CHAPTER THREE

GWEN POV

Three glasses of fabulous wine later, we left the bar. As soon as we stepped outside, we found heavy, wet snow falling in big, sloppy clumps.

“Ugh. My old car won’t make it home in this,” I groaned, thinking of my beat-up jalopy.

Nolan looked up toward the dark sky, letting a few wet flakes land on his face. He didn't seem bothered by the cold, only thoughtful. “I can drive you. My car is built for this kind of weather.”

“Nah. It’ll be okay. I’ll just drive slow.” I started to walk toward the parking lot.

He stepped quickly in front of me, blocking my path with his solid body. “That’s not good enough,” he said, his tone turning into a command I felt deep in my bones. His hand reached up and gently pushed my hair from my face, his fingers brushing over my cheek. The contact sent a bolt of pure, unwanted thrill through me.

Our eyes locked. His green eyes were darker now, almost a deep amber in the low light, and they held a weird intensity. He let out a low, nervous-sounding laugh, though his eyes looked anything but nervous. “I find myself not wanting the evening to end, Gwen.”

“Funny. Me neither,” I heard myself say, and I realized I had said it out loud.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and his face was so close I could feel his breath—warm and smelling faintly of scotch—on my skin.

“Why are you looking at my mouth like that?” I asked, my voice thin.

“I’ve been looking at your mouth all night,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I’ve wondered what it would be like to taste your lips. I’ve wondered if you taste as sweet as your fear smells.”

“My fear?” I squeaked, confused and suddenly terrified. That couldn’t be true, how could he even tell?

“Yes. You have a scent, Gwen, a very strong, sweet scent. A scent that makes me want to pull you close.” He paused, before speaking yet again.  “I suppose I seem like an old ogre to you.”

I swallowed, the intense wave of energy between us almost hurting. I knew what lust was, but this felt like something else entirely—a deep connection to a perfect stranger. And he was perfect. And a stranger.

“No. Not an ogre,” I managed.

He laughed again, a dark, rich sound. “But old?” He pressed his finger over my lips, silencing me. “Don’t answer that. The snow is getting heavier. I'm going to taste you now, Gwen. Right here.”

“Okay,” I breathed, completely lost.

And just like that, his lips settled on mine. A sudden, wild heat blasted through me, stronger than anything I’d ever felt. My body felt like it was standing in the middle of a hot summer day, not freezing on a snowy night. I moaned as his lips swept over mine. They were soft at first, but his kiss grew firm, then demanding, like he was staking a claim. His arm banded around me, pulling me hard against his body. I gasped at the feel of his erection—hard and significant through both our coats and layers of clothing.

“I’d like to get you on your ass again,” he murmured against my lips, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, which were wide with desire. “Only this time, without those clothes. And with your permission.”

My lower body clenched hard in a silent, powerful ‘yes, please.’ I gripped his expensive coat, feeling like my world was spinning away. I knew I shouldn't go with this man and let him have his devilish way with me, but I couldn't seem to stop the words.

“You think it crazy?” he asked, his lips trailing along my jaw, making it impossible to think.

“Well . . . uh . . .”

“We could get a room in the hotel over there. Wait out the storm. We could have room service dinner and that’s all, or we could engage in more carnal activities,” he suggested, his green eyes glowing in the dark. 

“I am hungry,” I admitted. Warning bells were clanging in my head, but they sounded very far away.

“Then let’s get you some food. And maybe a little something else.” He led me down the street to a nearby hotel. It was nice, but not overly flashy.

He booked the room, and we were silent as we rode the elevator up. The only sound was the soft ping of the doors and the pounding of my own heart. Nolan opened the door and let me in.

He walked over to a small table by the window. “Here’s the menu. Would you like to eat now?”

I didn't know what came over me. I would never have done this on a normal day, I had foolishly agreed to follow a stranger into a hotel room.

He stood there in his perfect suit, his silvery-dark hair glistening from the melted snow, and his mouth smiling at me—a mouth I could still taste on mine. At that moment, I knew that food wasn’t what I wanted. It was him.

He tilted his head to the side, reading my silence easily. “Want to work up an appetite first, Gwen?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

He strode over to me, his movement suddenly quick and fluid. His eyes were now fully predatory, burning amber in the dim room light. He maneuvered me back toward the large bed. “I told you I was going to knock you on your ass again. And I’m not going to be sorry about it this time.”

“Uhh, okay.” I stumbled over my words.

He pushed me gently back onto the bed. I bounced twice, which was definitely not sexy. A fresh wave of nerves hit me. I’d never done this kind of spur-of-the-moment hookup before. And I wondered if he'd still be attracted to me once all my layers of clothes came off. I wasn’t a size two like the shapely lady. I was what my grandmother called thin-figured, and I wore plain, simple underwear.

He began to undress me, slowly and carefully. But as my shirt came off, I immediately crossed my arms over my plain white bra. He arched his brow. “Problem?”

“I’m not shapey,” I whispered, embarrassed.

“Goddess,” he breathed, a word that felt like a prayer on his tongue. He let me lie there, covering myself like a silly, scared girl. “I’m dying to see your tits, Gwen. You have a body that should be worshipped.”

A wave of hot arousal shot through me from his simple words. I pulled my hands away, and his hands immediately took off my bra. Moments later, I was completely naked and felt completely exposed. He sat back on his knees, his intense gaze taking in every part of my body.

I shifted nervously. “If you don’t like what you see—”

“You’re joking, right?” He didn't let me finish. His fingers brushed over my nipple, making it instantly ache with need. He leaned over, pulling it into his mouth.

“Oh!” I gasped as a shockwave of pleasure tore through me.

“Fucking hell. This is going to be spectacular,” he muttered against my skin. He stood, taking his suit jacket, shirt, and belt off, but he left his pants on.

“What about—”

“First, I’m going to taste every inch of your delectable body and make you scream with pleasure. Then I’m going to claim you. Are you okay with that?”

“Ah . . . yeah . . . okay.”

He cocked his head to the side, his green-amber eyes studying me with a strange seriousness. “Are you new to this kind of thing, Gwen? Hookups? Or sex in general?”

“What?” My brain felt fried, and I couldn’t keep up the conversation.

“Are you nervous because you’ve never slept with a stranger, or are you nervous because you’re a virgin?” he asked simply.

My breath hitched. I had let a total stranger lead me to a hotel room because my body was burning up with lust, when I had never, ever been with a man before.

“Hookup,” I managed, quickly. He didn’t need to know I was a virgin.

“Okay. Good.”

“What if I were a virgin? Would you have stopped?” The question popped out before I could stop it.

“Only if you told me to stop. I’d just be more careful,” he said, his voice soft but firm. He arched his brow, a silent challenge. “Do you want to change your answer, Gwen?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know why I lied to him. Maybe I was embarrassed that at twenty-one, I was still untouched.

“Okay, then. It’s time for me to feast.”

The minute his lips were on my skin, all my nerves and concerns vanished. There was only sensation. Each touch of his lips or hands sent sparks of electricity racing through me. I felt like a spring being wound tighter and tighter, preparing for release.

I might have been a virgin, but I knew what an orgasm was, and I knew what the pressure building in my lower belly meant. But touching myself was nothing—nothing—compared to being touched by Nolan.

He pushed my legs apart, settling his large body between my thighs. A last-second flicker of nerves broke through. 

What if I was messy or weird down there? I tried to move but he held me captive.

“Relax, Gwen,” he ordered, his voice suddenly gravelly. “And hold on. Because I’m going to make you scream my name.”

I had just a moment to catch my breath before his mouth was on my core, doing the most unexpected, glorious things to me. I grabbed his head with one hand, a desperate, instinctive movement to make sure he never stopped. My other hand gripped the sheets as reality spiraled away.

There was only pressure, building, building, building, until it exploded. I screamed, a loud, raw sound that felt ripped from my soul, and my body flooded with pleasure. It vibrated. It shuddered. It was the most amazing feeling of my life. I finally understood what the big deal about sex was.

He trailed his lips up my body as I lay there, completely boneless and spent. “You taste fucking fantastic,” he said, his words thick with desire. “You smell like what I imagined.”

“Really?” I whispered, still dizzy.

“Really.” He stood, and his intense eyes never left mine. He was completely naked now, and I saw  power in his body that was truly wild, cords of muscle, dark, scattered hair, and a raw, powerful maleness that stole my breath.

“Now, I’m going to use my cock to mark that sweet pussy until you can’t scream no more.”