“Does that . . . turn you on?”
I lift my gaze and I swear the vulnerability in her eyes is enough to slay me. The depths of her golden green eyes chase every coherent thought from my mind. She wants to know what turns me on.She wants me.
“No.” All logic and good sense must have vacated since I stepped inside this hotel room because what I do next is a bad idea. Scrolling through several videos, I find one that’s not so hard core. The girl is on her back, her eyes on her man as he holds the camera. “I’m more into this.” I tilt the phone so Opal can see.
“That good, baby?” The man flips the viewfinder down to where he thrusts himself in and out of her pussy. The sight of it is erotic, and like a good soldier my dick rises to attention.
The woman doesn’t answer and instead groans as his free hand massages her clit. He uses the camera to follow back up her body, his free hand skimming her belly and then cupping her breasts before it settles at her throat.
“Choke me,” she rasps, and fuck, I don’t know how the dude doesn’t blow his load, the need in her gaze is so intense.
He holds her throat steady and by the bounce of the camera simultaneously picks up his pace thrusting into her harder and harder.
Opal gasps, drawing my attention away from the screen and to her heated cheeks. Her lips part and I swear her breath is bated as she watches in utter fascination. She lifts her gaze a second to meet mine before she’s drawn back to the screen. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
By the woman’s chants and groans, she’s having no issues breathing. I shake my head. “No. Not the way they’re doing it.”
“That’s really hot.”
I agree completely but can’t bring myself to answer.
“Do most guys get off on that?”
“Watch her face.” My voice is reduced to a whisper and even I can hear the need in my tone. “That’s the thing with dominance. Sure, he could hurt her, but he doesn’t. She’s the one in control. Look at the amount of trust she gives him.”
“I think I get it.” She nods and her gaze sweeps from the phone to my face. I swear my pulse speeds in that one look. “Her trusting him to take control makes it that much hotter?”
I clear my throat. “Don’t you think? Trust elevatesthat—”I glance back at my phone because I swear if I look in her eyes any longer I’ll be tempted to capture her lips in a kiss. “To more than just fucking.”
Her giggle is light, flirty, and totally unexpected. “Why Leighton, aren’t you the romantic?”
“You say to the guy who’s feeding you porn.” I bump my shoulder against hers.
“Good porn.”
Very good porn. Porn I’d like to make with you.
I turn my chin, just a fraction of an inch, and it’s enough to catch her gaze trained on my lips. There are a thousand reasons not to kiss her right now. Or ever. But I’m tired of fighting this attraction. Fuck it. I don’t even know if she sees me coming, but when my lips press against hers they open on a gasp. That’s all the invitation I need.
My hand slides up her jaw and I cradle her chin. Tasting, sucking, exploring her mouth and what she likes. She rolls to her back. I push up on my side and deepen our kiss. The sounds of homemade porn serenade our make-out session—completely unromantic—but I can’t find it in me to care. The only thought in my mind is to satisfy the insatiable craving when it comes to this woman. Nothing could make me stop.
That is, until the porn soundtrack cuts off with the ring of my phone.
Opal pulls back, her breath heavy and voice raspy. “Do you need to get that?”
No. I don’t want to. The only person calling is the one who will ruin everything good about this moment. “Let it go to voicemail,” I say, and dip my chin to capture her lips again. Sweetness. That’s who she is and how she tastes. Okay, so it might be the champagne. But I can’t get enough of her mouth. I could kiss her all night. I may do just that.
Whoever’s calling, though, has other plans, and the shrill ring of my phone sounds again. Their persistence slows the intensity of my lips.
Opal pulls back again. “Sure you don’t want to get that?” She tilts her head to the side where my phone is.
“I really don’t.” Shaking my head, I caress the length of her neck.
“Might be important?” Her gaze is concerned as it lifts to mine. “’Cause the devil’s calling. Your phone. Caller ID says The Devil.”
Fuck.I swipe my phone, silence the ringer, and send it to voicemail. I sit up and take a deep breath. “Uh, I should . . .” I adjust myself, my cock still straining against my jeans, and glance back, knowing what I have to do.
“Stay?” Her eyes are wide and hopeful.
