This Man
Page 31He kisses me hard on the lips and pulls away. ‘Sorry, I can’t risk it.’ He scoops me up into his arms and stalks towards the bathroom.
‘What? They’ll want to see in there too.’ He can’t be serious?
‘I’ll lock the door. No screaming.’ He looks at me on a small smirk.
I’m shocked, but I laugh. ‘You have no shame.’
‘No. My c**k has been aching since last Friday, I finally have you in my arms and you’ve seen sense. I’m going nowhere and neither are you.’
Chapter 9
He kicks the door shut behind him, placing me between the sinks on the marble vanity unit before returning to lock the door. My dress is still bunched around my waist, my legs and knickers completely exposed.
I gaze around the vast room that I’m so familiar with, my eyes falling on the gigantic, cream, marble bath dominating the centre of the room. I smile, remembering the trauma of having to organise a crane to lift it in through the windows. It was a nightmare, but it does look spectacular. The double, open ended shower on the back wall is made up of a floor to ceiling sheeted glass and beige Travertine tiles, and the vanity unit that I’ve been placed on is cream, Italian marble, with two sunken sinks and large waterfall taps. A thick, gold framed, intricately carved mirror spans the entire width of the unit, and a chaise lounge sits at an angle in the window. It really is luxury embodied.
With his final button unfastened, he stands before me with his shirt draped open. I can’t resist reaching up and running my finger down the centre of his hard, tanned chest. He looks down to follow my trail, placing his hands on either side of my hips, nudging his way between my thighs. As he looks at me, his lips tip at the edges and his eyes sparkle, the slight creases at the corner softening the usual intensiveness of them.
‘You can’t escape now.’ he teases.
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Good.’ he mouths, dragging my eyes to his lovely lips.
I trail my finger back up his chest, working my way past his throat until my finger rests on his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, biting my finger playfully. I smile, continuing upwards and running my hand through his hair.
‘I like your dress.’ He drags his eyes down my front.
I follow his stare to the bunched up material around my waist. ‘Thank you.’
‘It is.’ I agree. The anticipation is killing me. Rip off the dress!
‘Shall we remove it?’ He cocks a brow at me, the corners of his mouth twitching.
I smile. ‘If you like,’
‘Or maybe, we leave it on?’ He breaks into a full on smile as he holds his hands up.
I melt all over the vanity unit.
He slides his hands around my back. ‘But then again, I have firsthand knowledge of what’s under this lovely dress,’ He reaches up, grasping the zipper, breathing into my ear as he does. ‘And it’s far superior to the dress.’ he whispers, pulling it down slowly, teasingly. I’m panting hard and desperate. ‘I think we’ll get rid of it.’ He lifts me off of the counter, placing me on my feet before pulling my dress away from my body and letting it drop to the floor. He kicks it to the side without taking his eyes off of me.
I frown at him. ‘I like that dress.’ I couldn’t give a toss about the dress. He could have ripped it off and cleaned the windows with it, for all I care.
The throb at my core is bordering on painful, and I’m at serious risk of falling apart if he continues with that alone. I want to tell him to hurry up; I’m struggling to control myself here.
Reaching behind me, he unclasps my bra, pulling the straps down my arms and flinging it behind him. I lean back on my hands, exposing my br**sts to him.
Looking into my eyes, he lifts his hand and places it, palm down, under my throat. ‘I can feel your heart hammering.’ he says quietly. ‘You’re so affected by me.’
I’m not going to challenge him on that statement. He’s right, and I’m not even bothering to try and fight it anymore.
He glides his palm down between my br**sts until it rests on my stomach, as he looks at me – all smoldering and delicious.
‘You’re too f**king beautiful, lady’ he grinds firmly. ‘I think I’ll keep you.’
I arch my back, thrusting my chest forward, and he smiles before lowering his mouth and taking my nipple deep, sucking hard. When he brings his hand up to massage my other breast, I moan, letting my head fall back against the mirror. Oh, good God. The man is a genius. His arousal is as hard as lead, pressing between my thighs, causing me to roll my hips to ease the throb on a long, drawn out moan. I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to soak up the pleasure because it’s so good, but the need to have him is getting the better of me, the pressure in my groin near exploding point. As if reading my mind, he skates his hand up the inside of my thigh, finding the edge of my knickers. One finger breaches the barrier, lightly brushing the tip of my clit.