~2

Quinn

I couldn't believe it was happening.

I was on my way to having a one-morning stand. If there was a word like that.

With this dashing sentinel of mine.

The low hum of the elevator blended with my thoughts as I watched him from the corner of my eye.

He stood quietly a few feet away. He hadn't said a word to me since we got here. Not even a single touch. Did he not agree to fuck me?

I shivered at the memory of the look in his eyes when I shamelessly demanded a taste of him. “I don't sleep with women, love. I fuck them. But you…I want to flip you every which way until you're screaming for more.”

Those words in coffee-whiskey voice kept replaying in my head, filling my mind with images of being flipped like a paper on this man's bed.

It was hard to look at him for a full, long minute without struggling to breathe. He was…perfect.

“You're staring.”

I coughed and looked away, my face burning hot.

“Don't worry,” the tease in his voice was unmistakeable, “it's rude not to stare. It’s me.”

Oh, cocky.

The elevator stopped and I started to shuffle out when he grabbed my arm and pulled me flush against his chest, his large hand spreading across the small of my back.

My heart clashed against my ribcage, but I managed to stay still.

“There's no going back once we go in there. I'm really going to fuck you. Hard.”

I swallowed a gulp, wishing that my face didn't burn so hot. “I know that.”

“But you don't look like you have the stomach for it.”

I didn't feel the burn just in my face anymore. I felt it deep in my chest. “You can't judge a book by its cover. Why don't we find out what I can stomach, now I'm here?”

His lips curled up in a smirk, and my heart sank.

He spanked my ass next, startling me. “Come in, then.”

We walked into the living room of the penthouse, all luxury and deep masculine energy. The floors were neatly polished, the walls immaculate white and glistening under the bright lights that blinked on.

“You live here?”

“Sometimes. Make yourself comfortable.”

He disappeared for a moment and returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Wide research has proven Sauvignon is the best when it comes to relaxing.” He handed me a glass and lifted his own to me in silent cheers.

I took a sip, painfully aware of his eyes on me from above the rim of his glass. He stared so pointedly and unapologetically, those gray eyes drilling holes in me that only him could fill up.

The silence stretched for awkward, longer minutes. I felt obliged to do something about it.

“So,” I cleared my throat, “what do you do? I-I don't even know your name.”

He drained his glass in one long gulp and set it down. Then he lifted his arms and pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

I almost choked on the wine.

“We're not here for small talk, love.”

He closed the distance and slipped his arm around my waist just as my eyes widened in surprise.

“I—”

The words fell back down my gut as he leaned in, all masculine sweat and spice, and kissed me. It was so close, my heart racing so fast and hard. But he'd only kissed the corner of my lip where the wine had spilled. So why did it feel so good?

I tilted my head, sighing in pleasure that couldn't be helped, as he kissed his way down my neck. A groan rumbled low and deep in his throat as he reached the swell of my breasts, his rough stubble tickling the hairs on my skin.

I was leaning all the way into him now, lost in the ecstasy of his lips and how good it felt grazing my skin.

In a split second, his hands fell away and he moved back. Gray eyes pinned me in place, burning bright with liquid fire.

“Take your clothes off.”

My hands moved without hesitation, almost tearing at every piece of clothing shielding me from the gaze of this man.

I stood naked, in only my panties. I was hot all over. Hot and needy for him. It was a kind of need that seared between my legs. I was sore and slick already, leaking down my thighs.

He moved towards me, his eyes darkening as they fell on my breasts. He leaned down and gripped my ass as he bit my neck. I moaned as a white-hot sensation shot up my spine, my core thrumming with need.

He tugged my panties off my ass and let it go with a snap, and a gasp tore past my lips.

“Why do you still have this on? You want me to fuck you with your panties on?”

“N-No…I..”

“Is that more fun for you?”

I hooked my fingers in the cotton fabric and slowly pushed it down, swaying from the pleasure that washed through me as my wetness rubbed against it.

The second the fabric hit the floor, his hand was between my legs, driving my thighs apart and cupping my sex with a need that drove me wilder.

“Good girl. You're ready for me, ain't you?”

A moan tore past my throat, my eyes rolling back in my head as he stroked my clit with all five fingers.

I never knew a man's touch could be this intoxicating. It had always been different with my boyfriend.

He grabbed me close with his other hand and closed his mouth over a nipple.

A cry of pleasure eased past my lips as he swirled his tongue around the swollen bud.

The shrill ringing of a telephone somewhere in the house, sliced through the passionate moment.

But that wasn't what surprised me.

This beautiful stranger did.

He jerked away from my breast and shoved me like I burned him. A shadow fell across his face as he looked towards the ringing phone, which was on the wall just across the room.

I stood frozen as he walked over and grabbed the receiver. Then his voice dropped to a hush, his expression so dead serious I feared something might have happened.

He looked so different from the man that had saved me, the one that had made me hot and wet just seconds ago.

The hushed whispers became more fierce, and he suddenly rammed his fist into the wall, startling me. “Don't you dare question my orders, Vale. Bring the bastard to me.”

He slammed the receiver against the wall.

“Get dressed.” He yanked his shirt off the floor and started towards the door.

I stood there, my jaw hanging open. “What?”

He turned and stared at me with strangely cold gray eyes. “We're done here.”