He kissed her, his tongue tangling and finding the hard metal nub of her tongue piercing. That would feel like heaven on his cock. He could hold that pink hair of hers and let her run that little stud across his dick until he was just about ready to blow. Then he could pull her off and mount her, fucking her until she cried out.
Her nipples rubbed against his chest, her hands exploring.
The elevator door opened. They were on ten. His room. He hoped the bellman had done his job and brought his luggage up already. That bag had his condoms. He’d tossed them in because he was going to a sex club, and despite the crappy job he had to do, there was sex to be had at sex clubs. He’d spent the last year or so of his damn life watching after Kitten and being forced to stare as his friends all settled into relationships where they got regular, happy sex.
Ben wasn’t about to feel bad about his hookup, no-name quickie.
He took her hand and led her down the hall, his heart thudding in his chest because this freaking no-name quickie was making him feel more alive than he had in forever.
She pulled back just a little. He turned and softened. She looked so vulnerable. His hands covered hers, surrounding her because he wasn’t about to let her go. He would coax her, make her feel safe because he just knew he had to have her.
“What’s your name?” It came out of her mouth so softly he almost didn’t hear it.
He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips. Her skin was so soft, her scent feminine and, fuck, citrusy. God, he loved that smell. “Benjamin. It’s Ben Dawson. How about you, sweetheart?”
That spark of spunk was back in her eyes, making his cock jump. “Ah, the formal introduction. Nat. Though I do answer to Cotton Candy.”
Nat. He liked it. It fit her. “Well, you are definitely as sweet as cotton candy.” He pulled his key card with one hand and tugged her close with the other. “Are you still sure? We don’t have to do this. We can go downstairs and talk. I can buy you a drink.”
He didn’t want that. The need to fuck her was riding him hard. He wasn’t even sure what it was about her that had him so fucking on edge, but he was going with it. The emotion felt so good. He’d been dead inside for a while, the world around him bland and black and white, and when he looked at her he saw colors.
Fuck. Was he feeling something Chase was feeling? Was Chase flirting with some pretty woman and Ben was getting the edge of his arousal?
“I don’t want a drink. I want this.” The door closed behind Nat and it didn’t matter who was feeling what. All that mattered was getting her out of those clothes and onto his cock. He could deal with the rest of it later. For right now a gorgeous woman wanted him, and that felt really fucking good.
He tossed the leather vest aside, puffing up with male pride as her eyes got wide. He was pushing thirty-six, but he kept himself in shape, the rigors of his past military life never quite leaving him. “Come here.”
He was done playing. He wanted his hands on her.
She took a deep breath, stepping forward. He could feel her nerves. He put a hand on her hair, smoothing it back. His other hand cupped her hip, running over her curves. He let her hips bump against him. She was so petite. He wanted her to feel the length of his erection, wanted to rub it against her pussy, but he caught the gentle curve of her belly. If he wanted to kiss her, he would nearly have to bend in half. Groaning with frustration, he reached down and picked her up. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
She gasped, but did as he asked. “You picked me up.”
Her mouth was slack like she couldn’t believe it. He liked this position. If her clothes were off, he could sink right in and control the penetration by moving her up and down on his cock. As it was, he could feel her heat against his crotch, and fuck, he loved the way her ass felt in his hands. He grinned at her. “You don’t weigh a thing, sweetheart. And this way, you can kiss me.”
She bit into that hot-as-fuck, bee-stung bottom lip but seemed to come to a decision. Her hands sunk into his hair, and she tugged back a little. Yeah, that got him hot, too. Chase was the one who wanted to be in control all the time. Ben liked a little push back. Ben liked the give-and-take of a really strong woman. He wanted to argue and fight and fuck like animals afterward.
He allowed her to lead, her tongue tentative at first and then demanding. Her hands pulled at his hair, and he sank his fingers against the flesh of her ass. No panties. Good girl. He didn’t want to have to deal with underwear. He wanted to shove that skirt up and fuck into her. There would be plenty of time later for a longer, leisurely fuck. Hell, if he got her off well enough, she might still be around when Chase got back, and they could show her the joys of a little double penetration.
He walked to the bed, bypassing the living area and heading for the bedroom portion of the suite, hoping she wouldn’t notice that his brother was staying here, too, and Chase was a slob from hell. Of course it would be way better if she didn’t figure out that he and Chase had shared quarters most of their lives because they had some freaky fucking twin thing where they could feel each other’s emotions, so it felt stupid to have separate apartments when they couldn’t have separate lives.
His knees hit the bed, and he turned until he could fall back on it. She wanted to be on top. Said she needed it. He meant to give it to her. He loved the weight of her on his cock. Which was wretchedly hard and practically banging out of his leathers.
She pulled up, her torso coming over him. “Dawson, I need this. Can you make me forget everything just for a little while?”
Oh, yeah. He could do that for her. Her every word dripped like honey. “Grab a condom out of that leather bag at the end of the bed and you can do whatever you like to me. Consider me your slave tonight, sweetheart.”
A shudder passed through her. “Just be my lover.”
He nodded. He wasn’t going to argue semantics. “Your lover.”
She nodded, breathless, and rolled off him. She was lithe, her body as sensuous as a cat. He heard the sound of a zipper, and then she was back, a little foil wrapper in her hand.
“You come prepared, Dawson.” She stood over him.
“I’m a freaking Boy Scout.” He could feel the judgment coming off her in waves. “I was coming to a sex club.” He sat up. “People usually come here for sex. You’re here. What’s your excuse?”
He hated judgment. He’d had enough of it when he was a kid dealing with his dad. Why can’t you be normal? What the fuck is wrong with you and your brother that you can’t just like a girl on your own?
He’d gotten the first question when he and Chase always, always, always got the same grades and answered the same questions the same way in school. No matter how they tried to separate them, they always answered the same until they’d learned to adapt. And the second accusation came from their father right before he’d dropped them out into the world without money or help or security.
Yeah. He didn’t do judgment. Not even when he wanted a little pussy.
“I was joking.” Cotton Candy put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down. “Don’t be so serious. I was just a little intimidated. It’s been a while for me.”
“How long?”
She ripped open the condom. “Four years, one month, and three days, though I don’t count a bunch of those months so really more like four and a half years. It’s been a while and I’m way more bitter than I was then.”
Four and a half years. Something had happened to her because she was a bundle of sensuality. He let his hands drift up her thighs. “I can do this as fast or slow as you need me to. I’m adaptable.”