I take the glass of wine from his hand. Our fingers brush and I meet his eyes. He nods over to a corner and I follow him, keeping on his heels as we weave through the tables and booths.
The table is empty but he pulls me onto his lap. I straddle him, his arm around my waist keeping me steady on top of him. My p.ussy is firm against his c.ock, and the teasing pressure is begging me to rub against him.
"What do you do?" he asks, swigging from his beer bottle.
"A job," I answer cryptically. "You?"
"The same." Lips. Smirk. "Do you enjoy it?"
"Do you?"
"Do you typically answer a question with a question?"
"Do you typically ask a woman you're planning to fvck about her life?"
"Touché."
I tilt my glass with a triumphant smile and sip. "I didn't think so."
He watches me as I drink. Watches as my lips curve around the glass and part to let the wine into my mouth, and he sure as shit watches when my tongue flicks out to lick up the moisture.
"I love your lips," he murmurs, putting his bottle down and raising his hand to my mouth. "They're so soft... so sweet... I'm going crazy thinking about all the things you could do with them."
His thumb ghosts across my bottom lip, the roughness of it burning me almost. I part my lips and flick my tongue against his thumb, watching his eyes flash with renewed desire.
He takes my wine, sets it down, and pulls me closer into him. "Are you here alone?"
"Yes."
"Don't look," he says against my jaw. "But there's a man by the bar whose expression says differently."
"What does he look like?" I want to look. F.uck, I want to look.
"Light hair. Wearing a white shirt. Six foot two, maybe."
Jackson. "Don't worry about him." I curve my hand around his neck and tilt my face into his.
"Ex?"
"Someone who didn't take his chance when it existed."
"Aahhhh." My stranger turns his face to mine and slides a hand up my back. "Looks like he didn't get the memo, babe."
"So give him it."
His lips twitch into a smile just before he kisses me. His kiss is rough, rougher than before. It screams of possession, of a temporary ownership that coils through my body and only winds me tighter. He bites my bottom lip and tugs it, further showing that dominance, this time to me. It should hurt, it should make me whimper in pain, but it doesn't. It sends a bolt of desire between my legs and makes me respond to his kiss more vigorously.
My ex-boss is forgotten as thoughts of what this stranger could do to me fill my mind.
He's strong and commanding. He's already shown me he's not afraid to tell me what he wants from me or indeed, what he's going to do to me.
He's aware of his ability, and maybe even of the raw sexuality that comes off him.
He's certainly aware that he can kiss like no man's business.
"Would it be rude of me to grab your hand and pull you out of here right in front of him?" he rasps into my ear. "Because you're rubbing that tight pvssy against my c.ock and I'm five seconds away from unbuttoning my trousers and fvcking you right here."
I take a deep breath. My stomach is tight with need. "Not rude at all."
"Perfect," he murmurs, kissing me once more before helping me stand. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a wallet. He opens it, grabs a card, and hands it to me. I take the card from his hand and look at it. Room card.
"This is the key to room 501 at the hotel across the road." He runs his fingers along my jaw and tilts my chin up. "Meet me there in ten minutes."
"I get the feeling this isn't your first rodeo." I raise an eyebrow.
"No, it isn't, but it isn't yours either, is it?"
"Touché."
He acknowledges it with a tilt of his head. "Ten minutes. Room 501."
With those words he steps back and disappears. I draw in a long, needing breath and tuck the card into my purse. Somehow it hasn't got tangled in our clinches, and I'm wishing I packed a spare pair of panties. The ones I'm wearing are fvcked.
His words are still echoing in my mind when my wrist is grabbed and I'm turned around. "I thought you were going home."
I stare at Jackson. "I was. I got waylaid."
He glances at my purse. "Looks like you're not getting back on track any time soon."
"We all need a little detour when the mood strikes us."
"It's not the only mood striking you tonight."
"Do you have a problem, Jackson? Because you're sure fvcking dancing around something."
"You don't know the guy," he says, pulling me over to the bar.
I yank my hand from his grip and stare at him. "All the better for me, then. Is that it or can I go now?"
He stares at me for a long moment. His jaw tics but he doesn't say anything, so I turn.
"Go out with me."
"Excuse me?" I look over my shoulder, my eyes wide.
"Go on a date with me."
I wanted to fvck you, not date you, you moron.
"I'm about to go and sleep with another guy and you're asking me on a date?" His jaw clenches.
"You're a fool," I say before walking away.
I push my way downstairs and out of the club. Go on a fvcking date indeed.
Dates aren't my thing. In fact, they're as far fvcking from it as they could be. Dates are full of lovey, mushy get-to-know you bulls.hit. They build a relationship on the person inside, on emotion, and for me, on potential addiction.
The more I know about a person the more likely I'll get addicted to them.
Take my ex-fvck buddy. All I knew about Zayn was his name, his number, his address, and what size condom he needed.
That's all you need to know about a person.
And tonight I don't even need that. Hell, I don't even need Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome and Oh So British's number.
I just need the hotel room and his c.ock and we'll be right on track.
I push the thoughts of dating and addictions to the back of my mind. That's the purpose of the one night stands, after all. To avoid the possibility of addiction. And the man waiting for me, the dangerous love 'em and leave 'em man, is the perfect guy to scratch my clit's itch.
I walk into the lobby of the hotel like I'm meant to be here and head for the elevators.
Once inside, I locate the floor room 501 is on and press the corresponding floor button. I run my fingers through my hair and wipe a small black smudge from my eye using the mirrored walls, and the doors open with a swooshing sound.
I step out and make my way down the hall. The door to room 501 opens and my British stranger fills the doorway.
"Good timing," I say, looking into his eyes.
His dark green eyes.
They're soft like melted honey, but the glint is dangerous. It's almost black. It's tempting, hiding something that's begging to be uncovered."Let's just say I saw you coming." He smirks.
I raise an eyebrow but don't press it. "Are you inviting me in or are you keeping me in the hall?"
He opens the door and steps to the side. I walk inside with his eyes on me. Hotter than in the club, he runs his gaze over my body and doesn't stop even when I turn. I throw my purse on the sofa and wait for him to make the move.
I'm not used to waiting. I'm not used to standing back while someone else takes control, because it's never usually about the guy. The one nights are about me and me getting what I need.
But this... I know instinctively that pressing him won't work.
His commanding presence, his dark eyes, his smirking lips... The steadiness of his stride as he approaches me... These things tell me he's a man who's used to being in control.
A man who craves control.
And despite me usually being in control in bed, I crave the opposite.
I crave to be controlled.
I crave to let go entirely, to surrender to someone else's desires. My life is constant control. It's a constant fight against the inevitable. I spend every day toeing the line to protect myself, to keep the control I so desperately want to give up.
And he... He could give me that.
I can feel it.
I tilt my face up to meet his gaze. His eyes flare with heat and I step into him without thinking. He has a pull on me, a sexual pull I can't fight.
S.hit, I want to see what else this man can do to me.
He lowers his face to mine. His lips crash into mine with fervor, and he pulls me into him. His hands slide down my back and over my a.ss once more, holding me closer.
I can feel every ridge of his body. My hands are pressed against his stomach, my thumbs close to the buttons of his shirt. I can feel the heat through the thin material and I want to touch him without it. So I move my hands and undo the buttons, working my way down, brushing his hard cock with the backs of my fingers when I'm done.
I splay my fingers across his toned stomach and he groans low. He tugs at the hem of my dress, walking me backward. His fingers work my dress until it's around my waist and he drops his hands once more, cups my thighs, and lifts me.
My legs wrap around his waist and he carries me into another room. There, he sets me down, making sure my core rubs his c.ock as he does. I gasp, and he breaks the kiss and yanks the dress over my head. It falls to the floor as he looks my body over, his chest rising and falling.
Goosebumps erupt across my skin as his eyes linger on my chest. With a shrug, his shirt falls away, exposing broad shoulders and shapely biceps. His lips purse as he exhales slowly and before I can think, his hands are in my hair and his lips are descending on mine once more.
His kiss is hot and hurried, his tongue desperately sweeping my mouth and tasting every inch of me. My tongue flicks against his as he tugs my hair, pushing me down against the bed.
My hands move across his stomach and around to his back, loving the smooth heat of his skin. He releases my hair and pulls back. He lowers his hand to the clasp of my bra and unclips it, pushing my bra away and freeing my breasts.
He cups them, this time skin on skin, and I inhale at the sensation. He brushes his thumbs across my nipples, hardening them instantly, and when his lips buzz down my neck, my back arches.
His thumbs teasing my nipples and his mouth against my skin is a heady combination.Then his mouth replaces his thumb and it's his tongue rubbing across my sensitive skin, and I moan.
"Mmm." The sound vibrates against me as he trails his mouth to my other breast.
"You have gorgeous tits. Tell me, babe, does your cunt taste as sweet as they do?"
Holy hell. I moan again and push my hips up. My pussy is achingly wet. My legs curve around his waist and I push myself against him again. My hips grind, feeling the hardness of him against my softness.
He pulls his mouth from me, lets go of my breasts, and slides his hands down my body.
They reach my hips and he grips, stilling me. His fingers dig in to my skin, a sweet pressure.
"You can do that later. Now, though, I'm intrigued by your taste."
His fingers hook inside my panties and slowly, teasingly, tantalizingly, he pulls them down my legs. He grips my ankle and kisses it, humming low as his lips drag up the inside of my thigh.
"Now, you can fvck my face."
I gasp again when he drops to his knees, my legs falling with him. I've never met anyone so achingly blunt about sex or what they want. Every word sends thrills down my spine to my core. Every sentence wraps around me and turns me the fuck on. Those thoughts are silenced when he spreads my legs. A chill falls over me, but it lasts just seconds before he runs his tongue along my pvssy. From my opening to my cIit, he moves along me in one long lick. He groans, and I wonder if he knows how hard his fingers are digging into my thighs.
But I don't care. I like it. I more than like it.
He works his tongue, sliding it back and forth across me, slipping it between my folds.
The tip of his tongue flicks as he moves, adding extra pleasure, and my hips move with him. Against him.
I writhe, my hands reaching down to fist his hair and hold him against me. My legs tighten and he pushes his tongue right inside of me. I have no idea what he's doing but it's crazy.
Heat covers me, my body is tight with tension and anticipation, and I need—
His thumb against my cIit, rubbing and pushing, and the release.
My legs clench around his neck as my pussy clamps down on his tongue. I moan loud, trembling as the orgasm rips through me.
He releases me and my legs fall limply down. The sound of a zipper undoing fills the air and I force my head up to see him pulling his pants down.
His underwear follows and his c.ock springs free. Pre-cum glints on the end and I lick my lips. I want to move forward, to take him in my mouth. Taste him.
He smirks and rolls a condom on slowly. I don't know where it came from, but I don't care. His hand slides to the base of his d.ick and he comes back to me, grabbing my hips.
"What-oh!"
He pushes me up the bed, his lips still curved, his eyes never leaving mine. "Lift your legs."
Lift my—what?
He grabs my ankles and rests them on his shoulders. My eyes widen as his cock nudges my opening. His hands grip my thighs as he pushes inside me. I resist, if only because he's bigger than he looks, and reach for him.
He shakes his head and grabs my hands, holding them to the sides, keeping them pinned against the bed. "You don't touch me," he orders huskily. "You lie back and you let me fuck you. But no touching."
I inhale sharply and try to nod, but he slams into me hard and I drop my head back. Fvck. He fills me entirely, his c.ock buried deeply inside me.
"Good. Now I'm going to fvck you and you're going to come, and you're going to come fvcking hard. Understood?"
Holy fvcking hell. "Yes," I breathe, my legs opening to take him further.
His pace is relentless, every pound inside me harder than the last. His balls slap against me and he releases my hands to grab my a.ss.
"Hands on your thighs," he demands, tilting my hips up. I do as he says and grip my thigh as the angle of my hips allows him deeper, further... He spanks me sharply and I cry out loudly at the connection. Then his hand is there, massaging, the softness out of place with how hard he fucks me.
"Like that?" he asks, slapping me again.
My answer is a moan.
I do. I love it.
Every thrust inside me is a rush of heat and building pleasure, each stroke teasing my pussy and making it tighten around him.
"Shit. Come here." He pulls out of me and pulls me up. He sits in the chair next to the bed and like he did in the bar, grabs my a.ss and tugs me on top of him.
My knees settle by his hips, and he releases my a.ss to reach between us and guide himself back inside. My fingers barely brush his chest before he twists them behind my back and holds them together with one hand.
Desire rushes through me as he flexes his hips into me. This is slower but just as hard, and I want to touch him, want to pull him closer, make him move faster, push me over the edge, but I can't.
His hands holding mine means I can do nothing but kneel here and let him fvck me however he wants.
I'm helpless to my pleasure.
I breathe out a series of moans as he fvcks me right. I want to tell him there, right there, don't stop, but all that comes out is a cry of pleasure. His hand connects with my a.ss again and it just makes me hotter, wetter, more needing for the end.
He pulls me forward and drives into me faster. "You have a gorgeous pvssy. Tight and wet. It's perfect," he whispers into my ear. "And you like it rough, don't you, babe? You love it when I spank your arse and fvck you hard, don't you?"
"Yes," I reply, dropping my forehead to his shoulder.
"I can feel you tightening around my c.ock. Do you want to come? You feel like you do. Do you want me to fvck you harder?"
I gasp as he does, fully pushing his hips up. And he moves, faster and harder and deeper.
I tremble and every muscle in my body clenches. Heat, sweet heat, explodes through my veins and I scream. I actually fvcking scream as the orgasm hits and rips through me violently. I clamp down on him, my nails digging into his hand still restraining me. Still he moves, still he pounds, until his own groan mingles with my weakening cries.
It's still pulsing through me as he lifts me off him and sets me on the bed. I can still feel my pvssy clenching weakly, the muscle spasms making the pleasure linger longer than it should.
I drop back on the bed and cover my face with my hand. The bed creaks and dips and he leans over me.
I look into his eyes and he drops his mouth to mine.
"I don't usually say this," he murmurs, kissing along my jaw. "But I'm going to shower, and I wouldn't be annoyed if you were still here after."
He gets up, leaving me staring dumbly after him.
A one-night stand inviting me to stay longer? That's a first.
I stare at the bathroom door long after he disappears, his words echoing through my mind. I wouldn't be annoyed if I was still here when he gets out, either, but I know how bad that is.
One more fvck like that and I might not be able to walk out here by the end of it.
I still don't move.
As much as I should leave, I'd be dumb to walk away from sex this good.
I push myself up and walk to the bathroom. Steam fills the room, and the panes surrounding the large shower in the corner are condensed with heat, tiny water droplets running down.
I pull the shower door open and slip inside. "Do you mind?" I ask when he turns.
"Not at all." He reaches for me, his hand coiling around the back of my neck, and pulls my mouth to his.
I step under the spray of water with him and reach between us for his still-hard c.ock.
I curl my fingers around him and stroke softly, the water acting as a lubricant for the action.
His tongue strokes mine as easily as my hand strokes along his shaft. He grows steadily even harder in my grip, and my body vibrates with the groan he releases. His fingers dig into my neck and my back as I work him.
The hot water sprays over us and my eyes sting as my mascara runs. I squeeze them shut tightly as I realize getting in the shower was a dumb idea. Nobody likes panda eyes.
He lets go of me for a second, stopping the kiss, and I feel a sponge against my eyes.
I release him and laugh, taking it from it to rub my eyes. I open them and he's grinning, looking down at me with amusement and lust mixing in his eyes.
I return his smile and drop the sponge when the sting has gone.
"Better," he murmurs over the thunder of the water, turning and pressing me against the cold wall.
The chill of the ceramic against my hot wet skin sends a jolt through me. His hands slide down my body and he kisses my neck, sucking lightly on my pulse point. I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me.
His c.ock nestles against my center, the hardness teasing my cIit into a dull throb. I drop my hand between us and position his head against me. He pushes up into me, the lingering wetness from my orgasm giving him easy entrance.
He holds me tightly as he fvcks me once more. The slickness of sweat and water on our bodies makes our skin slick together. I'm still tender so I know it won't be long until I release again, until my body convulses and contracts around him.
It hits sooner than I thought. He nips my neck and I cry loudly into his ear as the second orgasm overcomes me. He moves until he reaches his own release and groans into my shoulder.
He holds me against the wall, our chests rising and falling in tandem, for a minute. I take a deep breath and push at his shoulders. My skin is on fire from both the orgasm and his touch.
He has the kind of touch a girl could get used to. One that sends both buzzes and lightning bolts across your skin, igniting pleasure and desire with just a light brush of his fingertips.
And that means I have to get out of here... now.
My stranger releases me and I step around him. I push open the door and step out the shower, reaching for a fluffy towel on the rail attached to the wall. My legs are trembling but that doesn't stop my run out of the bathroom.
I dry myself off harshly. The towel burns my skin with the pressure, and I pull on my wet panties and retrieve my bra from the bed. I clasp it and squeeze my hair with the towel as I search for my dress. I find it on the floor at the other side of the bed and snatch it up. I tug it over my head.
My wet hair sticks to my face but I push it away. My shoes are lying by the sofa. I don't remember them coming off at any point, but they're there. I shove my feet inside them and grab my purse.
The shower is still running, but I pull the door open without a second glance. I leave it to close behind me and escape into the safety of the elevator, away from the man with the sexiest voice I've heard in a long time.
Away from the man whose touched closer to my addiction than anyone has in a long time.
I pull a hair tie from my purse and pull my hair into a scruffy bun at the top of my head. In the lobby, I walk through without the receptionists looking up.
My heart is pounding, my body still coming down from three orgasms in quick succession, but I pay it no mind as I climb into a taxi waiting outside. I don't give a crap who it belongs to. Just that it's there and it's going to get me away from here.
I lean back in the seat as the driver pulls away and blow out a long breath.
Love addictions aren't easy. It's more than just the feeling of being in love. It's everything that goes along with it, and I can't help but want it all. It's a constant war because I know the dangers of the addiction, what it can drive you to.
I know how it can hurt.
I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and finger and count myself lucky I never got his name. I count myself lucky he never got mine.
One look at him and you know he has money—the kind of money that means you could track anyone down if you felt so inclined.
Just like we were when we met two hours ago, we are strangers, brought together by a wild attraction. The only thing that's changed is our knowledge of the other's body.
And now I never have to see him again.