along my jaw, nipping, and I feel my resolve crack right down the center.
I lift her thigh higher, hitching it around my hip. She gasps, lips parting, and I swallow the sound, my free hand sliding into her hair. Her body presses tight against mine and desire pulls me under like a rip current.
She places her hands on my jaw, turns us, and pulls me toward the bed.
I don’t let my mouth leave hers for long.
Just long enough to slide my hand beneath the hem of her silk top and drag it upward, knuckles grazing the warm curve of her waist. She lifts her arms without being told and I pull the fabric free, dropping it to the floor.
I step back, my gaze roaming over the lace covering her full, plush breasts. It’s a deep burgundy, delicate, meant to be admired.
“Jesus, Bella…” My voice shakes with reverence. “You wore this just to play cards? Dressed to kill to take men’s money?”
Her smile is teasing. “Worked on you, didn’t it?”
I hook a finger beneath one strap of her bra, tugging it down enough to bare one perfect breast, nipple peaked in anticipation. I lower my head and trace a lazy circle around her nipple before sucking it into my mouth, gently at first, then harder when her breath shatters and her back arches.
When I release her, the hardened bud is glossy, hard, begging for more. “Sit,” I tell her, nodding toward the edge of the bed.
She goes, and I follow, dropping to my knees between hers.
Her breath stops as I place my hands on her thighs, thumbs stroking slowly upward, close enough to her center that her hips tilt, seeking contact.
My fingers move up to brush the slim waist holster, and I pause, glancing up at her.
I can’t hide my grin as I unfasten the strap and ease the holster free, sliding the gun out, checking the safety.
I push to my feet and set both carefully on the nightstand beside the bed.
“And you carry. Fuck, that’s so hot,” I say, appreciating the sight of her gun.
She licks her bottom lip. “Why is that hot? I could end up killing you if you’re bad in bed.”
I laugh, unbuttoning my shirt to reveal my own weapon, the holster positioned at the base of my spine. I take it off and set it right next to hers.
“I don’t think I’m in any danger there, Neomi.”
Her head tilts back as she laughs. “Prove it.”
Accepting the challenge, I return to my knees between her legs, my hands moving to the button of her pants.
I look up. “May I?”
She nods and I slide the zipper down. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband and helps me lower them. I tug them off and discard them onto the chair beside the bed.
“Neomi,” I say, voice rough, “you’re going to keep your eyes on me. And if you ever need me to stop, tell me. Understood?”
She nods, then catches herself. “Yes.”
“Perfect.”
I slide my hands higher and hook my thumbs around the thin band of her thong and her hips lift as I drag the lace down her legs, lifting one leg, then the other, placing a kiss to her ankle before lowering her foot to the floor.
When I spread her knees, the scent of her hits me, heady and intoxicating, and I have to close my eyes for one second, just to keep control of my dick.
When I open my eyes, she’s looking down at me, eyes hooded.
“Pretty,” I murmur, brushing my thumb over her pussy. “So pretty, Bella. And all mine tonight.”
Her breath stutters at the use of the name. “Bella?”
I dip my head and take my time, dragging one languid lick along her slick heat. The sound that escapes me is soft and unguarded—a whimper. I don’t whimper at the first taste of a woman, but apparently, with her, I do.
I look up. “It means beautiful.”
Her head tilts. “Italian?”
I nod. “Yes.”
I slide my thumb inside her, once, then again, feeling how warm and wet she is before I lift my hand to her mouth.
“Open.”
She does instantly. I place my thumb on her tongue, and she sucks hard, hollowing her cheeks.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You’re hungry for it, aren’t you?”
She grips my wrist, guiding my hand back between her thighs. “I need you inside me, Lars. You can fuck me with your fingers, your tongue—I don’t fucking care how. Just make me come.”
“Say please, Bella.”
Her eyes turn dark and there’s a hint of defiance there until I swipe her clit with my thumb, still wet from her mouth.
“Please,” she submits in a whisper.
“Such a good girl using your words.” I lower my head and slowly trace the outline of her pussy with my tongue. When I finally circle her clit, her fingers thread into my hair, I tighten my grip on her thighs and glance up.
“Tilt your hips, Bella.”
She drops her hand, fingers curling in the sheets, eyes locked with mine as her hips move.
I go back to her, licking deeper, circling her clit with slow, ruthless attention until her thighs tremble. Sucking gently, then harder, she cries out. Then I slide one finger inside, hooking it, looking for the spot that will make her go wild. I know I’ve found it when her legs begin to shake.
“There she is,” I praise, voice low. “That’s it. Fuck my fingers, Neomi.”
Her head falls back, a broken sound tearing free as her hips push toward my mouth.
“Lars—” she shouts.
“I’ve got you,” I promise against her, adding a second finger, my pace firm and unrelenting now. “Come for me. Show me how beautiful you are when you’re consumed by pleasure.”
I pump her with my fingers, and fuck, she’s so wet, so hot that it makes my cock ache.
I press my other hand down above her clit, and her sounds become primal.
I pick up the pace of my fingers, the wet sound of her arousal filling the room.
She tightens around my fingers right before I feel her flood my hand.
I lift my mouth, fingers still moving frantically inside her, to watch as she squirts, her orgasm consuming every inch of her body.
“Oh, fuck!” she screams, looking down in disbelief.
I meet her eyes. “Bella, you just made an absolute mess.”