The Ruthless Gentleman(52)

“That’s the problem, Hayden.” She cupped my neck in her hand. “I want you too much. I’m risking everything.”

I grasped her wrist. I had no right to ask her to risk anything for me, but the selfish bastard in me couldn’t give her up. “I promise everything will be fine. No one will know.”

For a fleeting second, I wondered what would happen tomorrow. If she lost her job I could find her something else, something better, couldn’t I? But what if I still wanted her? How could one night with her ever be enough? But even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t give her anything else. It wasn’t how I led my life.

She pressed her hand against my chest. “Let’s go.”

Silently, we made our way to my room. With each step my body wound tighter and tighter and by the time I opened the door my heart was thundering in my chest and my muscles threatened to rip through my clothes.

I slid a hand around her waist and cupped her ass, pulling her toward me as I backed into the suite and shut the door. I exhaled at the click of the lock. Finally, for the first time ever, we were alone.

In private.

We’d spent time together in my office, but we were always only a few feet away from her colleagues. Even watching the fireworks, we’d been aware that Captain Moss wasn’t far away. Here, it was just us—Hayden and Avery. Not guest and stewardess. Right here, at this moment, time was suspended—nothing existed outside of this room.

I pushed her against the wall, resting my forehead to hers. I couldn’t rush this. I had to keep my lust from boiling over.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” she replied, placing her palms on my chest, her fingers sneaking between the buttons of my shirt.

I rolled my hips against hers. “I want you so badly. I’ve waited so long.”

“And now we’re here, in this room, the door’s locked and it’s like we’re stepping out of our reality.”

Her voice was breathy, and her eyes wide as if she was desperate for me to agree. She didn’t want to be wrong about her interpretation of things. She needed my reassurance and there was something about the fact I could do that, anything, for her instead of it always being the other way around that shot testosterone through my body and blood to my dick. That was how it should be.

“Yeah. Nothing else exists. Just me and you. Here and now.”

She sighed in response.

I pulled her hand from my shirt as she popped open a button. “You first,” I said and walked her backward toward the bed. “This needs to come off.” I pulled up her shirt, focusing on the skim of my fingers across her ribcage, and tossed it behind me before sinking my teeth into the top of her breasts. I groaned. I’d fantasized about this and now here I was, and the feel of her was even better than I had imagined. I delved my tongue down her cleavage, wanting to go deeper, further, take more. I trailed my tongue up to the dip between her collarbones. She gasped and arched against me as if she wanted me as much as I wanted her, as if that were possible.

I pulled at her skirt. “And this. It needs to come off.” I slid it down, pressing my lips to hers, worried if I pulled my mouth from her body, somehow I’d never be allowed back.

I stepped away to take her in. She looked like a fucking goddess in just her pale blue underwear.

I nodded slowly in approval. “I’m going to taste you,” I whispered into her ear, sliding my fingers over her lace-covered pussy, my other hand on her ass, keeping her in place. I dropped a kiss on her lips then sank to my knees.

Her wetness was already soaking through the material of her knickers and I gritted my teeth, wondering if I could hold back from fucking her until I made her come for the first time.

I scraped my thumb along the seam of the lace and pushed my fingers underneath, as she threaded her fingers into my hair. Her slick juices coated my fingers and I wondered how long she’d been worked up like this. Since I’d locked the door? Since holding my hand at dinner? Since I’d touched her at the theater?

I grunted at the thought of her wet for me all day, shoved the lace to one side and buried my face in her hot pussy as if I’d find the answer there. She was sweet and wet and her small gasps sent electric currents right to my cock. I tried to ignore everything but the smell of her, and the way her pussy felt like home. I pulled at the lace, dragging it down so I could get more of her. I circled her clitoris and traced my tongue down to her entrance and back up. Her right knee buckled, and I grinned against her wet skin.

“You lose your balance?” I tipped my head back and she grinned sleepily down at me, drugged by my touch.

I slid my fingers up the back of her thighs to the juncture of her perfect arse and around to her hips. “Lie back on the bed.”

She frowned. “I want your mouth on me.”

I chuckled. “I’m not going to deprive you, but I don’t want you to fall.”

She stepped back, hit the bed and lay down, spreading her legs, revealing her pussy in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She was fucking perfect.

I hooked my arms under her thighs, greedy for more, desperate to make sure she couldn’t move away from me when she came. I wanted to feel every jolt, every spasm I created.

I worked my tongue through her folds, her hips restlessly shifting under me as she alternated between squirming and thrusting. The pleasure I was able to give her inflated my chest and tightened my balls.