Flame - Erin Noelle Page 0,8
as I paw at his plaid button-down shirt with one hand and the other brushes over the crotch of his cargo shorts.
Gasps from the female side of the lobby can be heard clear as day, as well as longing groans from the men, both of which fuel my inappropriate public display of affection more. Sucking and nipping on the lobe of his ear, I continue to stroke my hand up and down his swelling cock, making no attempt to hide what I’m doing.
“You’re being extra naughty today,” Rory murmurs gruffly as his arms coil around my waist, holding me close to him.
“The viewing gallery wanted a show, so I’m giving it to them,” I whisper, not stopping my ministrations. “Plus, I’m really fucking horny.”
Shaking his head, a chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating against my own. “I’m not sure the viewing gallery can handle one of your shows. You’re going to make that poor grandpa at the bar have a heart attack.”
“Grandpa will be fine. All he needs is—”
The ding of the elevator cuts my thought short, and before I can say or do anything else, Rory grabs my hand and drags me into the empty lift. His mouth is on mine the second the mirrored doors come together, separating us from the group of high-brow voyeurs and neither of us attempt to come up for air until we’re stopped at our destination.
Rushing to our room, our heavy breaths the only sound in the narrow hallway, I quickly forget about everything but the raw ache between my legs and the one thing that can soothe it. Rory hastily slides the key card through the lock, and the second the green light flashes, he throws open the door and we collapse inside.
Articles of clothing fly through the air before the lock clicks shut behind us. With his eyes clouded with desperation and pure hunger, he tosses me on the bed on my stomach then positions himself on his knees between my spread thighs. Eight weeks is a long fucking time to go without sex, and I’m willing to bet it’s been just as long for him.
Grabbing my hips, he pulls my ass up into the air so that it’s perfectly aligned with his steeled shaft. As I watch him roll a condom on from over my shoulder, I prepare myself for a rough, demanding fucking. Exactly like I like it.
No words are exchanged as he enters me, nor is eye contact made. Burying my face in the mattress, I grip the sheets and brace myself as he thrusts into me over and over again, his hips beating a staccato rhythm against my ass. I close my eyes and focus on the overwhelming pleasure building fast and furiously in my core; however, the only image that appears behind my tightly shut lids involves the cocky-mouthed, drop-dead gorgeous guy from Ember earlier this evening. The more I think about him, the clearer the indecent vision becomes, the closer I get to my release, until I’m soaring in my orgasmic high thinking only of faded Levi jeans and thick chestnut hair I’d like to bury my fingers in.
Rory finds his climax with a muffled yell, and once we’ve both recuperated, round two ensues, followed by three and four, each time feeling more and more impersonal. The bed, the Jacuzzi tub, and the chaise lounge all see plenty of action until physical exhaustion takes over. The last thing I remember as I struggle to keep my eyelids open is Rory’s phone ringing and his muffled voice as he accepts the call.
I’m not sure if it’s the knock at the door or the sound of a male voice calling out, “Room service” that disturbs my exceptionally peaceful sleep, but either way, the first thing I realize when I wake up stark naked, tangled in the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets, is that I’m alone. Strangely, Rory and all his stuff are gone. He’s never been one to bolt in the middle of the night, usually sticking around for a morning shower romp prior to going our separate ways, but before I can replay the events of last night in my mind to figure out what happened, the rapping on the door returns.
“Miss Shavell, room service, ma’am,” the hotel attendant repeats, a bit louder this time.
“One minute,” I call back as I scramble out of bed and snag my dress from yesterday off the floor then slip it over my head.
Hurrying to let him in, the amused