“I’m going to come already,” he said, cutting right through her haze. “I can’t watch you come apart like that. I need to go fast. Relax everything except your grip around my hand.”
She held him tightly, biting her lip as he pulled out of her slowly. She was immediately empty without him.
He took her arm. “Come. Up. Hurry.”
He couldn’t get her off the bed and into the bathroom fast enough. He ran one hand over his cock as he flipped on the shower and tested the water with his hand.
“In,” he commanded.
She got under the water before him. He hugged her from behind, grasping her breasts and sucking a spot under her ear. Her hair slickened. He was insistently hard against her backside. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you, Lola.”
She fumbled with the hotel soap and threw the plastic wrapper on the ground. After lathering it, she turned around and took him in her hand.
“Ah,” he gasped up at the ceiling. “Lola.”
She cleaned him, rubbed him, worked him with two hands and still couldn’t feel all of him at once. When she looked up, he was also watching. Water dripped from his hair, down his nose.
“You’re sexy,” she whispered.
His eyes jumped to hers.
“I don’t think I ever told you because I’m supposed to hate you,” she said, “but you’re so handsome it hurts. And so sexy.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “You—”
“No,” she said. “This is about you.”
She climbed his cock with both her hands, one after the other, faster and faster. He made an expression she’d never seen on a person, something almost pained. But neither of them looked away. He leaned in, took her mouth with his and lifted her by her ass. He pressed her back up against the shower wall with the force of his kiss.
“Ma lumiére,” he said hotly in her ear as he searched for her with his hand. He found her slick and teased her opening with his cock before entering her. “It means my light. So sweet, so soft, you are the light in my world tonight.”
Her fingertips did everything but consume his textured jaw, his pliant hair, his wide, hard back and tensed shoulder blades. She was forced to stop touching to hang around his neck when his thrusts came too fast and out of control. The shower steamed over as hot water rained against his back and her limbs around him. She was warm everywhere except for her back, which slipped and slid over the cold marble.
“I’m going to come,” he said, a hint of a growl in his voice. “Kiss me.”
She drew back and let herself be devoured as he took her in every way. He thrust deep and came with his mouth on hers and his fingers denting her ass cheeks.
He removed one hand and ran it between them, gliding it over her wet skin and taking her breast in his hand. He released her to touch her clit.
“I can’t, not again,” she whimpered. She was raw, sore, used, but his deft fingers relentlessly rubbed her. She put her head back against the wall and gasped up at the ceiling.
He kissed along her neck and the underside of her jaw, running a course up to her ear and finding his way back to her mouth.
She could, and she did—she constricted her arms around him with all her strength as her orgasm roiled through her.
They breathed hard, he into her shoulder, she into his damp hair. Even when she became aware she was still clinging to him, she didn’t loosen her grip. From start to finish, it had been too good to be true. She was afraid if she let go, he’d disappear.
“Lola,” he whispered eventually. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head against his neck.
“Say something. Anything.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I just gave you everything.”
He stroked her hair with his hand, pressed his lips to the same spot, to her temple then her cheek until they were mouth to mouth again. He let the wall take her weight and kissed her like he did everything else—unforgiving, firm, but with attention to every detail.
She’d thought he couldn’t possibly possess her any more after their first night, but each time he was inside her, they became even closer. Her chest stuttered, and her eyes welled. She didn’t want to stop the kiss—she wouldn’t let him see her cry. She was overwhelmed, and it clouded her mind. Whatever was making her feel this way wouldn’t be fought off. Was it love? It wasn’t the same thing she had with Johnny, so she couldn’t be sure.
She pulled back anyway, needing to see his eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, blinking his wet lashes.
She hated to lose his green even for that second. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “How do you do it?” She ran her thumb over the corner of his eye. “Are you like this with everyone?”
“No,” he said, all his severity in that one word.
“Why me?”
“Why you, Lola? When I see inside you, it always feels like the first time.”
“You can see inside me?” she asked.
“Can’t you feel me there?”
She knew she should look away. Immediately. When had they crossed into this territory? He was gaining traction where he never should’ve been in the first place. If she didn’t stop him now, he’d only sink his claws in deeper. She had to give in or fight back. Beau wouldn’t allow anything in between. She could no longer stand anything in between.
Her heart pounded as if magnetized to the thumping organ directly across from it. Her teeth fretted against her bottom lip.
Could she feel him there? Like a thunderstorm.
She pulled him back into the kiss and gave him anything she had left. She told him with her kiss what she couldn’t with her words—Beau had her. Body, heart and soul.
11
The city still stood, even though Lola’s world had shifted. She was thankful for the bedroom balcony that gave her what she needed in that moment—fresh air. Fresh perspective. Whatever was in that room, it was getting to her.
How could she have let herself get so wrapped up in Beau? Johnny had said since she’d already done this once, a second time wouldn’t be a big deal. How foolish they had been. This time was an even bigger deal—this time, Beau demanded more from her and she was hardly putting up a fight. Because she no longer had the desire to. What had she bitingly told Beau in the beginning?