After a beat, Corey takes a step back. His blue eyes are so dark they’re almost black, his lips are swollen from our kiss, and his wide chest heaves as he drags in some much-needed air.
“Come on. I need you out of that dress.”
Desire pools between my thighs, knowing that he wants me so badly. That I turn him on this much.
The walk to our room is short, but it seems to take forever for Corey to get the door to unlock.
“Fucking thing,” he mutters frustratedly as he frantically pushes the card in and out of the small slot.
“As much as I like your eagerness, let me.” I place my hand on his and he pauses.
Taking the card, I slide it into the machine with a little more grace, and the light immediately flicks to green.
“How’d you?—”
“Do you really want to discuss technique right now?”
“Oh,” he says, taking hold of my hips and pushing me through the door. “There’s a few of your techniques that I’m really quite interested in. Opening the door, however, is not one of them.”
I begin to laugh, but the second he presses his crotch against my ass, and I once again feel his hardness, all amusement leaves me.
The door slams behind us, signaling that we’re alone for the first time. A shudder runs down my spine as the silence of the space fills my ears.
Corey leans forward, his increased breaths tickling my ear. “I’ve been dreaming about this since you fell into my lap last night,” he whispers, his rough voice making my panties even wetter.
I groan in response.
“Then I find you tonight in this sexy little dress, and the only thing I’ve been able to think about is getting you out of it. Discovering if what’s beneath is just as breathtaking.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as his fingertips trail across my collarbones before dipping into the cleavage my dress exposes. He runs a line around the swell of my breasts before teasing my nipples beneath the fabric with his thumb. My back arches, my body silently begging for more of his addictive touch. We’re both still fully clothed, yet I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt more desired. More wanted.
His hand drops to the tie that’s knotted at my waist. He pauses, giving me a chance to change my mind. But when I don’tsay anything, his fingers make quick work of undoing it. My dress falls open and my skin erupts in goose bumps as the cool air surrounds me. His fingers continue with their exploration. They run over the lace edging of my bra before descending over my ribs, circling my belly button before tickling along the top of my panties.
“Are you wet for me, Harlow?” he groans, his fingers dropping lower over the lace. I gasp, expecting them to connect with where I need them most, but at the last minute he moves them away.
“Fuck,” I breathe in frustration. He chuckles, but the sound is cut off as I’m suddenly spun around and pushed up against the wall.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, staring down at my black lace–clad body. “You should be fucking illegal.”
His hand reaches for my waist, and his lips find mine once more. My fingernails run down his back before clinging to the fabric of his shirt.
Unhappy with him still being fully clothed while I’m here half naked, I make my way to the buttons and begin undoing them. The second the fabric parts, my hands dive inside, desperate to feel his hot, taut skin against my palms. And fuck if that’s not what I find. I knew he was cut—it was obvious even covered in fabric—but as my fingers trail across the definition of his abs, I realize I hadn’t given him enough credit.
My hands slide to his shoulders, and I hurriedly push it away. With a little help from him, the fabric flutters to the ground, and, after pulling my lips from his, I get my first look at his sculpted, tattooed chest. It’s pretty mind-blowing. His ink is stunning. It’s intricate, captivating, and clearly holds so many memories and stories. My eyes flick over it, but I don’t get a chance to fully absorb everything because his hands drop to his waist and his fingers flick open the button before his pants fall to the floor,leaving him standing in just a pair of tight black boxer briefs. The fabric strains against his steel length, and my need to reach out and take it in my hand is almost too much to bear. I suck on my bottom lip as my fingers twitch to feel how hot and smooth he is.
His thumb presses against my chin and successfully pulls my lip free. “Save the sucking for later, eh?” he says with a wink before his lips crash to mine once again.
My dress is pulled from my shoulders before I’m lifted from my feet. The coldness of the wall bites into my back, but the second Corey’s lips trail down over my collarbone and toward my lace-covered breasts, I forget all about it.
“I want to fucking devour you, Harlow. You taste so fucking sweet.”
Arching my back, I offer myself to him, desperate for him to release my swollen, heavy breasts.
“Fuck,” he barks, slipping his hand around my back and releasing the clasp.
The relief is instant, and in another second the item of clothing is discarded, and Corey is staring down at my chest like it’s the first pair he’s ever seen. We’ve not discussed our sexual history, thank fuck, but I highly doubt this is his first showing.
With his hips pinning me to the wall, he palms my breasts. Then, dropping his head, he sucks one of my nipples into his hot, greedy mouth. My head bangs back against the wall, but I don’t feel anything other than the electric bolt that shoots straight between my legs.
