Page 9 of The One Who Won’t Get Away
Chapter 5
Nadya
THREE OTHER PEOPLElingered in the hotel lobby when we came in.They glanced at us, then immediately looked away like they could smell the pheromones.I punched the up button on the elevator while Nick hovered behind me, close enough that I could feel his heat through my jacket.
The elevator doors glided open, and we stepped inside.Fortunately for us, or for anyone who might’ve shared this ride with us, we were alone because the moment the doors closed behind us, I grabbed Nick by his jacket and pulled him down for a kiss.
He growled and pinned me to the wall.The entire length of him pressed flush against me.It wasn’t the careful dance from earlier today; this was two people who had already fucked once and agreed that restraint was for the weak.He leaned in and bit my ear, hands sliding up under my shirt to find bare skin.
The elevator climbed.Nick’s left hand pressed on my ribs, thumb brushing the curve under my breast, and his right was already unzipping my jeans.
Ding.
Ugh.
He broke the kiss, both of us panting, then he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway.We barely made it to his room when his mouth found mine again.My hand snaked into his back pocket to squeeze his ass—because why the hell not?He fumbled the keycard, cursed under his breath, and then we were in the hotel room, door clicking shut behind us.
“Take it off,” I ordered, tugging at his jacket and shirt.
He complied, but there was nothing submissive about him.He grabbed my jaw and kissed me again, deep, then pulled the sweater over my head.
I was usually the one in control.If I wanted to sleep with a guy, I decided when, where, and how.If it got weird, I bailed.I never thought I’d like this—being handled, stripped, pressed against a wall like it was the only thing keeping me upright.But Nick’s hands were reverent, and when he shoved my pants down, he knelt to help me step out of them.
He kissed my knee, then the inside of my thigh, and my stomach did a backflip.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the dresser: hair wild, lips bruised, eyes glazed and hungry.No ghosts lingering behind my lids.It was a good look on me.
He tugged down my lacy underwear, slow enough to drive me insane, then cupped my ass in both hands.I expected him to fuck me against the wall.Part of me wanted him to.
Instead, Nick picked me up and deposited me on the dresser, its polished wood surface cold against the backs of my thighs.He looked me in the eye as he spread my knees, nothing but steaming hot intention on his face.He bent forward and pressed his lips to yet another circular scar, the one on my thigh.Then his mouth made a slow, appreciative journey upward, and I lost the ability to think.
His hands pushed my knees wider.The first brush of his tongue—a careful, exploratory sweep—lit me up from the tailbone to scalp.He inhaled me like he’d been starved for days, and this was his first real meal.I gripped the edge of the dresser, not because I was some delicate flower in danger of falling, but because the contact steadied the part of me that wanted to float right out of the room.
He worked slow, sucking, licking, until I was grinding against his face, and only then did he draw his tongue up, the pressure perfect and deliberate.He read me better than I wanted to admit, pulling away just to see if I’d chase him—yeah, I did.I was practically whimpering now, and he rewarded me by flattening his tongue and working harder.The noise I made didn’t sound like it belonged to me.
“Oh fuck,” I said, louder than I meant to.I grabbed his hair—not to guide him but because it was the only thing anchoring me to the earth.
Nick looked up, eyes hooded, lips shiny.“God, you’re so fucking hot like this.You want to come on my face?”
“Is that even a question?”I asked.
He chuckled, then redoubled his efforts.I dug my nails into his scalp, ground against him, and let the sensations pile up until there was nothing left but need.
The climax was less like fireworks and more like a blackout—one second I was in this room, sitting on the dresser with the mini-fridge humming in the background and the next, everything synapsed to blinding white pleasure that erased the hotel room and even time itself.I might have screamed.If I did, I’d blame Nick, whose mouth stayed locked on me through the aftershocks until I shoved at his forehead, laughing.
He kissed my ribs, scattered little pecks up my naked torso, then groaned dramatically as he stood.I tried to sit up, but my abs rebelled.Instead, I let him pick me up and set me gently on the bed.My legs were jelly.When I caught his expression—soft, hungry, amazed—I had to look away before it got too personal.
“You’re unreal,” he said, voice hoarse.
I covered my red face with a pillow.Immediately regretted it.Too much vulnerability in the dark.I peeked out.“Do you say that to all the women you bring back from a bar?”
“I don’t go to bars often.”
“Liar.”But I believed him.
He stripped off his own pants, tossed them on a chair, then kneeled on the mattress next to me, naked and hard and so hot it was comical.“You want me to—?”
“Don’t you dare ask,” I told him, digging in my purse for another condom.“Just get over here.”
