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Prodigal Son(46)

By:Jayna King


Part of me wanted to throw her on the floor, tear off her clothes and fuck her hard, regardless of whether or not she was ready. I wasn’t going to act like a complete animal, though, and I wanted her to be as turned on as I was. I unbuttoned the rest of her shirt, and I slipped it off her shoulders, letting it slide to the floor.

“Jesus,” I whispered, as I ran my hands over her, feeling her nipples harden beneath the thin lace of her black bra. Her breasts were larger and fuller than I’d guessed, and her narrow waist was the natural spot for my hands as I turned my face up to kiss her. I ran my hands down to her hips and around to her back, feeling her jeans stretched tight over her hips and finding her ass. I squeezed as I kissed her hard. “We’re gonna need more champagne.”

I stood up, keeping my hands under her ass to take her with me. I crossed the room in a few steps and reached the wall near one of the six telephones in the suite. I pressed Krystal — her legs wrapped tightly around me — against the wall, and I kissed her hard, pinning her to the wall with the weight of my body. She wound her arms around my neck and pushed her breasts against my chest.

“You still have too many clothes on, and I’ll handle that in a second,” I said just before I picked up the phone. Room service picked up. “I need another bottle of the champagne that I ordered earlier.” Holding Krystal against the wall while I ordered more wine, thinking about the things I planned to do to the gorgeous and willing girl I had in front of me made me feel powerful, like I was in control, and I liked the feeling. “Knock, and then bring it in and leave it in the living room. I’ll be busy, and I’ll sign for it later this evening when I order dinner.” I hung up without waiting for a response.

“Krystal?”

“Yes?” she answered, looking puzzled.

“By the time I’m finished with you, you’re going to be screaming my name.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“And then I’m gonna do it again.”

I pulled her away from the wall, carried her into the enormous master bedroom, and closed the door.





Chapter 22


Krystal


So maybe Luke wasn’t going to be as boring as I’d feared. When he’d asked if he could take my shirt off, I’d nearly gotten up and left the hotel altogether. I had straddled him, for fuck’s sake, and I’d completely thrown myself at him, and he asked me if he could undo a few buttons. Maybe I’d been ruined by too many strong, alpha male bikers, but I wanted a man who would take charge. Luke was gorgeous, but if I had to walk him through every step of getting it on, I just wasn’t going to bother.

When he’d stood up and held me up against the wall, though, I started to think that there might be some hope for him. I wanted him to want me so much that he’d lose control, that he’d just lose himself in the moment.

He didn’t say a word when he set me down on the bedroom floor. I’d been in the room before, but I’d forgotten how huge it was. I stood at the foot of the bed, just where Luke had left me. I was determined to make him take control. He ran his hands over my tits again, and I could hardly stand the fact that there was still lace between his hands and my nipples. He brushed his fingers over me, lightly, but with just enough pressure that a moan escaped from my lips. His soft touch was somehow more erotic than I’d expected.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to see from the very first moment I met you,” Luke said, as he teased my nipples, visible through the black lace.

I caught my breath as he squeezed them both, very gently at first, but increasing the pressure before he slid his hands down to my hips.

“And what’s that?” I asked, feeling almost a little light headed from the excitement.

Luke turned me around to face the bed, and reached around from behind me to unbutton my jeans. He slid his index finger beneath the waist of my jeans, and he ran his hand around to my lower back. “This,” he said, when his hand reached the area where my skin was tattooed.

He moved his hands to the front of my jeans again, and he unzipped them and, very slowly, slid them down over my hips, making sure to leave my black and purple lace panties in place. The low rise boy shorts exposed the curve of my ass cheeks, and Luke took his time pulling the jeans down, finally holding them while I stepped out of them. He tossed them onto one of the chairs, and he stepped back to look at me. In the mirror above the headboard, I could see him looking me up and down from behind, looking like he was starving, and I was something delicious to eat.

I knew the tattoo was gorgeous. I felt the light touch of Luke’s hand as he traced the graceful arc of the cherry blossom branch that stretched over the koi pond that held three fish. The cherry blossoms that dotted the water were meant to symbolize the fragility and fleeting nature of life and beauty, or that was what Moses had told me when he’d drawn the design. He’d always had the best eye for tattoos that suited a person perfectly. My work of art was no exception.