Page 8 of A Forbidden Arrangement
The second the doors close, he turns on me, hands pressed into the paneling on either side of my head. The tendons running along his neck are pulled taut, and a muscle ticks in his jaw with the effort to hold himself back. This is a man who can take whatever he wants, who knows he could kiss me into oblivion, and there’s no way I’d stop him. Still, his eyes scan mine, waiting.
He makes me feel powerful in a way I never have, and a thrill runs along my spine as I sink into it. At least for tonight, this man is mine.
I clutch his shirt, the fine fabric filling my palms as I drag him closer. It’s all the invitation he needs.
My back hits the wall as his mouth finds mine like he’s been starving for it. His hands are everywhere. Big, warm, sure. Sliding over my hips, up my sides, into my hair, the elastic long gone. I’m gasping between kisses, heat pooling low and sharp, my body already leaning into his, searching. Bradley has never made me feel anything like this.
At the thought of him, some part of me whispers that I should feel ashamed. That I’m moving too fast. That I don’t even know this man, but I can’t care. Not with the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only woman in the world. Not with the way his fingers tremble just a little when they run down my side, like even he can’t hold back.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open directly into a penthouse suite. My mouth drops open as I take it all in. The space is huge, sleek lines and rich textures, like something out of a movie, all polished marble and soft lighting. It even smells expensive.
For a second, my brain tries to catch up, tries to remind me where I am, who I’m with, what I’m about to do. The thought barely forms before he’s on me again, his mouth crushing minewhile he lifts me, my skirt bunching around my hips when I wrap my legs around his waist.
The desperate need for pressure has me rolling my hips. The hard length of his cock hitting my clit draws out a loud moan. He stiffens, his hold tightening, so I do it again.
His growl rumbles through me, the only warning I have before his control snaps, and his grip on my ass is almost painful as he takes over the movement, dragging me over him again and again. All I can do is hold on, feeling the tremor run through him when I grip his hair hard enough to hurt.
His teeth graze my jaw, a gentle warning nip. “If you keep that up, I won’t be able to hold myself back, and I have so many things I want to do with you.”
As much as I want to lose myself in the way his cock is rubbing me in all the right places, I want what he promised even more.
I force myself to relax, going limp in his arms, trusting him to take my weight, and look at him through my lashes, waiting, eager.
His growl is primal as it rumbles through my chest. His mouth never leaves mine as he maneuvers us through the hotel room. In the back of my brain, I process just how long it takes us, noticing the size of the suite, but the thought is cut off as I’m tossed onto the bed, his weight following closely until I sink into the mattress.
I buck up into him, but he bites my lower lip just shy of being painful and shakes his head. His expression tells me if I want what he promised, I have to behave. So I fight against the need coursing through me, begging me to keep moving, and clutch the bedding on each side to hold myself in place.
I’m rewarded as his hands slide up my thighs, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He leans back, eyes darkening, and that’s when I notice our position. I’m fully spread for him,my calves on either side of his quads as he kneels, leaving me completely exposed. Embarrassment floods through me, and I reach down to cover myself, but he catches my wrist before I can, pinning it to the bed.
Confusion clouds his eyes as he tries to read me before understanding sets in. His gaze doesn’t leave mine as his free hand catches the corner of my panties and snaps it with ease. I squirm as he peels the damp fabric off. Mortification sets in as I can feel how wet it is.
“Whoever made you embarrassed about your perfect pussy is a dead man.”
He runs his thumb through my slit, lifting it to his mouth and sucking the wetness off with a low hum in the back of his throat. “Don’t hide from me.”
I’m completely bare in front of him, my skirt all the way up to my waist, but this time, the way he’s looking at me like he’s starving creates a warmth stirring inside me.
He unbuttons his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders, and my breath catches in my throat. The audacity of this man to look that good. Large, firm pecs, lines cut deep between abs, leading down toward the trail of hair that disappears beneath his pants. My nails dig painfully into my palms as I stop myself from reaching out.
He grasps my wrist, pressing my hand into his firm stomach and dragging it down along his hot skin.
“I told you to take what you want.” His voice is a low rumble edged with command.
It’s all I needed to hear. I lift both hands to him, running along the hills and valleys of his muscles, over the smooth, burning skin pulled taut. I swallow hard, practically drooling, as I explore every inch of him. His look should be smug, but it’s more than that. Anyone else would be cocky at the way I’mreacting, but he’s watching me, tongue running along his bottom lip, enjoying every second.
His fingers hook into the hem of my shirt, and it’s gone in a single, fluid motion before hitting the floor. My bra’s next, the sudden cool air a sharp contrast to the heat rolling off him.
His mouth claims me without hesitation. Lips close over one nipple, sucking deep, drawing it against his tongue until I gasp. His hand is already on my other breast, kneading it and exploring like he’s testing the fit of me in his palm.
Then he switches. The one he was sucking is now cupped and squeezed, the other caught between his lips. He alternates without mercy, licking slow, sucking hard, and every so often grazing me with his teeth.
A helpless sound slips from me before I can swallow it down.
He’s barely touched me, and my whole body is already shaking. My thighs tremble where they press against him, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Every pull of his mouth makes my stomach tighten and my toes curl.
He told me he was good at this. I’d believed him in a vague, cocky-man kind of way, but nothing could have prepared me for how good this feels.
It’s overwhelming, the way he seems to know exactly what I need before I do. I don’t know if I can handle all of it, but I don’t want him to stop. My hands fist in the bedding, needing something to hold on to while he unravels me.
