"We've been building to this point and you know it," he said, getting to the heart of the matter. "Ever since I picked you up this morning, I've wanted to strip you down and taste you. All over."
I swallowed. Hard. There was a reason I needed to tell him no, to wait until after his mom's party, but at the moment I couldn't think of what that reason was.
"I have this fantasy of us in my mind. You ride me and your hair tickles my chest. Your breasts are pushed forward, and you keep screaming my name."
"Do I, uh, have an orgasm every time I scream?" The words escaped on the barest whisper and I was unable to stop them.
He nodded. "Oh, yeah."
My nipples hardened and my heart began a frantic boom-boom rhythm.
"Once we make love, Naomi, you'll only want more," he promised. "Much, much more."
No. He was wrong. I couldn't let myself want more.
He came closer to me, his gaze stroking my face like a caress. "I'll touch you here." He palmed one of my breasts through the fabric of my shirt.
The fingers covering my thigh inched down my calf, not stopping until they reached bare skin. Those naughty fingers tunneled underneath the flare of my pants, then started going higher. Higher still. The material tightened at my knees, not allowing him to go farther.
I almost shouted a string of curses.
My breath hitched in my throat as he abandoned my knee and moved his hand to the waist of my pants, unsnapping the button. His pushed his hand inside, his fingers making dead-on contact with the lacy fabric of my panties.
"I'll touch you here as well," he said, gently stroking the material. Of their own accord, my hips rocked slightly with his touch. "And you'll beg me to take you over the edge."
"I've already decided to sleep with you," I admitted in a whisper. "After the party."
His nostrils flared. "After. Before." Pause. "Now."
Now…so tempting. God, I wanted him. I did. I needed him. "I haven't changed my mind about a relationship." Unlike the way men treated women, I didn't want him to misinterpret what was about to happen. "We can sleep together, but that's it. Nothing more."
His fingers stilled, and I nearly moaned. "Maybe you didn't want a relationship," he said, his expression fierce, "but you're in one, anyway."
"No." I had to stay strong, had to fight my body's needs until he agreed. "I want you. I do. Just-" breathe "-nothing else."
"Well, I want everything. And I want you against a wall." His fingers began their tormenting search again, this time bolder, moving up and down over the now-damp material. "Have you ever fucked against a wall, Naomi?"
He was deliberately being crude, I knew, trying to force me to admit I wanted more than a hard, emotionless screw. It had the opposite effect, however. I ached all over, and hearing him talk like that increased my excitement. Maybe, at heart, I was a bad, dirty girl. A closet sex kitten, like my cousins had said.
"Have you?" he demanded.
Slowly, I shook my head. My experience was limited to the back seat of a Chevy and a cold, forgotten mattress. Don't get me wrong. I've had orgasms and even enjoyed the sex. But this was something altogether more pleasurable.
"I'll press your back against the wall and brace your legs around my waist."
Breathless, I glanced at a wall and pictured exactly what he described. Two naked bodies, straining together, standing up and tangled. My throat constricted. The scene was carnal. Primal. Raw.
I'd die if I didn't experience it.
"All right," I told him, my voice hoarse with longing. "Now. Before the party."
He paused, his eyes widening with disbelief. He hadn't expected me to agree. "What did you say?"
"I said yes. I'm willing to do it against the wall."
A blaze of heat caught fire in his irises, sparking blue flames. Those flames licked at me. His gaze moved over me with blatant possessiveness, and I licked my lips. His nostrils did the flare thing. Royce clasped my hand and jerked me to my feet. I hurriedly buttoned my pants.
No longer concerned about those around me, I raced behind him through the bar, past the reservation desk and into the elevator. Royce quickly punched a button. The doors slid shut. In the next instant, he had me pinned to the corner, plundering my mouth with his tongue, rubbing his erection into the crevice of my legs.
I almost climaxed right then.
A bell sounded. The elevator doors slid open.
It required a conscious effort to tear my mouth from Royce's. He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the hall. "I got the lowest floor I could," he said.
A shiver of anticipation slipped down my spine. Helpless to do otherwise, I kept moving. Okay, so I nearly beat him to the door. Big deal.
He jabbed the passkey into the electronic box. The green light winked its assent. Royce shoved open the door, hustled me inside and let the heavy wood slam behind him.
We were finally alone.
I raced to the bed, trying to shed my top along the way. It took a few minutes for me to notice Royce hadn't followed. I turned and faced him. He had his back to the entrance. He was watching me, a predator-like gleam in his eyes. Without taking his gaze from me, he clicked the lock.
"Now," he said.
"Now," I agreed.
He advanced. I didn't move, just let him come. When he reached me, my head fell backward with the force of his kiss. His tongue dove immediately inside. It was a hard and demanding caress, not meant to be gentle. But then, I didn't crave gentleness. I craved the weight of his body, the sear of his lips, the domination of his hands.
He couldn't be stopped.
I couldn't be stopped.
We were wild for each other.
His hands sifted through my hair and fisted it before he began working at my bra. Next he tackled my pants. Those, too, pooled at our feet. The lights were on. I tried not to let it bother me. I was so thin. Royce didn't seem to mind, though.
He was all over me. I loved every second, every squeeze of his hands, and returned the favor. He was caught in the avalanche of my lust. Again, he didn't seem to mind.
Just when I thought I might collapse, I was lifted in his arms and placed on the bed. The soft mattress cushioned my back.
"Wait!" I shouted. Had he forgotten? I cast a meaningful glance to the wall. A large floral picture hung in the center. I could almost feel the ridges pressed into my back.
Royce gave me a slow, wicked grin of agreement and nodded. "Oh, yeah. The wall."
Chapter Twelve
A true Tigress will fight for what she wants with every weapon available. Manipulation? Absolutely. Screaming? Without a doubt. Fists, teeth, legs? Get in her way and find out.
Royce heaved me up and carried me to the wall. The second my back hit, the hotel picture crashed to the ground. He dropped my feet so he could kick the frame out of the way, and pushed me harder against the cold paneling.
I gasped at the sensation. Our hands were frantic, our breath choppy.
But then, all of a sudden, Royce slowed down. He ceased the frantic need of our kiss and brought it to a leisurely exploration. With one hand, he caressed my neck, my collarbone and my breasts. With the other, he skimmed downward, over the taut hollow of my stomach.
"I want to take off my panties," I gasped out. "Help me take them off."
"I knew you were sexy, but I don't think I realized exactly how sexy until this moment," he said, gazing down at me. His voice strained with suppressed ferocity.
"Mmm." Who had time for conversation? I didn't. I wanted to come now. Right now. It had been so long, too long. I ripped at his shirt buttons. "Take. Panties. Off. Me."
He stilled my hands. "Not yet."
"Do you want to have sex or not?" His fingers glided over my hard, waiting nipple. I jerked at the deliciousness. Everything in me was coiled and poised for release. I was so close to the edge, so unbelievably close.