All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,207

I need to get her inside and check her over before her hour is up. Heaven knows I don’t need her shouting as I bring her into the hotel.

As I enter the lobby, I make sure not to make eye contact with anyone. Instead, I loudly mutter nonsense about her not holding her alcohol. Hopefully that will keep the suspicion down. I don’t have too far to walk. Definitely a bonus with this hotel. Within moments, I get to the elevator doors and hold my special key against the panel. I don’t even have to press any buttons. It takes me exactly where I need to go.

The doors open into my foyer and I take my precious cargo over to the nearby sofa. Better she wakes up here instead of a bed. There’s no way I can think of to convince her I didn’t take advantage of her.

Easing her down, I take a moment to gaze at her face. A light smattering of freckles sweeps across her cheeks and over her nose. They’re simply adorable. Using the pad of my thumb, I brush over them and trail down towards her lips. Such lovely, luscious lips. Too bad she uses them to say all the wrong things.

I chuckle as I slide my thumb across before dipping it inside her mouth. Groaning, I inch my digit in and out several more times before pulling out completely. What was this about me not taking advantage? I’ve got to get my head back into the game. Leaving her face, I skim my palms down her arms before raising them above her head. A dark, red stain mars her side, and my heart rises in my throat. How did I not know she was injured?

Leaning close, I examine the wound, relief flooding through me as the scent of wine fills my nose. Not injured, then. Keeping her hands above her head, I continue my exploration, trying to be as clinical as possible. However, my cock has other plans. With each touch of skin, scrape of fabric, I’m getting more and more aroused. What does that say about me? She’s basically unconscious, and I’m getting a hard on.

I continue my trek down her body, my fingers touching, kneading, moving across her hips and thighs until I get to her ankles. Such small, delicate ankles. Lifting her feet, I remove one shoe, then the other. The soles are worn, almost all the way through. Frowning, I drop them down onto the carpet and really look at what she’s wearing. Everything is clean, except for the stain on the shirt, but still pretty threadbare. The only thing that looks even remotely new is the corset cinching her waist tight.

Frowning, I ease her over, prepared to remove it. There’s no way it could feel comfortable on her right now. As I reach into the laces, a tag slips out, still attached. Usually people only keep the tags on things they plan on returning. I ease the laces out, taking care to not mar the outfit. It takes a few minutes, but the laces are loose enough for me to slide the corset down and over her hips. The moment the corset loosens off of her, Dahlia takes a huge breath. Just as I thought. As I pass her feet, I ease them through the garment and place them back on the couch. The corset goes to the top of the couch, and I go back to my examination of her.

Beginning where I left off, I trail my fingers back across her hips, frowning every time my fingers come across a tiny hole or worn area. A woman this beautiful should be clothed in silks, not clothes that are a few months away from being unusable. Shaking my head, I smooth my fingers down her legs, allowing myself a small bit of indulgence as I glide my fingers over her feet. Watching her face, I dig my thumb into her left arch, elated when she lets out a small groan.

A large smile splits my face as I continue to work her feet, her squirms and moans spurring me on. Glancing back up, I notice a bit of fang peeking out through her open lips. Reality slams back into me. I know nothing about this woman, and yet I’m taking liberties with her.

I drop her feet and head back up to her mouth. Pretty soon, she’ll be waking back up, and it won’t help my cause if I’ve got my hands