Page 33 of Seven Days

“If you would have returned one of my calls or texts, I could have given you instructions.” He pulls me into his arms and holds me, sniffing my hair. “Where’s your bag?”

“I don’t have one. I left your house and went straight to LAX. I bought a few pairs of new underwear, but I’ve been borrowing Sara’s clothes the whole time I’ve been here.”

“You flew commercial with a fresh head injury?” he growls, clearly upset with my decision making.

I’m about to launch into my reasoning for why I left the way I did, but now that he’s here, in front of me, looking sexy as sin I need him alone. Now.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk privately.”

“Yeah, I’ve got work to do,” Sara calls from her bedroom. “I don’t want to listen to this.”

I grab his hand, leading him out the apartment and down the narrow set of stairs to the lobby. Her building has an elevator, but it’s old and scares me. I’m about to order an Uber when Thomas pulls me to the corner and into the backseat of a black town car. Because, of course, he has a driver on standby.

He tells the driver to take us to the Intercontinental and then reaches for me. With one tug on my thigh he has us pressed together tightly in the backseat.

“You sure do like to run, you know that?” he whispers into my ear. “I’ve spent the past four days alternating between worried sick and plotting all the ways I’m going to make sure you never run away again.”

He cups my cheek and turns me to face him. “I might just chain you to my bed for all eternity. Turn you into a truly kept woman. A sex slave. My slave.” He bites my earlobe. “Mine.”

My insides turn from mush to boiling hot with the sharp pain of his teeth. All my feminism just flew out the window with his possessive words.

“When we get checked in, the first thing I’m going to do is fuck you like my life depends on it because at this point, I really think it might. I took another week off to hunt you down. I haven’t taken more than a day off work at one time in ten years. You’re driving me crazy, Siren.” He gives a wolfish smile as we drive past the White House. “I guess you really are one, with the way I’ve become obsessed with you.”

It takes less than five minutes from the time the driver drops us in front of the hotel until I’m pressed against the wall of the elevator. I can feel Thomas’ hard length against my stomach as he dominates my mouth with his own. He kisses me like he’ll never get enough, like I’m his oxygen. When the doors slide open he yanks me along behind him roughly.

Every part of me is burning for him.

As soon as the hotel room door closes behind us, his mouth is fused to mine again. He pulls my shirt over my head and pushes my shorts down my legs. I work his shirt off while we stumble through the dark to the bed. It’s a frantic race to fuck all the emotions we’ve experienced the past few days out of our system.

My legs hit the side of the bed and I fall backwards while he climbs on top, pulling me up to pillows. His lips leave mine to kiss and lick and bite a trail down my body to the apex of my thighs. His hands hook around my panties as he pulls them off and tosses them aside.

Then his tongue laps at me, sliding up and down my slit with deviant intent. My body arches against his mouth as he bites my clit, giving me the perfect amount of pain with my pleasure. I beg for his fingers, the way he finds that spot deep inside and sends my orgasms straight through the air.

“No.” He sits up between my thighs. “Your g-spot is a reward you haven’t earned.”

He slowly pulls his belt through the loops and lays it out beside us before stripping his pants and boxer briefs off. Ever so slowly, he crawls up my body until he’s kneeling over my chest.

“Wrists,” he commands as he grabs his belt.

I hold them up and together for him as he wraps it around and cinches them together.

“This ismybody to play with tonight.” He pushes my hands over my head. “Leave them until I say otherwise.”

“Yes, Dr.” I intended to use a teasing tone, but instead the taunt came out as a sexy whisper.

“Oh, Siren. You don’t know what you’re in for.” He strokes himself as he looks down darkly at me. “Open those pouty lips for my cock.”

I immediately open for him as he guides his dick down my throat. He grips the headboard with one hand and my hair with the other. At first, his pace is slow and steady. When I hollow my cheeks around him, he groans my name. His control snaps when I moan and do it again. He thrusts into my mouth with bruising intensity.

I can feel his release building as his cock jerks in my mouth. Right before he comes he pulls out from between my lips and slides back down my body. Before I can formulate my complaint at his hasty retreat he’s flipping me onto my stomach and lifting my hips in the air.

My arms are still stretched and bound above my head, my chest pressed onto the mattress, the scratchy hotel bed linens abrasive against my hardened nipples. The combination of my discomfort heightens the pleasure as he slowly works his way into me.

With a painfully unhurried pace, he glides back and forth inside me. Once he fully seats himself, he circles his pelvis against my cunt, somehow finding the place inside me that he knows how to work effortlessly.

He repeats the motion over and over until I’m trembling under him only to pull all the way out, leaving me aching and needy. His fingers find my clit, teasing me right back to the precipice before withdrawing.

I whimper and lift my hips even higher, begging silently for the release I know he can give me. Then I feel his tongue on me again. He circles my pussy relentlessly, then lazily makes his way down to my clit, but only teases back and forth, taunting me with desire and need.

---