Page 67 of The Spice Play

There had been times over the last few months when I’d found myself desperate for her, chasing her in my dreams and finding her in every waking thought. But none of them came anywhere close to how much I longed for her at that exact moment.

Heat bloomed across her cheeks as she looked up at me, those fucking hands still holding me locked in place.So beautiful.“What? You look like you want to eat me alive,” she said, her voice low enough that I was sure it wouldn’t reach the bride and groom. Especially not over Morris’ nonsensical half-shouts about how it shouldn’t matter that the room was booked originally with a now-closed account.

“I think you’re mixing up my clear look ofneedfor you with my cannibalism face,” I joked. I pressed a kiss against her cheek, lingering just a moment longer than was necessary. “But I guess youcouldsay I want to eat you.”

Her breath caught on a giggle, and it took every ounce of the restraint I’d trained to keep myself from throwing her onto the counter of the check-in desk, lifting that goddamnpurple satin up to her hips, and having my feast right there in front of the two of them.

But considering I didn’t want to end up on the sex offenders list for public indecency and disorderly conduct, I forced myself to pull back and pass my card to the woman sitting next to the guy getting a lashing from Morris.

Clearing my throat, I dealt my final blow to the bride and groom for the evening. “The reservation should be under Blue.B-L-U-E. Penthouse suite.”

“Penthouse?” Nelly whispered, her hand tugging on my jacket. “A normal room would have been fine.”

“Is it so bad that I wanted to treat you?” I chuckled.

Her head flopped onto my shoulder. “So presumptuous.”

The woman behind the counter tapped away at her keyboard, checked my card, and within a minute she was handing it back to me with a classic hospitality smile and a set of keycards. “You’re all checked in. You’ll need to scan this in the elevator and it’ll send you straight to the top floor.”

Morris’ head whipped around toward me, his nostrils flaring, his face red with either anger or embarrassment, but it didn’t matter. I’d done my damage for her, and if she was content, then so was I.

Wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her into my side, I turned us away from them and started us toward the elevator at the other end of the lobby.

————

I was on her the moment the door clicked shut behind us.

I didn’t care about touring the penthouse, didn’t care to check how nice it was or ensure the linens had been folded or cross my T’s and dot my I’s. I only cared about touching her, kissing her,havingher, and I’d waited too fucking long to have a single drop of patience left in me.

The space between us had been far too wide for far too long. I closed it in an instant, pulling her back against my chest with my hand flat across her ribcage, relishing in the little gasp she let out. I kissed her ear, maneuvering her head with my nose and chin as I swept her hair across her back and over her shoulder. I kissed her cheek, kissed the space between her jaw and throat, kissed the soft spot beneath her earlobe that made her hiss.

But it wasn’t enough.

I slipped a hand between us, searching along her back for a zipper, but came up short. Doubling checking the front with the hand I held her with, I couldn’t find anything there either, and my desperation, myneedforced my hands lower along her body. I fisted the ripples of satin, pulling the heavy fabric up her legs.

“Can you not find the zipper?” Nelly half-breathed, half-laughed.

I huffed out a chuckle against her ear. “No.” I released the skirt but kept one hand in place, my palm flat against her upper thigh between the folds of the slit on her dress. “I suggest you help me find it before I start tearing this off you.”

“I spent far too much on this thing for you to ruin it,” she whined. Her hand came up beneath her left arm and tugged at a zipper so thin and so embedded into the fabric that I never would have found it on my own, releasing the two sides immediately.

“I would have bought you a new one,” I said. I pushed each of the little straps off her shoulders, my breath hitching as the dress slipped just an inch down, showing me she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it. I kissed down the back of her neck, along the top of her shoulders, holding her glued to me because I just couldn’t decide whether I had the strength to put enough space between us to let the dress fall. “Christ, I’ll buy you a thousand fancy dresses if you let me take them off you.”

An amused little huff crossed her lips before she turned her head to the side, her lips grazing my forehead while I took my time with her neck. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Biting back my reluctance to separate us, I gave us just an inch of space and let her dress fall to her hips. Blood pooled in my cock almost instantly when I grasped one of her breasts in my palm, and I almost regretted allowing her to ask whatever question she was thinking up — I wanted her mouth preoccupied with other things instead.

Her head leaned back, falling onto my chest and shoulder. “When I was… when I was in the bathroom earlier, with Ruby, she said something before she realized I was there. Ah!” She squeaked as I pinched her nipple gently between my thumb and forefinger, a silent request for her to speed up her question so we could carry on. “I… I don’t know, I might have misheard her. But she said you were ‘some billionaire’s son.’ And then there’s what Bryan said after that game…”

I paused, even my breath stilling against her skin. “What’s your question, Nelly?”

“Um,” she stalled, taking a shaky little breath and covering the hand I had flat against her stomach with her own. “Areyou?”

Squeezing her breast, I slipped the other hand lower, carrying her hand with it as I pushed the fabric that had pooled at her hips down further. It caught, but then it fell, dropping to the floor and leaving her in nothing but her lacy, black thong.God.“Would it change anything if I said yes?”

It wasn’t something I ever made a point of speaking about. If she’d done five seconds of Googling, she could have figured it out herself, and in truth, I was almost impressed that she hadn’t bothered looking me up at all. It almost felt impossible that she hadn’t, that it somehow wasn’t her motivating factor, but I had to remind myself that I’d had this before. I’d had someone who wanted to be withme, not my wallet.

Until she wanted neither of those things.

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