Pleasure Payback

I offered him another smile. One that slowly disappeared as he pushed his boxers down his muscular thighs and kicked them away.

Sweet heaven.

He was thick and long enough to elicit a momentary pang of alarm. But need eroded alarm, leaving behind savage hunger.

The back of his hand traced my cheek in a jerky caress before he recaptured my nape. With one hand braced on the wall, he slid his length between my lips.

Eagerly I welcomed him, wrapping my lips around his bell-shaped head before gliding my tongue over his slit. His salty, heady essence exploded on my tongue, dragged a whimper from deep inside. One taste and I wanted more. When his hips drew back I chased after him, greedily meeting his thrust.

We both groaned when he hit the back of my throat.

I glanced up his spectacular body, our gazes clashing as I sucked him deep. His nostrils flared wide, then, unable to resist giving me what I wanted, Damian began to fuck my face. With every penetration I took him deeper, wanting as much as he was willing to give.

‘God. You’re bloody spectacular,’ he growled.

The sexy, guttural voice made me wetter. I sank my middle finger deep, feverishly imagining him filling me up until I was stretched tight, until there was nothing but him.

His fingers tightened on my nape and with a harsh groan, Damian exploded in my mouth. The force of his climax spiked my lust and I rode the wild, frenzied wave.

Lost in mindless pleasure, I barely noticed him move away, grasp my arms and lower me to the carpet. But I felt the heat of his body when he covered mine with his, when he brushed his fingers over my mouth and caught my gaze.

‘Christ, did you just come sucking me off?’ he demanded hoarsely.

‘Hmm,’ I murmured, my hips still riding the tail end of my climax.

He leaned closer, brushed his lips over mine before trailing kisses over my jaw and neck. ‘Holy shit, I don’t think I’ve seen anything sexier,’ he rasped in my ear. My shiver drew a laugh from him. ‘I hope you’re not overly sensitive. Because I don’t think I can wait to fuck you.’

He reached for his trousers, pulled out a condom and tugged it on. ‘On your knees,’ he growled.

I rolled over and surged up onto my hands and knees, dragged my hair over one shoulder so I could watch him position himself behind me. ‘Hurry.’

A smile twisted his mouth as his eyes met mine. ‘Is that gorgeous pussy hot for me?’

‘Yes. I need you.’

The smile dropped from his mouth, followed by his gaze a second later. The inkling that I’d just committed a faux pas rushed out of my head the instant Damian surged hard and deep inside me.

I screamed, my fingers digging into the carpet as searing pleasure shot up my spine. Firm, almost cruel hands dug into my waist and held me still as he withdrew and plunged deep inside again. As anticipated, Damian was thick enough to fill me almost to the point of pain despite my slickness. That added bite dragged another scream from me as he slammed in from behind, setting a pace that made my back arch in bliss.

‘God, yes! Just like that,’ I moaned.

One hand moulded my butt, trailed up my spine to rest between my shoulders. He pushed my torso down to the carpet, and I screamed all over again as the angle seated his cock deeper inside me. Pure instinct had me dragging my legs wider apart, and with one last thrust, I started to unravel.

Clever fingers tormented my clit as the first wave hit me, prolonging my release until my body was trapped in relentless convulsions. Just when I thought I’d crawl out of my own skin with the savagery of my climax, Damian roared with his own release, then stilled inside me.

We collapsed onto the carpet, for the longest time saying nothing as we caught our breaths.

Then a smile I couldn’t stop creased my face.

‘I knew I liked your hotel.’

He chuckled, a deep but rough sound. As if he hadn’t laughed for a while. From our curious exchange tonight, I guessed he probably hadn’t. ‘Just like?’

‘Fine, I really like it.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Which part do you like the most?’

‘I have to choose?’

He wrapped a hand around my waist. ‘Let’s start with this room.’

‘Everything. The lamps. The view. The bed.’

‘Hmm. We haven’t made it to the bed yet. What especially do you like about it?’

‘It’s sturdy. It could pass for an antique even though I know it’s not. It gives the guest a feeling like they’re sleeping in a bed fit for a king or queen. Or a naughty courtesan sneaking in for a tryst.’

He stiffened slightly. ‘Is that what turns you on, Neve? Illicit assignations with strangers you meet in bars?’

My breath caught on a dart of hurt. ‘If you’re trying to be offensive, don’t waste your time. I’ve never done anything like this before but I don’t regret it.’

I read his scepticism loud and clear. Told myself I didn’t care.

I knew my truth but couldn’t help adding, ‘There’s nothing wrong with that if all parties are free and consenting adults.’

He inhaled slowly, his gaze turning turbulent. I sensed his withdrawal even though his arm tightened around me. ‘And what would you have me do in this tryst of yours?’

I draped my arms around his neck. ‘I’d like to move to the bed, test my theory for real.’

‘As you wish.’ His concession held a definite bite.

Perhaps I should’ve called a halt to things then. But Damian Mortimer was kissing me as he carried me across the floor. Potent kisses I wanted to enjoy just for a few more hours. We were consenting adults after all.

So why fight it?

Damian

I tried.

Fought to resist her.

When I couldn’t, I wanted to punish her for reminding me of everything I wanted to forget. For tempting me enough to break the rigid rules I’d ring-fenced my life with for twelve long months. Most of all, I wanted to punish her for unwittingly re-enacting that sordid little scene downstairs.

The one that reminded me of the worst moment of my life.

That reminded me of why I was here on the wrong side of the pond when I yearned to be back in London, in the place I thrived and loved the most.

The part of me that knew it was irrational to take things out on this woman whose brazenness shouldn’t have been a turn-on—and yet had touched parts of me I’d thought were withered and dead—winced. But hell, I was drowning beneath the bitterness and vitriol festering inside me.