Page 152 of The Playboy

I nodded toward the open door. “Get in.” I followed behind her, pressing the button for the top floor, and moved to the back of the elevator, where she was standing, wrapping my arms around her stomach. “God, I’m fucking hungry.” My face was in her neck, and I kissed down to her collarbone.

As I stood behind her, she pressed her palms against my thighs. “Dinner’s soon, right?”

“It was.”

“Was?” She paused. “We’re not going?”

Knowing we were on camera, that our security team often reviewed these tapes for extra measures and training purposes, I kept my hands on her navel. “I’ll have food delivered when I’m done.”

“Done?” She looked at me from over her shoulder.

I held the other side of her face, the one that wasn’t pointed toward me, and I growled in her ear, “Done with your fucking pussy.”

“Macon …”

My name didn’t come out as a sigh.

It came out as a breath.

Like the anticipation of having me inside her wasn’t allowing her to get in enough air.

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened.

“Your room. Now.”

Because I couldn’t wait another fucking second to feel her.

And to get her moving even faster, I gave her ass a small spank.

“Mmm,” she moaned as my hand pulled away. “So, you are going to feed me.”

The longer we were together, the dirtier she got. It was the hottest thing ever.

I held the base of her neck. “With every part of my body.”

“I think you need to promise me something.”

“Yeah?” My thumb went into her mouth, scraping the sides between her teeth. “What’s that?”

I pulled it out so she could say, “You need to make me scream louder than I ever have.”

Her request made my dick throb even harder, my hard-on grinding against my boxer briefs, which then forced my crown to rub against the back side of the zipper.

“Get your ass in that room before I carry you.”

She gave me a long grin before she walked out of the elevator, getting her key card ready so that by the time we reached the door, she only had to wave it in front of the reader.

Once it was open and I moved in behind her, I surrounded her waist and turned her toward me. “I can’t wait to fucking taste you.”

There was no reason we needed to wait until we got to the bed. Not when I could easily strip her in the doorway, so that was what I started doing, dropping her pants down her legs and helping her out of her shoes, lifting her shirt over her head. When she had only her bra and panties left, I backed her up against the door. While I took her mouth, ravishing those perfect lips, I unclasped the hook, tossing her bra, and I pushed the lace past her hips, hearing the soft fall of her panties.

“Are you wet?” I asked as soon as I separated us.

She used the door as support and arched her back, forcing her chest to stick out. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“No, Brooklyn, I asked you a question.” I put a few feet of distance between us. “Now, tell me, are you wet?”

“I’m dripping.”

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