The town is small enough that it’s in walking distance from the bar, but we keep getting held up as we stop to kiss and grope at each other like horny teenagers. The only thing keeping me from dragging him into another alley and demanding he fuck me right there is the fact that I want more room to maneuver. I want to be able to see him naked—every single damn inch of him—and that’s harder to accomplish in a dingy alley than it is in a hotel room with a door.
The door in question almost comes off its hinges when we burst into the hotel room like a hurricane, and Kian slams it shut with so much force that I swear I hear the wood crack. But the integrity of a hotel room door is the furthest thing from my mind now that I’ve got what I want.
Kian. Alone.
We crash through the room in a chaotic tangle of limbs, running into walls and practically knocking over a dresser as our hands roam hungrily over each other’s bodies, lips locked in a kiss that doesn’t allow for such trivial things as oxygen. I grab the hem of his shirt and tug it off over his head before dragging my fingernails down the sculpted ridges of his abs. He growls, a sound that’s somewhere between a warning and a noise of pure pleasure. When I start fumbling with his pants, he yanks my hands away and then peels my dress off in one smooth motion.
It’s no fucking fair, because that was the only article of clothing I had on besides my shoes, and now I’m naked and he’s not. I’m about to whine my displeasure, but the sound morphs into a yelp as he picks me up and tosses me onto my back on the bed. I toe off my shoes, and he kicks them under the bed as he approaches, shoving his pants down over his hips. His cock juts out from his body, as hard and thick as it was before I put my mouth on it not that long ago. I want to make some comment about his stamina, but I seem to have lost the power of speech again.
The curtains are open, allowing ambient light to spill into the room, but I suddenly wish we’d thought to turn on a light when we first crashed into the room. I can see him pretty well in the low light, but everything I see just makes me want to study him in more depth. I want to memorize every damn detail, because I’m pretty sure it would fill up my spank bank for the rest of my life.
His waist is lean and muscled, and with the way the shadows fall over his washboard abs, I can count every single ridge on them. His torso broadens out into a wide chest, with muscular shoulders and arms covered in the tattoos I got a peek of earlier.
He’s… breathtaking.
Gorgeous.
Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
And that’s saying something, considering that a lot of shifter males are muscular and attractive. But Kian? There’s something about him that makes my pussy clench just looking at him. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me like he can guess every single thought in my head and likes what he’s seeing. Maybe it’s the way he crawls up onto the bed with me and spreads my legs without a moment’s hesitation, like a hunter claiming his prize.
His strong fingers dig into my thighs, and he presses my legs so wide that my muscles ache from the stretch. Then he drops his head and slides his tongue through my folds. He ends on my clit, flattening his tongue so that it drags over the sensitive nub in a way that makes me quiver.
“You taste even better than you smell,” he mutters, not even bothering to stop lapping at me as he speaks.
He nips at my clit as if I taste so good that he’s tempted to eat me up, and my thigh muscles clench as my legs instinctively try to wrap around his head. He lets out another low growl and presses them apart again, pinning me in place as he takes his time sliding his tongue up and over and around my clit until pleasure is burning through my veins like kerosene.
Despite his tight grip on me, I writhe beneath him as much as I’m able to, my hips shifting on the bed as my breath comes in short gasps.
I’m close.
So fucking close.
I’m about to come all over his face—
—when he stops.
A strangled sound pours from my lips as I wrench my head off the bed to look down at him. He licks his lips, then drags a hand over his chin, his glittering eyes finding mine in the darkness.
“Don’t come until I give you permission,” he says in that deep fucking voice of his.
My eyebrows shoot up, and I’m about to ask what the hell he’s talking about when he hooks his arms under my knees to drag me closer to him, then drives into me with a single hard thrust.
Whatever I was going to say turns into a scream as my body reacts to the intrusion, my pussy walls clenching hard around him as every nerve ending in my body lights up. The deep, burning pleasure of an orgasm starts to build in my core, and Kian’s large hand wraps around my throat.
It’s not tight enough to cut off my air supply entirely, but it’s enough pressure to send my pulse skyrocketing, and the shock of it halts my orgasm in its tracks.
“I said don’t come until I tell you to,” he murmurs roughly. “It’ll be better. Trust me.”
His cock is still buried to the hilt inside me, but he doesn’t move—as if he knows that even a single thrust right now will send me over the edge. I stare up at him, my throat convulsing beneath his palm as I swallow hard. I’m hovering right at the precipice, so close, so fucking desperate to come.
But some part of me wants what he’s promising more.
Some part of me wants to give over to him entirely.
To let this man control my pleasure.
So I suck in a breath through my nose, letting my nostrils flare wide as I fill my lungs. I breathe out on a shaky exhale as my core squeezes his cock again, my toes curling as I fight back the pleasure that hovers in every corner of my body like a tsunami waiting to strike.