We step into the elevator, and she presses the button for the fifth floor. I notice she doesn’t have a purse. It’s not like her dress has pockets. Where’s her key?
She staggers into me, and in my already drunken state, I stumble into the wall. “Mmm,” she says, making me laugh as she rubs up against me.
The doors open, and I start steering her off the elevator. “Which room?” I ask, trying not to act affected when she continues to tug at my shirt and backs against a door.
“This one.”
I tilt my head, ready to ask where her key is, when she reaches into her bra with her free hand. My eyes dart down—of course—and I get a peek at her erect nipples behind the lacy bra. That’s like putting a steak in front of a starving man.
I groan as I lose all my ability to hold back, and I lower my head while pushing her dress and bra down in unison to allow way for my mouth to close over the hard little nub.
She moans when she feels it, and she pulls me to her, tangling her fingers in my hair when she drops her shoes to the floor. That thin thread of sanity I had snaps, my morality collapses into a pile of rubble, and I lift her into the air before pressing her hard against the door.
I jerk the key out of her hand and blindly fumble with it, never moving my mouth away from her breast until the door opens. After I kick her shoes inside, we stumble into the room, and I lose my hold on her nipple, but her mouth is on mine before I can go for it again.
Her greedy tongue sweeps in and my knees try to buckle. I’ve been kissed by many girls, but this is more than a kiss. It’s as though Tria is unleashing years of pent-up desire on me, and imprinting herself on me with each hungry stroke of her tongue.
The door slowly shuts on its own as we start tearing the place apart. She actually rips my shirt off as her legs clamp around my waist, and I start unzipping the back of the dress that has been fucking with my head all night.
Everything around me becomes forgotten. The sounds echoing through the room are raw and desperate, both of us seeking all we can get from the other before the illusion is shattered and we have to return to reality.
“You’d better have a condom,” she says against my lips, making me smile.
If she’s sober enough to think about protection, then she’s sober enough for us to do this. God knows I can’t stop now.
“I’ve got plenty.”
Her kiss resumes—an almost violent and punishing kiss that has my eyes trying to roll back in my head. I hold her to me for a second longer before I put her down, quickly removing and discarding her dress.
Fuck me. Tria in lace isn’t something I was prepared for. A thong? I’m never going to last. Not after being hard for this long.
She reaches her hand in my pants, and delicate fingers take a firm grip on my cock, stroke it, and make me stumble again when my knees falter. Damn. She’s going to make me fuck up and come too early if she keeps this up.
I lift her to be on the dining table in her massive suite. Her girly panting makes me hurry my motions as I fumble for a condom. She gets to work pushing my pants down while I tear open the condom, and I roll her thong down, desperate to be buried inside her the way I’ve fantasized about being all night long.
I rip the pack open with my teeth, but she takes the condom from me and rolls it on like I’m taking too long. The slightest touch of her hands on my cock has me counting to ten, trying my damnedest not to embarrass myself.
The second it’s secure, she spreads her legs and jerks me to her. A low growl comes from my throat as I grip her to me, my eyes roll back as I sink in, and I almost come then and there when she moans in delight.
I was really hoping she wouldn’t feel this damn good. Fuck. It’s like a hot, wet, velvet heaven is encasing me, squeezing me like a gentle vice.
I start moving slowly, doing what I can to last long enough for her to find her release first, but it’s never going to happen. Not after the way she’s had me worked up all night.
“Kode,” she murmurs, pushing back.
Fuck. She’s changing her mind now? Damn it.
“Yeah?” I mutter, going down to kiss her neck, praying she doesn’t stop me just yet.
“We hate each other,” she says, tilting her head to give me a better angle, and I take advantage. I also push back inside her, making her breath catch when our bases meet and rub together.
“So?” I ask, knowing where she’s going with this, but praying I’m wrong.
“So fuck me like you hate me, already.”
Damn. If I didn’t hate her, I think that would have made me fall in love. That’s really not going to help me last long.
I pull out of her and flip her over, pressing her against the table, and I slam into her from behind before she has time to register my actions.