Sinners at the Altar (Sinners on Tour 6)

“We can ride up and down until someone comes in the elevator,” she said, still rubbing her thumb over his most sensitive flesh.

“Can I be the one who comes in the elevator?”

She laughed and pressed her hand against the hard ridge in his pants, holding his shaft against his lower belly. “If I can ride up and down.” When he began to seep pre-cum, she spread it over his exposed cockhead in gentle circles.

“The way today is going, I’d probably get arrested for public indecency and spend my honeymoon in jail as Big Bart’s bitch.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I’m the only one who’s gonna fuck you up the ass tonight, Master Sinclair.”

His cock twitched in her hand. Did that idea excite him?

Interesting.

“Has anyone ever done you that way before?” she asked.

“N-no,” he said breathlessly.

“Not even Trey?” She really needed confirmation on that.

He shook his head. “He was the bottom. Have you ever? Fucked a guy?”

“No,” she said, “but I’ve always wanted to.”

“You know I’ll try anything twice. With you? Three times.”

And that was one of the many reasons she loved this man. Most guys talked the talk, but if you got too kinky with them, they backed down. Brian never baulked at a sexual experience and never made her feel like a whore for pushing the limits.

When the elevator door opened on their floor, they stared into the corridor, anticipating someone entering the car to watch how naughty they were being. They waited. Brian hit the button to hold the door. No one appeared. Myrna sighed. They exchanged looks of disappointment.

“Do you want to go down and try again?” she asked.

“I want to go down all right, but we won’t need the elevator.”

“I’m going to shave my pussy tonight so you can suck, lick, and eat every inch of it, inside and out. Would you like that?” She certainly would.

He made a sound of torture and pressed her hand over his partially exposed cock to conceal it before dashing off the elevator.

“Suitcase!” she protested. She had a full arsenal of kinky fun packed in that thing.

Brian backtracked for the suitcase. He looked at the keycard in his hand, then at the suitcase on the floor, and then at the hand he had pressed over hers. “I don’t have enough hands,” he complained.

Myrna carefully tucked his cock into his pants and stepped away. “Now you do.”

“That was my favorite occupied hand though.” He picked up the suitcase.

She laughed and tugged him down the corridor toward their room.

When he tried the key, the light on the lock flashed red. He checked the room number. “It’s the right room.”

The rattle of a cart echoed down the corridor. Myrna smiled at the young man who was pushing it in their direction. Their room service had arrived just in time; she couldn’t let her husband go hungry. He needed his stamina.

Brian’s second attempt to open the door worked. “Hallelujah,” he said. “I was thinking we’d just have to go at it in the hall.”

The suitcase slid across the floor of the marble entry, and Myrna found herself jerked into the room by one arm.

“Wait, our room ser—”

“No more waiting,” he said and drew her against his body.

He removed the clip from her sloppily styled hair and tossed it aside. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders, and he buried both hands in it before lowering his head to kiss her. The door hit the room service cart with a loud bang.

“Um... room service,” the server said in a loud whisper.

“Argh. Get out of here,” Brian said as he tried to close the door with one hand. The large cart got in the way.

“Sweetheart, just let him leave the cart inside the door. It will only take a second.”

Brian dropped his hand from the door and squeezed her ass. She inched him away from the door so the server could push the cart inside the entryway—a lovely entryway, she noted. Myrna assumed the rest of the suite was spectacular, but she doubted she’d get a chance to see it before Brian lost complete control. Performing live always got him worked up. As did being felt up in elevators.

He shoved her against the wall, capturing her hands on either side of her head. Staring at her as if he wanted to telegraph his desire directly to her thoughts, he rubbed the hard ridge of his cock against her mound until she began to gyrate with him.

He released one of her wrists and grabbed her hair. “Let me out of my pants,” he growled into her ear. “I’m going to fuck you right here against the wall.”

Her pussy pulsated with the first tease of orgasm. If he kept talking to her like that, he wouldn’t have to fuck her to make her come.

Her hands moved to his fly, fumbling with the buttons to unleash his huge cock. Oh God, she wanted it. She held it in both hands, and he thrust into her loose grip repeatedly. His broken gasps made her whimper with need.

Someone cleared his throat. Incredulous, Myrna peeked around Brian’s shoulder to find their server standing there with a hand out.

“He needs a tip,” Myrna said as Brian tugged her tight skirt up her thighs.

“I’ll give him a tip. Get the fuck out of here and close the goddamned door. There’s his fucking tip.”

“Just add a twenty percent gratuity to the bill,” Myrna said.

The cart rattled again as the server pushed it out of his way. The door closed. Alone at last.

Brian rubbed the head of his cock against Myrna’s hot, needy opening. Her entire core pulsed and ached, begging to be filled. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his intoxicating scent. She loved the way he smelled after a concert. The blend of excitement and the exertion of performing live added some pheromone to his sweat that pushed every one of her fuck-me buttons. She sucked the saltiness from his throat, delighting in the rapid surge of blood through the pulse point she palpated with her lips and tongue. She nipped him and rubbed her pussy against the head of his cock, which he still hadn’t buried deep inside her the way she wanted.

Fighting her tight skirt, she lifted her leg to rest her thigh against his hip. That was enough to move him, and he surged up into her body, filling her with one deep thrust. She tore her mouth from his throat and released a breathless moan. He clutched her suit jacket as he pounded into her and rubbed his open mouth against her throat and jaw. She loved when they took their time and made love for hours, but there was something unequivocally hot about this man losing all control and fucking her senseless. He sucked a path to her mouth and kissed her deeply. When he tore his mouth from hers, her eyelids fluttered open. Their excited breaths mingled as they stared into each other’s eyes. She was so lost in him. So lost. She never wanted to be found again.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Myrna.”

“Yes, Brian,” she said, her breath hitching with emotion. She wasn’t an emotional person. She internalized. She knew that. With him? With him, she felt safe. She could show him everything within her heart—good and bad—and know he’d treasure it because he loved her and understood how hard exposing her deepest emotions was for her. Or how hard it had been. Opening herself to him was becoming easier by the minute, because he made it easy.

“I love you.” She grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and yanked to ensure he was paying close attention. “I love you.”

“Love me a little more gently,” he complained.

She released her hold and rubbed his head to undo any damage before wrapping both arms around him. She slid her hands up under the back of his T-shirt, needing the feel of his skin beneath her palms. “I love you,” she said into his ear.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, as if trying to internalize her words. Physically draw them inside himself.

“Hearing you say it... I can’t even describe how amazing it feels.” He nipped her earlobe playfully. “But maybe I can show you.”

Brian moved inside her. Slow. Hard. Deep. He was very good at showing his feelings. She became hyperaware of the man against her: the texture of his skin beneath her splayed hands; the warmth of his breath against her shoulder; the tickle of his hair against her nose as her panting stirred the longish strands; his strong fingers massaging her ass as he ground into her, filling her body to its limits with his huge cock. But there was a new awareness within her. A swelling in her chest. A tightening in her throat. A prickle behind her eyes. Was she about to cry? Not in sorrow but in joy? What in the hell had gotten into her?