Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(25)

I loosened my tie and shrugged off my jacket. My impatience grew as I circled her waist with my hands and pulled up her top. Her breasts were pushed up and out, the sight making me dizzy.

She swept her hands across her taut stomach and pressed her fingers against her lace-covered pubic mound as if she were trying to reassure her body. I groaned.

“That sweet * is mine to touch. I’ve warned you about that.” I batted her hand away, pushed my fingers into the lace and yanked her panties off.

“Dylan,” she sighed. The sound of my name on her lips washed over me like music.

“I need to see you.” I stared at her * and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.

I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath. She was magnificent and so beautiful I couldn’t look at her for too long. I opened my eyes and she was looking back at me. “You are perfect,” I said.

A shiver of hurt crossed her face. “I’m anything but.”

I wanted to erase that darkness in her, scoop it out and swallow it down so she didn’t have to endure it. I cupped her chin and dropped my lips to hers. “To me. You’re perfect, to me.”

Something about her naked body calmed me and dampened down the urgency that had threated to send me over the edge since I’d laid eyes on her in the lobby. Now she was here in front of me, locked in to a bubble where the outside world wouldn’t interfere.

A knock sounded on the door. “Fuck.”

Beth gasped. “It’s room service.”

“Don’t move. I’ll collect it, and he won’t be able to see you.”

She wrapped her arms around my breasts.

“You know I don’t like it when you cover yourself.” I pulled her hands away.

She tried to turn away from me. “Beth.” My voice was even. “I want you to stand here, like this, ready for me. Trust me. I’m not going to let the room service guy in to see you.”

We stood silently face-to-face for a couple of long seconds while she decided. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t playing games, that she could trust me.

She dropped her hands, giving me what I needed. Her—naked and exposed.

I walked backward toward the door so I didn’t miss a moment of her naked body.

“Go get my cake, you pervert, then I want my orgasm.”

I chuckled. “You greedy girl.” I turned into the corridor to answer the door.

I gave the waiter a generous tip and pulled the trolley of cake inside, assuring him that I didn’t need any assistance. The delicious Beth Harrison, naked apart from her peep-toe shoes, was for my eyes only.

I swept my hands across the trolley. “Your cake.”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “I want the mousse first.”

Anything she wanted was hers.





Beth

Dylan demanded, no commanded, my trust. Although my instinct was to shut down and close myself off, he was able to pinpoint my anxiety, name it and erase it.

How did he do that? When even I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, what my reticence was, he knew. And that was liberating.

I’d never felt that before. Never fully trusted the man I was with, which always left me edgy, needy, wanting to please, wanting to do something to make it right—it was a constant reminder I wasn’t enough. Dylan left no room for me to doubt him, or myself.

He was straining against the fabric of his trousers, and I planned to have a little fun with him. He passed me a glass filled with chocolate mousse and grabbed my ass. I picked out the tuile and popped it in my mouth, then dipped my index finger into the dessert and offered it to him. He grabbed my wrist and greedily took my finger in his mouth and sucked.

He knew me, but he still wanted me. It was an intoxicating combination, one I was unable to resist.

I could trust him. And he wouldn’t break my heart, because I wouldn’t let him. This was all about my vagina; it had nothing to do with my heart.

This was going to be fun.

Twisting my wrist free, I plunged my finger into the glass and coated my lips with the fluffy chocolate. I poked my tongue out and began to lick my lips clean.

The heat in his eyes was impossible to ignore. The promise they held making my feet unsteady. He pulled me toward his hard body and licked me clean.

I liked this game.

I pushed him away before he deepened our kiss and I lost all control. “Stay there,” I said. He went to grab my ass, but I twisted away and stepped back so my ass was against the dining table—I wanted him to have a clear view of what I was going to do next. “Be patient.” I scooped a little of the mousse out of the glass and dabbed a spot under each ear, then drew a chocolate line along my collarbone.

Dylan moaned and pressed his palm against his erection. “You’re killing me.”

I brought my hand down my body, then gently circled my nipples. The cold mousse felt delicious, but not as good as I knew his tongue and teeth would feel.

Dylan’s patience ran out. He grabbed the glass out of my hand and slid it along the table. “We’ll need more of that later.” His voice was deep and thick. I shivered, knowing what came next.

He cupped my breasts in his hands and blew across them. I moaned and went slick between my thighs.

Just his breath got me wet.

He bent forward and licked me in one strong stroke across my lips, then buried his head in my neck, sucking at the skin beneath my ear. I tipped my head back, and thrust my hands into his hair, urging him on. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so desired by a man.