Love Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2)(66)

“Meet you at the elevator?”

Dominic nodded, his dark gaze gobbling up her hips and breasts. She couldn’t tear her attention off of him, no matter how loudly her brain commanded her to go get the key. So when someone pressed her purse into her hand, smacked her on the butt, and said, “Get out of here, you’re making everyone jealous,” she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Bethany,” she called over the music. “I owe you.”

The blonde turned and saluted her, then waded into the fray surrounding the bar. Before Rosie could fully turn back around, Dominic had her tucked into his side, guiding her toward the elevator with long strides.

Rosie’s pulse was on a roller-coaster ride, except it was stuck in the upside-down portion, sending her on continual, gravity-defying loops. The man breathing on the back of her neck as she unlocked the hotel room door was her husband. She shouldn’t feel like a virgin about to lose it on prom night, but she did. Oh Lord, she did.

Dominic’s hands gripped the doorframe on either side of her as she fumbled the card, trying to see the instructional arrows in the muted interior of the hallway.

“Don’t they believe in lights at this hotel?” Rosie murmured choppily.

Her husband plucked the card out of her hand, shoved it in the slot, and yanked it out. And her vagina reacted as if he’d just thrust in and out of her, contracting and growing damper by the second. They’d boarded a packed elevator; otherwise, she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have made it to the room without consummating the evening. The way he looked at her on the way down had had her knees shaking. They still shook, her belly hollowing when the green light flashed on the card reader, and Dominic shoved open the door.

Even in her state of hormonal upheaval, the luxuriousness of the room made Rosie catch her breath. “Oh, wow.”

It was large, even by New York City standards. A king-sized bed with a fluffy white comforter took up the entire left side of the room, and a pair of silk pajamas were folded on the chrome side table, courtesy of Bethany. There was a flat screen and a modern fireplace on the right. Straight ahead was a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked downtown Manhattan, buildings looming close and far, like a 3-D painting.

Dominic’s hand closed firmly around the nape of Rosie’s neck, and she dropped her purse, whimpering into the silence of the room. The zipper of her dress came down and the heavy, sequined material dropped, pooling at her feet, leaving her in a black thong, a matching strapless bra, and a pair of five-inch gold heels. The air didn’t move a whisper. Nothing moved for several moments as she stood there, shivering as her husband’s eyes roamed over her body.

This. This was why keeping their hands off each other was practically impossible. Rosie craved the act of being overwhelmed by his strength. Dominic needed to quench Rosie’s thirst and claim her in the process. Their passion, at least, was the perfect partnership.

One afternoon during their senior year of high school would forever be etched on her memory. Alone in Dominic’s house while his parents were visiting his aunt in the Bronx. She’d been struggling with an odd impulse for weeks, and he’d coaxed it out of her with long, drugging kisses on his couch that led to hands stroking inside each other’s pants, moans filling the air. With her face hidden in Dominic’s neck, she’d quietly asked him to pin her wrists over her head—and he’d gone almost limp with relief, before obliging. The rigid fly of his jeans had dragged over her clit and she’d orgasmed on the spot.

Now Dominic’s palm drifted from her nape, traveling slowly down her spine and over the swell of her bottom. His finger tucked into the low waistband and peeled the panties inch by painstaking inch down her thighs. Her bra came off next, snapped free in the back, tumbling to the floor forgotten. Rosie struggled to fill her lungs, her aroused nipples rising and falling on harsh breaths.

“Please,” she whispered.

Dominic swept her up in his arms and strode across the room. She frowned when they bypassed the bed, but excitement coursed through her veins when Dominic set her down on the modern circular table arranged in front of the huge window. Her naked back to the city, Rosie shook with anticipation. What was coming? What was he going to do with her?

Dominic came into view, his mouth ghosting over hers. He touched his tongue to hers lightly, teasingly, then eased back to strip off his shirt, tossing it aside. Filter obliterated, Rosie could only hum in appreciation of his ripped physique, the city lights illuminating every valley, sinew, and riot of ink. Her hips moved restlessly on the table as he undid his belt and the fly of his pants, taking out his huge erection in a clenched fist. Rosie sobbed at the sight of it.

His tongue licked along the seam of her lips. “This would have convinced you without words to bring me back to your room, isn’t that right?”

Rosie squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

“Rubbing your pussy all over it in public. You must want it pretty goddamn bad.”

The table grew slippery beneath her and she tried to move her thighs together to hide the evidence of how needy she was, but Dominic blocked her with his hips.

“You have no idea how bad I want to cram you full of this cock. I’m fucking starving for my wi—for you.”

“Yes,” Rosie whimpered, sliding her legs apart. “Please—”

“Oh no. Not yet.” Her back landed firmly on the table, Dominic’s hand on the center of her chest. “The city is going to watch me eat my fill.”