Page 7 of Thorns of Desire
I liked her spirit. A lot.
My driver, who I messaged while we were in the bar, was waiting for us outside.
Athena faltered at my side, and I pulled my hand away from her back, not wanting to make assumptions. Disappointment hit me hard, because I hadn’t stopped thinking about peeling that dress off from the moment I saw her.
“Changed your mind?”
She took a deep breath before facing me.
“I haven’t, but…” She jutted her chin in the direction of my waiting car. “Car sex isn’t a problem, but the streets are still busy, so I think we’ll have a hard time finding somewhere private. Besides, your driver might get horny, and I’m really not into threesomes or voyeurism.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I’d had my share of women, but none of them had ever managed to throw me so off-kilter. I needed her like nothing else.
“Don’t worry,” I said, my voice low and firm. “This isn’t a high school prom, and I’m definitely not taking you in the back seat of a car.” I ushered her forward where my driver stood holding the door open. She slid into the back, looking up at me as I followed her in. “Thank you, Giuseppe. Take us to La Réserve.”
As Giuseppe pulled the car into traffic, my gaze lingered on Athena. So many images tumbled through my mind—spread out over my sheets as I ate her out, her face buried in the pillow as I took her from behind, holding a fist in her hair while she screamed in pleasure.
Her green eyes darted to me, cheeks flushed, and she licked her lips. Just like that, my dick twitched.
“La Réserve as in the hotel?”
I nodded. “Unless you’d rather we pick a different place.”
She took her bottom lip between her lips. “Well, I think they’re pretty exclusive. They might not…” She trailed off, her brow wrinkling. “I don’t think they accommodate hookups.” Her eyes glinted with a mixture of mischief and lust as she focused on my lips. “And I really, really need to get laid tonight.”
I wiped a hand over my mouth and grinned. Her honesty was refreshing.
“Considering it’s mine, I’m sure they’ll find a way to make an exception.” I brushed her hair off her shoulders. “Don’t worry,amorina. I’ll be buried so deep inside your clenched pussy, you’re going to come harder than you ever have, all over my cock.” I brushed my knuckles over her burning cheeks. “You’ll get, as you Americans like to say,laid.”
She squirmed on the leather seat, squeezing her thighs together, and I officially went from half-hard to fully erect.
The car came to a stop and the door opened. I climbed out and extended my hand to help her. She took it, smoothing her dress with her free hand, then flicked me a glance, giving me a smile that made my blood heat.
“Good. I love a sure thing.”
Cristo.
I loved her sass, but I would love filling her mouth even more.
I guided her toward the hotel entrance, trying to see it through Athena’s eyes and hoping it met her expectations. The hotel building with a Baroque-style façade adorned with sculptures and balustrades was the attraction for many visitors, but few could afford it.
Her heels clicked against the marble lobby, and I sensed discreet glances thrown our way. I guided her to the elevator, swiped my key card, and pressed the button for the top floor.
Her brow arched. “Penthouse suite?”
My lips curved up. “Only the best for you.”
“Would this be a good time to ask you what you do?”
There was no way I’d tell her about my dealings with the mafia, so I settled for something a little more vague. “This and that. You?”
She laughed. “This and that also, but apparently I’m not doing it as well as you.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open as we reached the top floor. I stood back, letting her walk through first, and watched as her eyes widened. It was an everyday sight for me, but even I couldn’t deny the beauty of this centuries-old establishment. High ceilings, a crystal chandelier hanging over the private dining room table, marble floors and plush leather armchairs facing a crackling fireplace. It was all state of the art, restored with painstaking attention to detail by some of the country’s most famed architects and interior designers.
But nothing came close to the unobstructed view of the Paris skyline, the Seine River snaking beneath the Pont Alexandre III and giving way to some of the city’s best boulangeries and department stores.
Until tonight.
