5: Kisses in the back of the Car

Carmen's POV

I kissed him back with fervour while having my hand on the back of his neck to pull him into me. My mouth was on his like it was the only thing I had been thinking about for the last hour. There was no pause and no performance and the kiss was deep and hungry and nothing like the ones at the bar. Those had been for the room. This one was just for us.

His hand slid around my waist and the sound he made against my mouth was low and rough and I felt it in my chest. The partition was already up, dark glass sealing us off from everything, and the rest of Madrid could have disappeared and I would not have noticed.

I climbed into his lap. My dress rode up my thighs and his hands were on my hips instantly, fingers pressing hard enough to send heat rushing through my stomach. I could feel him getting harder underneath me with every movement and I rolled my hips against him deliberately and he groaned into my mouth while his grip tightened on me like a reflex.

"Careful," he murmured.

"You seem pretty calm to me."

He laughed and the sound was wrecked. "I am trying very hard to behave right now."

I rolled my hips again, slower this time, pressing down against his arousal through his trousers, and his head dropped back against the seat. His jaw clenched and a sound left him that was pure desperation. His hands moved to my waist and gripped hard, pulled me down against him and held me there, both of us grinding slow and deliberate, the friction building between us through layers of fabric that suddenly felt unbearable.

Russell had spent months making me feel forgettable. Too plain. Too ordinary to obsess over. This man was hard underneath me and losing his composure one breath at a time because I moved my hips.

I pressed down harder and his eyes closed. He swore quietly and his hips lifted to meet mine, and for a moment we were just moving together in the dark back seat, grinding against each other like two people who couldn't wait long enough to get inside. His breathing was ragged and his hands were everywhere; my waist, my hips, my thighs, pulling me closer, pressing me down, and every time I found the right angle he made a sound that sent heat flooding through me.

"Patience, my lady," he managed, catching my hips and slowing me down. His voice was shaking. He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against my knuckles.

"I don't want patience."

"I know." His forehead rested against mine. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"I can feel exactly what I'm doing to you."

He exhaled a rough laugh. His thumb traced my bottom lip and he watched my mouth.

"When we get upstairs," he said, voice low, "I'm carrying you through that door. I've been thinking about picking you up since you turned around on that bar stool."

"And then?"

"Then I'm taking that dress off you. So slowly you'll beg me to go faster."

I felt my thighs tighten around him and he noticed instantly. He brought his hands to my things and moved them away so I could no longer tighten them around him.

“Don’t press those thighs together, keep them open for me baby” he teased.

“What are you going to do once we get upstairs?” I asked, desperate to hear all that he would do to me.

"I’m going to fuck you until the only thing you can think of is my dick inside of you, just like you requested earlier”I let out a low gasp and leaned closer. My breathing was ragged.

“And trust me, I’m going to make you come so hard that no man could ever match up to my pace”

The arrogance! This man is something else.

I kissed him because I didn't know what else to do with what was building inside me and his mouth was hot and desperate against mine and his hands were in my hair and I was grinding against him again, unable to stop, the heat between us unbearable now. His hips moved with mine and his breathing was ragged as he groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my entire body.

"Gosh, I need you inside me already!"

He smiled and brought his hand to my chin. "Calm down, Querida. I will do that soon."

The moment the car stopped, he gently lifted me up from his laps and put me on the seat, got out and held his hand out for me. 

The lobby was polished stone and soft lighting but I registered none of it because his hand was on my lower back the whole way to the lift. The doors closed and he pulled me against him and kissed me hard enough to press my back into the mirrored wall. I caught our reflection, lips swollen, dress hiked up, his hands in my hair. I looked like a woman being completely taken apart by a man who couldn't keep his hands off her.

He pulled back with his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard.

"You are making it very difficult for me to take my time tonight."

"Maybe I don't want you taking your time."

His jaw tightened. When he looked at me again there was nothing left in his face except hunger.

The lift opened into his penthouse. City lights through wide windows, Madrid spread out below. I had two seconds to register any of it before he bent and lifted me into his arms, bridal style, exactly as he had promised.

A surprised laugh left me and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"You actually meant it."

"I meant every word," he said, and his voice was rough, like he had finally reached the end of what his restraint could hold.

He carried me down the hall and set me on the edge of his bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and I saw his body for the first time. The athlete's build was better uncovered than anything I had imagined. Defined chest, broad shoulders, narrow waist, stomach flat and cut, skin warm golden brown in the low light. My goodness, I want to fuck this guy immediately!

I put my hands on his stomach and felt the muscle tighten. I ran my palms up his chest and a sound left him, quiet and involuntary, and his hand came into my hair.

"Turn around," he said.

I turned. His fingers found the zip and he pulled it down slowly, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed, my shoulder blade, the centre of my back, the base of my spine. He eased the dress off and I heard him exhale behind me, long and shaky.

He turned me around and looked at me and his expression was raw and open, every trace of composure gone, replaced by hunger and something close to reverence.

"God," he whispered.

I pulled him down to me.