A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,27
you deep inside me. I don’t want a quickie. I want to be driven mad with lust as you fuck me to the edge of pleasure. And that’s going to take more than thirty minutes.”
His eyes are drunk with desire, dark with lust. “A lot more than thirty minutes.”
“But my calculations indicate we have just enough time for other things.” I lower my voice. “Plenty of time for me to get on my knees and suck you off. Shall we go?”
Fitz scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, his voice hoarse. “You’re killing me. You are the sexiest man I’ve ever met. You know that, right?”
People say things in the heat of the moment, but he looks like he means it.
“I suspect it’ll be hard for you to walk right now. Why don’t I go ahead and I’ll meet you in the lobby, and you can think about tea cakes or the queen or something on the way over?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Don’t care. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
He pays the bill and rises, an impressive impression in his trousers.
Well, I’m not complaining about that.
In the hotel, the elevator doors close, and we crash into each other. Fitz pushes me to the wall and kisses me hard. “You wind me up, make me feel wild,” he murmurs when he breaks the kiss.
“You want me to drive you wild.”
“I do, Dean. I really do.”
This confirmation is necessary. Necessary for me. I need this verbal upper hand with him. It keeps me safe, protects me from the storm. Because it’s a powerful one with Fitz, and part of me wants to be pulled into the eye of it.
A minute later, he slams the door of his room shut, and we collide. His hands are on my face, and mine are on his trousers, gripping his erection through the fabric.
Fitz groans his appreciation, then drops his hands to the hem of my shirt, tugging at it. We separate, and I unbutton it quickly, jerking it away as we toe off shoes and socks. Then I yank him toward me again, kissing him hard and rough, the way I know he likes it already. I walk him to the bed, stroking his insistent hard-on as I go, savoring the hot, hard length of him. He undoes his shirt, and I want to spend hours admiring his ink, tracing each tattoo with my tongue, but there will be time for that later. We reach the edge of the mattress, and I grab the zipper of his trousers, needing to get them off him right fucking now. “All right, Mr. Rules Are Made to Be Broken, let’s see if your money is where your mouth is,” I taunt.
Fitz laughs. “Oh, I think your mouth will like it all.”
When I strip off his clothes, boxer briefs too, my eyes don’t just like what I see. My entire fucking body craves it.
His cock salutes me, thick, hard, and eager to make my acquaintance. My palm reaches for him, curling around his shaft. The second I touch him, I’m rewarded with a throaty gasp, the sound of his lust sending a sharp jolt of pleasure down my spine.
“You drive me crazy,” he rasps out.
“Yes, I can tell.” I squeeze his dick, grinning as I run my hand along its length. I savor the feel of his arousal and the noises he makes too, as I indulge in the rush of touching him.
“So fucking crazy that you need to get down on your knees right the hell now.”
I arch a brow. “Oh, I do, do I?”
“You want to,” Fitz corrects as he pumps his hips, thrusting into my hand, so damn eager for me. His lust is like a drug, and I want another hit of it, of him. “You know you want to, Dean.”
With my other hand, I give his balls a squeeze, then I drop my hand to my length, steel under my clothes. “Hmm. What do you know? Seems I do.”
He narrows his eyes and sinks onto the bed, jerking me to the floor, keeping my hand on his cock the entire time. Spreading his legs, he grabs my jaw, bringing me closer.
I’d like to take him in my mouth right now. Draw him to the back of my throat and show him what I can do to him. Almost as if I want to punish him with pleasure for making me break this one rule. As if I want