I'm going to rip this fucking room apart if I don't know what she feels like wrapped around my cock as soon as humanly possible.
I shove the keycard into the lock and then yank it out. The lock disengages.
"Inside," I growl, unlatching the door and pushing it open for her.
She stumbles inside the suite without a word. I stalk her, not letting her put a single fucking inch of distance between us. She's had two weeks. That's all she's getting.
"Tell me about the security features, Francesca." I don't give a fuck about the security features. I just want to hear this goddess speak to me.
"I've already told you about them, Ryker," she says, as defiant as ever. Her voice trembles faintly, but she holds her ground. "It's called locks. And if you feel extra fancy, you can drag that armoire over to block the door."
"Seven."
"Stop counting!" Her eyes flash with a curious mix of desire, distress, and frustration.
"Stop giving me reasons to turn that perfect ass red."
"You are not spanking me. Hell will..."
I've heard enough. Seen enough. This girl is mine, and it's about damn time she knows it, too.
I drop the basket, dragging her into my arms as it crashes to the floor. My mouth slants down on hers, cutting off her fierce denial.
She doesn't fight me. She doesn't even try. With a sob of relief, she plasters her body against mine, letting me drown in her. And fuck. It's the sweetest goddamn death. She tastes like candy and feels like sin as her hands fly to my hair.
Mine drift down her body, grabbing her ass. I knead her cheeks, my damn palms itching to feel them turning red beneath them.
I back her up against the door, growling against her sugar lips. My hard cock nestles against her stomach, letting her know exactly what her smart mouth does to me.
"Ryker," she moans, clutching handfuls of my hair.
Ah, goddamn. Now that's a sound I want to hear her make again.
I don't get the chance.
My damn phone rings, a drum solo blaring into the room from my pocket.
Francesca jerks in my arms, ripping her mouth from mine. Her wide, dazed eyes meet mine, her lips swollen from my kisses.
"Fuck," I growl, reaching for my phone to silence it.
"Move," Francesca says.
"Sunshine."
"Move, Ryker," she growls, something wild in her eyes.
I step back, giving her space.
She fucking bolts like a frightened rabbit, ripping the door open and throwing herself out of it. It slams behind her hard enough to rattle the art on the wall.
"Fuck," I groan.
I'm killing my twin. Just as soon as I convince Francesca to marry me.
* * *
Convincing her to marry me will be easier said than done. By the time I get back down to the lobby, she's gone for the night.