“I’m not about to run off,” I said as we climbed the steps.
“I know, I just want them to know who you belong to,” he said.
He opened the door and ushered me into the lobby, taking my hand as he crossed to the front desk.
“I don’t belong to you,” I murmured.
He accepted the keys from the woman behind the desk and stepped back before speaking. “Try telling me that again tonight after I’ve fucked you until your legs are shaking, baby.”
I gaped at him and he took my hand, a smirk playing around his mouth, and led me toward the elevator. As soon as the doors slid shut, he dropped our luggage and pressed me against the wall, his hard body grinding into my lower stomach. My heart thumped, heat flushing over me, as his mouth moved up my throat. His lips lingered in the valley between my breasts and his tongue flicked out, burning my skin.
“You look so fucking pretty in that dress, baby girl,” he breathed. “What’s underneath?”
“Why don’t you find out?” I said, looking at him from beneath my lids.
He swore under his breath and hit the button for the highest floor, giving us some time alone. Then he knelt on one knee before me, his fingertips skimming up my thighs, and brushed aside the short skirt. His lashes fell as he gazed at the skimpy bit of lace covering my pussy and he bent forward, his perfect mouth barely grazing me.
“Just as pretty as I thought it would be,” he murmured.
“Still doesn’t belong to you,” I teased, pushing down the fabric.
He looked up, his pale eyes glittering. “So this is how it’s going to be then?”
“How is that?”
He bent forward in a swift movement and bit gently into the inside of my thigh, sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth. I squirmed, pleasure shooting up my leg, and dug my fingers into his hair. He sucked hard and I cried out, squirming against him, but his iron grip on my hips kept me still. When he finally drew back, there was an angry purple mark on the inside of my thigh.
“Viktor, someone will see that,” I said, horrified.
He got to his feet and hit the button and the elevator whirred to life. “Good. I want them to.”
I pressed my thighs together, too aroused to be angry with him. “Do you have a voyeurism kink too?”
He smirked, the corner of his lip curling. “Not everything is a kink. You just haven’t noticed the way every man has looked at you since we arrived here. I want them to know who fucks you at night, that you’re mine.”
I tossed my hair. “Well, nobody does currently.”
He touched my shoulder, sliding his hand up to grip the back of my neck. “It’s your last few hours of being able to sass me like that, so enjoy it while you can. Before I fuck it out of you.”
My clit throbbed and he glanced down, clearly enjoying the sight of me pressing my thighs together to dull the ache. The elevator beeped and he gathered the luggage and took my hand, leading me down the lavish hallway.
I was struck dumb by the suite Viktor had booked for us. It looked like something out of a lavish mansion from Europe. The main room had several, overstuffed couches and the large, floor-to-ceiling windows were draped in velvet curtains. Everything was made of expensive material that glittered beneath the chandeliers overhead. I followed my husband across the soft carpet to the bedroom and watched as he unloaded the suitcase.
When our things were put away, he straightened his tie and took me by the waist with one hand and pulled me close. His other hand traveled up my body and cupped my chin.
“I know I tease you a lot, baby,” he said, his pale eyes piercing into me. “But I genuinely want this. Not just this,” he ran his fingers between my breasts, “but all of you. I want all of you tonight.”
I gazed up at him, my pulse pattering. There it was again, that gentle warmth rising in my chest accompanied by a little lump in my throat.
He kissed my forehead and my pussy pulsed hungrily. Why was that somehow sexier than when he touched me between my thighs?
“Let’s go, I’m starving,” he said.
The dining room was dimly lit with round tables set far apart. The hostess led us to a table in a private booth with a bowl filled with simmering flames as a centerpiece. Viktor took me by the arm, his hand on my lower back, and pulled out my chair to help me sit down. Another rush of warmth filled my stomach, sizzling to a throb of desire as he took a seat beside me.
His fingers settled on my thigh as the waiter appeared, ready to take our order.
“What do you want to drink?” Viktor asked, settling his gaze on me.