The VIP Room(45)

I wasn’t prepared for how his kiss would make me feel. It felt like little bursts of fire erupted between us, burning brightly. My eyes closed, breathing in his scent, experiencing the warmth of his lips. They were firm and completely in control.

He’s a spider, I thought with my half-functioning brain. And I’m helplessly caught.

The ache between my thighs was becoming unbearable. I wanted him now, needed him with a ferocity that I hadn’t felt even with my previous boyfriends. The attraction I felt for him went beyond reason, but I didn’t want to question it. I wanted to give into it. I wanted this feeling to last forever, this sweet torment between passion and insanity.

The elevator dinged open but he didn’t break away. If anything, he pressed further into me and then hissed in pleasure when his erection brushed my stomach. We stumbled out and I lifted my head away to take in my surroundings, afraid I would fall since my knees were beginning to buckle. I expected to see a hallway, but to my surprise, the elevator led straight into his apartment. Although, apartment might not be the best word for it. It was the penthouse.

Who was this man?

Momentarily distracted, I scanned the space with wide eyes. Tristan took the opportunity to suck on my earlobe, his hot breath making me shiver even as I catalogued his place, a work habit. The living room alone had to be at least 2,000 square feet, I estimated, and it was done up in the modern style, all monochromatic colors with sleek furnishings. It was beautiful, from the no-nonsense black corner sofa that I knew cost upwards of five thousand dollars, to the simple art decor in varying shades of navy blue and greys. I wondered briefly which firm got the privilege of decorating this place.

Tristan’s hands ran up the exposed flesh of my thighs and I refocused my attention to him. “This is a really nice home,” I murmured, staring at his lips. His expression shifted just a tad, a slight down pulling of his lips. I was confused by his reaction, but he didn’t let me dwell on it.

“Thank you,” he said, his hands coming around my back, seeking the zipper so he could help shimmy me out of my dress. “Now, let’s get you out of this since it’s apparently not yours.” I started to smile at his teasing tone but he fused our lips together once again, denying me words.

As he suckled on my tongue, I felt cool air hit my warm, sensitive flesh. Briefly, I pulled away to help him peel back the tight, shimmery material and it hit the floor with a small whoosh. I shivered when his warm palms caressed the newly bared expanse of my stomach and waist. They were deliciously rough, masculine. I barely suppressed a mewing sound as he teased the edge of my panties with his thumbs, delving just under the lace before retreating. Teasing me beyond reason.

Tristan’s spicy scent hit me as I leaned forward to trace his jawline and neck with my lips, nibbling his skin even as his stubble scraped my own. He groaned lowly. I felt the sound vibrate through me and an answering gush of wetness surged between my thighs. Feminine pride swelled up in me. I wanted him to make those sounds all night long.

Grasping at the lapels of his grey suit, I tugged them back so he could shrug out of his jacket. After fumbling with the buttons of his crisp white shirt, I finally pushed the material off his strong body, where it pooled on the floor. My eyes immediately wandered over the planes of his magnificent chest, bronzed and sculpted. He had a six-pack and those ‘v’ muscles underneath his hip bones that drove me crazy. A light smattering of dark hair drew my eye and I followed its trail into the confines of his pants, my mouth watering at the thought of what lay underneath.

Even through the pleasant buzz of alcohol, I remembered that his suit probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.

“Maybe we should hang that up?” I murmured, my voice husky and unsure.

Tristan bit out a laugh, his dark green eyes looking like they were black with desire. “That’s the last thing on my mind right now, sweetheart.” He unsnapped my black lacy bra with a flick of his fingers. When my breasts sprang free to his greedy gaze, he immediately ducked his head and laved one nipple with his tongue.

I groaned, my head falling forward to rest on the tops of his strong shoulders. Pure pleasure rushed through me, making my toes tingle and my * throb with anxious desire. He plucked and played with my other nipple, driving me into a frenzy.

“Now,” I gasped out. I didn’t think I could take any more of his teasing. I’d never felt this need before, like I would die if he wasn’t inside me in the next few moments. I groped for his belt buckle, fumbling as the heat between my legs grew unbearable.

Tristan chuckled when he finally lifted his head from my breasts. His gaze raked down my body, his stare as tangible as a touch. He took in my flushed, rosy nipples, my black panties, and my sky high heels. When he was done looking his fill, he snagged my hand away from his pants, flashing me a grin that made my heart stutter.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he tsked.

My eyes narrowed at his teasing. Two could play at this game. I tugged my hand from his strong grip and reached down to stroke his hard length, which tented the front of his black slacks. His smile died immediately and I watched as his jaw clenched in pleasure. Thick and long, his erection had my knees shaking just imagining how it would feel inside me.

“Where’s the bedroom?” I asked, my tone on the cusp of pleading.

With a growl, he yanked my hand away and pushed me against the wall next to the elevator. “No, I want you here. Right now.” With that, Tristan spun me around so my backside faced him. I could only see him from my peripheral vision when I turned my face to the side, my hot cheek pressed against the coolness of the wall.