Hate the Game - Winter Renshaw Page 0,58
heart beats in my ears as he unlocks the hotel room door. We step into a dark void, wrapped in a blanket of icy air that sends a thrill down my spine.
“You sure this is what you want?” he asks as the door floats shut behind us.
“Yes.”
He reaches for a light switch and a small lamp next to the king-sized bed illuminates. The suite is luxurious and contemporary—not your average Peony Falls, Missouri hotel room, and he curls his finger around mine, leading me to the foot of the bed.
Once there, he sits on the edge and pulls me into his lap. The hem of my dress rides up, inviting him to slide his palms up my bare flesh.
Originally I never intended to take things this far with him. It was never supposed to get physical. But then he held me in his arms last night and absorbed my sordid past with zero judgement, and when it was over, he told me he loved me.
And punching Trey at my cousin’s wedding? Well, that was the icing on the cake.
“I love you, Irie,” his words are delivered on cinnamon breath while his hands slide beneath my dress until he finds my panties. His movements are slow, deliberate. I don’t know why I expected the first time with him to be animalistic. Of course it wouldn’t be—the man is going to savor me, savor this moment.
Talon shrugs out of his suit jacket and leans back on the bed. I climb over him as he slides my panties down to my ankles, tossing them aside. A moment later, his hands cup my ass and he pulls me against him, my bare sex rocking against the outline of his throbbing cock that grows harder by the second.
I slide my dress over my shoulders and his hands travel up my back until he reaches the clasp of my strapless bra. Within seconds it’s gone, vanished into the dark void of the hotel room.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says, sitting up and taking a pert nipple between his lips as his hands continue to explore this newfound territory. He stops to kiss me, his tongue fondling mine, and a minute later he flips me to my back, crawling over my naked body. His mouth presses hot kisses against my collarbone, working his way between my breasts before traveling down my stomach, which caves against his touch. The faintest hint of his five o’clock shadow tickles my sensitive skin, and I reach down to run my fingers through his hair as I get comfortable.
A moment later, he’s kissing my inner thigh, moving closer and closer to the ache between my legs. Closing my eyes, I sink into the mattress, my body overcome with tiny earthquakes as the heat of his breath centers on the one place I want it most.
When the flick of his tongue dances across my seam, I let out a sigh, gripping a handful of sheets. He teases a finger down my slit before taking another taste, and another. With his corded steel arms hooked around my thighs, he pulls me closer to the edge of the bed, lowering himself to his knees and making a meal out of me.
I’m flushed with arousal, high as a kite on anticipation as he devours me, taking his time and bringing me to the edge and back more times than I can count.
It’s getting harder to fight the wave that wants to wash over me, each peak growing more intense than the one before. Finally I reach below, placing my hand over his, and I release a surrendered breath.
His heat leaves my thighs and he rises over me, his hand moving to his belt. I sit up to help him, my fingers tugging on his zipper, my hands grazing the swollen bulge in his suit pants. He lowers his mouth against mine, depositing a biting kiss that tastes like my arousal and his sweet tongue all at once.
My heart ricochets as I take his veined cock in my hands a moment later, pumping the length as he stares deep into my eyes. A second later, I bring myself to the floor, the hotel carpet rough against my knees, and I take him in my mouth.
Talon moans, his hands making fists in my hair, and I take him deeper, faster.
“I can’t wait another fucking minute, Irie,” he says.
I wipe the corner of my mouth, gazing up at him.
“I have to have you.” He takes my hand, helping me