Rock All Night(51)

“Wait – we have to get in the room,” I gasped as he nibbled my ear, then went back to kissing my neck.

He lifted me into the air. He pulled one of my thighs the way he wanted it, and I immediately got the message: I wrapped my legs around his waist. If we’d been naked, he could have f*cked me just like that, against the wall.

“We have to get in the room!” I whispered in his ear, and moaned as I felt his cock beneath his jeans pressing hard against my *.

In answer, he lurched down the hallway still carrying me, with my legs wrapped around his waist, a travelling display of indecent public affection. We probably would have looked either scandalous or comical as hell to bystanders, but when you’re in the middle of foreplay in a public place because it’s so goddamn hot that you just Can’t WAIT, then you don’t really give a rat’s ass about what imaginary lookee-loos would think.

“Find the room,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear as his fingers dug into my ass, travelled beneath the edge of my skirt, touched the line of my panties, and stroked the soaking wet skin beneath.

I scanned the walls, looking for the little plaques with Rooms 400-418 This Way –

“Oh my f*cking god,” I whispered as his finger slid inside me and caressed me from the inside.

I pointed the way with a suppressed moan, and Derek stumbled to our room down the hall, doing pornographic things to me all the way there.

Again he pressed me up against the wall, but this time he paused long enough to insert the card into the lock and open the door. Then we spilled inside the darkened room, slammed the door shut, and the frenzy began.

His hands were tearing at my clothes, I was feverishly trying to rip off his – his sunglasses clattered somewhere on the floor, my blouse was flying through the air – it was like a race to see who could get the other naked first –

And then I remembered back in Athens, and how slow, and long, and deliciously drawn out it had been.

“Wait,” I gasped, and put my hands on his as he tried to pull off my bra without unhooking it. “Wait.”

He groaned, but stopped. “Oh my God, PLEASE, Kaitlyn, don’t do this right now – ”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…”

I looked up at him in the darkness. The only light from the room was through the windows, but it was enough to see the outline of his face.

“…I want the night we should have had four years ago,” I whispered.

I could see the side of his face change, could tell from the way his cheek pulled up that he was smiling.

“Okay,” he whispered, and nodded. “Okay. But after that…”

His voice changed to a low, throaty growl.

“…I get to do whatever I want to you.”

The tone of his voice – the sheer, sexual desire in his words – took my breath away.

I was a little afraid.

But I nodded.

And then he leaned over and kissed me.





39




We slowed it down.

Waaaaaay down.

He kissed me softly, our lips verging on swollen from our frenzied passion before. Now every kiss had a salty little sting to it that added to the luxurious pleasure of his mouth against mine.

He slowly undid my bra behind my back – and, like four years ago, he didn’t let it fall off right away. He gently pushed the strap off my right shoulder, letting it drift and tickle my skin… and then he nudged the left strap until it slid down my arm. Then he kissed my lips… and my chin… then tilted my head up with his hands… and let his tongue dance softly, lightly down my throat, to the tiny hollow between my collar bones, to the upper swell of my breasts. He kissed me, his lips moving downwards, pressing the satin of my bra down, down, until I felt his mouth hot and damp on my swollen, erect, aching nipple, and he sucked.

I moaned, and a shiver ran down the entire length of my body.

My bra dropped down my arms, baring my chest completely to him.

His fingers glided along my back – rough hands, masculine against my softness – as he moved his mouth from one breast to the other, slight wetness tracing over my skin. He took the other nipple in his mouth and stroked it with his tongue, slicking me down, making me almost cry with desire as he sucked and licked and circled and nibbled it so lightly, mixing a tiny whisper of pain with pleasure as he pressed the swollen tip between his upper teeth and his lower lip.

I pushed him away. Even in the darkness I could tell he was confused – until I started tugging at the hem of his shirt. Then he complied and lifted his arms over his head, and I peeled the cloth slowly up over his skin.

I felt the ridges of his abs, and I had to stop just to press my palms against his body, feel the hard planes and valleys of the muscles beneath my hands. Jesus. He was in even better shape than four years ago. I let my hands move up under the shirt, and I felt his pecs, massive and firm; felt the soft tickle of his chest hair; found the tight hardness of his own nipples, and tweaked the tough, tiny nubs between my fingertips, rubbing them sensuously.

He grunted, and I felt his cock strain under his pants, pressing against my leg.

It reminded me that there were other things I wanted access to, and hurried me up a little bit.

I went back to pulling his shirt up, and he helped me get it over his head, then shrugged it off. The entire time, I felt my breasts slide softly against his belly and chest, my soft curves caressing his hard muscles, and I wanted more than anything to feel him inside of me, to feel his chest grazing my nipples as he moved in and out of me, his body sliding against mine.