The Dirty Series 2(103)

No. Not now. Those thoughts can’t be here. Not now.

She doesn’t hesitate when I tell her I’m going to take her. She doesn’t shy away, just leaps onto me like a tigress. I’d fuck her right now if the driver was someone anonymous who wasn’t likely to give me shit for it later, but I restrain myself for Noah’s sake.

It’s a near thing.

By the time we spill out of the Bentley in front of the Four Seasons, my cock is raging against the confines of my boxers and pants. I’m nearly blind with need for her. If I’m not fucking her in the next five minutes….

The both of us can barely hold it together long enough to get across the lobby to the private elevator, and as soon as the door closes behind us she’s on me, ravenous, a living reflection of my need for her. She hardly seems to notice that we’re speeding toward the penthouse. She has the lapels of my suit jacket clenched in her fists and is pushing me back against the wall, standing on tiptoe to kiss me deep and long and hard.

I let her take control for as long as I can stand it, and then I flex my muscles, pushing away from the wall, pushing her back against the opposite wall, sliding my hand behind her head just before it makes contact.

She sucks in a sharp breath and her grip on my lapels tightens, but her body relaxes a little underneath my hands, ceding control.

It drives me fucking wild.

A woman who isn’t afraid to make the first move, but that tiny shift of her weight, the way she melts under my hands just slightly, tells me that she has a little bit of a submissive side. I’d bet all of my money right now that she’ll goddamn love being bent over my bed and fucked like—

The door slides open and I pull her out into the living room of the suite. Carolyn doesn’t pause for a second, not a single instant, to survey the space, like it’s not one of the city’s most opulent set of rooms. She’s not a wide-eyed small town girl, that’s for damn sure. Either that or, like me, she’s totally consumed by what’s happening between us right now, burning up in the flames and loving every moment of it.

I sweep her through the living room and into the master bedroom. When I bring us to a stop in front of the glittering canopy bed, her focus shifts to the buttons of my jacket.

Her hands tremble slightly but she doesn’t fumble with the buttons, undoing them one by one with slick efficiency, her eyes narrowed. As soon as the last one is free she slips her hands into the jacket and shoves it off my shoulders, leaving me to strip it off and drop it to the ground. By the time it falls to the floor she already has three buttons of my shirt undone, then yanks it out of my pants. I shrug it off and she goes for my belt.

I stop her, catching both of her wrists in one of my hands. “Not fair,” I growl, and her eyes widen a little. I smile at the pink in her cheeks, at her heaving breaths. “I’m half-naked, and you’ve still got an entire dress on.”

“Take it off.”

Her voice is low, tight with desire, and I don’t hesitate to give her what she wants.

I turn her with one quick motion, my fingers finding the zipper and tugging it down, then the dress, slipping the red, silky fabric over the curve of her hips to reveal a black bra and panty set that’s mostly lace, covering an ass that could launch a thousand ships.

Carolyn turns back to face me, and I have to take a step back, bite down on one of my knuckles just to keep from ravishing her right here on the floor. The curve of her waist is a fucking symphony, and it plays right along with the swell of her breasts, the lithe legs, the shoulders that make me want to—

“If you’re going to stare at me all night, at least put your hands on me.”

Fuck yes.

I start with her bra straps, hooking one finger underneath each one and pulling them down over her shoulders, and she trembles when I reach behind her and unclasp it, exposing her hard, pink nipples already pebbled with desire.

The panties are next. I drop to my knees and pull them down her legs, inch by agonizing inch, exposing pure perfection. I could fucking worship that all night, but my cock is painfully hard. No more waiting.

She scrambles over to the bed while I rid myself of shoes, socks, pants, boxers, my cock standing straight out. Carolyn sits propped on her elbows, eyes huge and dark, biting her lip, and it takes me two steps to get to her, one movement to be on the bed on top of her, exploring her mouth with my tongue, knocking her knees apart with mine, spreading her wide beneath me.

Carolyn moans into my mouth and opens herself a little bit wider, begging without words.

What kind of man would I be if I let her down now?

I take my cock in my fist and line myself up with her opening, slick and ready and waiting, and she spreads her arms out to either side, tips her head back, and whispers “please.”