Chapter 2
Liam
The elevator doors slide shut, and I'm exactly where I want to be. Alone with the woman who's been driving me crazy for the last hour and a half.
She's standing perfectly composed, but her breathing has changed, and there’s a flush creeping up her neck.
I hit the button for my floor and turn to find her watching me with those bedroom eyes, but the confidence she had earlier has dissipated. Her hands are fidgeting with her purse strap. It’s the first sign of nerves I've seen all night
“Having second thoughts?” I ask, stepping closer.
“About what?” She asks, thrusting her chin higher.
“About breaking your rules for a stranger.”
She cocks her head to one side, a defiant expression on her face. “Who says I'm breaking any rules?”
Before I can answer, she closes the distance between us, her hand finding my chest. She hooks a finger into the collar of my shirt and tugs.
“Maybe,” she says, her fingers tracing along my shirt, “this is exactly what I planned all along.”
I don’t need a second invitation.
I crash my mouth against hers, and any thought of taking it slow evaporates. Her lips are just as soft as I imagined, but there’s nothing passive about the kiss.
Her tongue meets mine with equal fervor, her hands coming up to fist in my hair, pulling just hard enough to send a sharp, pleasant jolt of pain through my scalp.
I groan into her mouth, my hands sliding down her sides, settling on the curve of her hips. She arches into me, a desperate sound escaping her throat as I grind against her, the hard ridge of my erection pressing into her stomach.
The elevator dings.
We break apart, both of us breathing heavily. Her lipstick is smudged, and her pupils are blown wide. She looks thoroughly, beautifully ruined already. I grab her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, and pull her down the hallway.
I fumble with the key card, and Avery lets out a throaty laugh. “Eager, Nova?”
The sound of that name on her lips, now husky with desire, almost makes me drop the damn card. I finally get the green light and shove the door open. “You have no idea.” She only laughs as I drag her into the room behind me.
The suite is dark, and I don’t bother with the lights. The ambient glow is enough.
The door clicks shut, and the second we’re in private, the dynamic shifts again. The frantic energy from the elevator crystallizes into something more intense.
“Come here,” I say, my voice rough.
She pushes off the door and walks toward me with a sway in her hips. She stops just inches away, her eyes roaming over my face and down my chest.
“Take off your shirt,” she says.
It’s not a request. It’s an order. And fuck me, I’ve never been so instantly, completely hard in my life. I’m used to being the one in control, the one calling the shots.
Without breaking eye contact, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, letting it drop to the floor.
Her gaze sweeps over my chest and abs with appreciative eyes. “Nice,” she murmurs, but it sounds like a clinical observation. Then her eyes lock back on mine. “Now, tell me what you want to do to me.”
I blink. “What?”
“You heard me.” She takes a step closer, her finger tracing a line from my sternum to the waistband of my jeans. “All that talk downstairs about what I taste like. I want to hear it. Now. In detail.”
Holy shit. I’m a dirty talker. It’s part of the game. But this is next level. She wants the filth, the fantasy, spelled out before we even begin.
I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. “I want to lay you down on that bed,” I growl.
“I want to peel that little black dress off you, inch by inch. I want to find out if you’re as wet as I think you are.
And then I want to taste you. I want to make you come with my mouth until you forget your own name. ”
Her breath hitches. A shiver runs through her.“Good,” she whispers. “But you’re going to wait.”
“Wait?”
She pushes me back, just enough to create space, and turns around. “Unzip me.”
My fingers are clumsy as I find the small zipper at the back of her dress. I pull it down slowly, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her back and the delicate line of her spine.
The dress slips from her shoulders and pools at her feet. She steps out of it, standing before me in nothing but a pair of black lace panties and those deadly heels.
She turns back to face me, completely unselfconscious. Her body is a masterpiece. Lean and strong, with curves everywhere. But it’s the look in her eyes that undoes me. Pure, unadulterated hunger.
“You talk a good game, Nova,” she says, walking backward toward the bed, pulling me with her gaze. “Now let’s see if you can deliver.”
That’s the final spark. I close the distance between us, capturing her mouth in another searing kiss as we tumble onto the king-sized bed. The world narrows to the feel of her skin against mine, the scent of her arousal, and the sound of her sharp intake of breath as I roll on top of her.
I kiss my way down her neck, her collarbone, taking my time. I’m trying to be patient, to savor this, but Avery has other ideas.
Her hands are everywhere. In my hair, scraping down my back, gripping my ass. “Don’t be gentle,” she breathes into my ear, her voice a raw command. “I don’t break.”
Fuck. This woman.
Her full breasts are heavy in my hands, and I squeeze them together before lowering my head. I suck hard on her nipple, and the other breast jiggles in a tantalizing sway that makes my head spin.
I nip at the soft skin of her breast before taking the other nipple into my mouth, sucking hard.
Avery cries out, her back arching off the bed, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “Yes, just like that.”
I continue my path downward, kissing over her stomach, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her panties. I look up at her before tugging.
In the heated silence, I search her face for any flicker of doubt. It’s a precaution I’ve built into my life. As a guy with a public profile, my name is a target. I never assume. I always confirm. “Are you sure?”
“God, yes,” she breathes, pulling me back to her. She lifts her hips, allowing me to pull down her panties.
Then she’s completely bared to me, sprawled across the white sheets.
I part her gently with my fingers, and the sight makes my breath catch. Her pussy is a soft pink, gleaming in the low light, already swollen and ready.
She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
A throaty laugh pulls my gaze up to hers. Her eyes are sparkling with mischief, a smile playing on her lips. “Are you just going to stare at me all night?”
The sass in her tone sends a jolt straight through me. “I'm staring because I'm trying to decide how to worship every single, fucking perfect inch of you.” My eyes lock on hers. “And because you're so beautiful, it hurts to look away.”
I lower my head and swipe the flat of my tongue over her.
She’s salty, sweet, and perfect. A guttural moan tears from her throat as my tongue finds her clit. Her hips buck against my face, and her hands fist the sheets.
I hold her down and devour her. I learn what makes her gasp, what makes her whimper. I’m an athlete, used to pushing my body to its limits, and I bring that same focus and endurance to this. I’m relentless.
“Oh, God, right there,” she pants, her words starting to slur. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
Her begging fuels me. I slide a finger inside her, then another, curling them, finding a rhythm with my tongue. Her breathing becomes ragged, her thighs trembling against my head.
“I’m gonna come,” she says in a strained voice.
I double my efforts, and a moment later, she shatters. A sharp, broken cry echoes through the room as her body convulses under my mouth. I ride it out with her, not stopping until her muscles go slack and she collapses back onto the bed, boneless.
After a moment, Avery’s eyelids flutter open. She looks at me, dazed, a sated smile spreading across her face. “A man of action, not just words.”
I crawl up her body, kissing my way back to her mouth. “That was just the starter.”
“Not yet.” With a surprising burst of strength, she rolls us over, reversing our positions. “My turn.”
She straddles me, then leans down, her nipples brushing against my chest. “You’ve been such a good boy so far,” she purrs. “But the night is young.”
She makes quick work of my jeans and boxers, freeing my aching cock.
Her hand wraps around me, and I hiss at the contact.
She leans down, her breath ghosting over the tip of my cock.
She’s looking up at me through her lashes, her eyes dark with want and confidence.
A heady mix that has me bucking into her hand. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” I groan, as she kisses up my body.
She straddles my hips. “How badly?”
“Fucking desperately, Avery.” Her pussy is right there.
All I’d have to do is lift an inch, and I’d be deep inside her.
But I pause. “Hang on a sec.” She smiles wickedly, but I stop her with a gentle grip on her hips.
“Wait.” The word is a strained gasp, every instinct in my body fighting the delay.
Reaching over, I yank open the nightstand drawer, my fingers fumbling for a moment before closing around a small foil packet. I tear it open with my teeth, my eyes never leaving hers as I sheath myself. “I’ll all yours now.”
And then, she finally sinks down onto me in one slow, excruciatingly perfect motion.
We both groan in unison. She’s tight and hot and wet, and for a second, I can’t move, I can’t think. I can only feel.
She begins to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has me hissing.
“You feel so good inside me,” she moans, rolling her hips. “So deep. Is this what you wanted? To fuck the mysterious girl from the bar?”
“Fuck, yeah,” I choke out, my hands gripping her hips, guiding her.
My control unravels with every roll of her body, every breathy cry that falls from her lips. My fingers dig into her flesh, urging her on, driving her down to meet my thrusts.
The rhythm we create is a frantic, pounding, desperate beat that shakes the bed. Tension coils tight in her body, and her pussy flutters around my cock.
Her head falls back, a string of broken pleas falling from her lips. “Nova, I'm so close.”
A low groan rumbles in my chest. “Do it. Shatter for me, beautiful.”
Avery’s body seizes up, and a sharp, beautiful cry tears from her throat as she orgasms. She convulses around me, and I hold her hips firmly, driving into her through the waves of her climax, drawing it out until her cries soften into whimpers.
The sight of her completely lost in pleasure pushes me over the edge.
“Fuck, Avery.” My release crashes over me, my thrusts turning jerky and deep as I follow her into the abyss.
She collapses on top of me, her skin slick with sweat. For a long time, the only sound is our ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.
And that’s usually my cue. The moment the high fades, I’m already calculating the exit strategy. A polite kiss, a vague promise to call, the quiet relief of hearing the door click shut. Space is what I need. What I always need.
But right now, the Avery’s weight on me feels right. Her hair is a mess against my shoulder, smelling of sex and her shampoo. I should be feeling that restless need to be alone.
Instead, I’m mapping the curve of her spine with my hand, and my body is already thinking about round two. And three.
Fuck.
This is new. This is a problem. I don't do sleepovers. I don't do morning afters. But with Avery, the idea of her being gone in an hour feels all kinds of wrong.
I want to flip her over and fuck her into the mattress again right now, and then I want to fall asleep with her tangled up in these sheets.
It’s not romance. It’s possession. A hunger that hasn’t come close to being satisfied. I’ve never had sex like that, and I don’t want the source of it walking out my door. Tonight, the rules have changed.