Chapter Thirty-Nine
Sierra
My head is buzzing. The rest of the concert feels louder, brighter and more wonderful. But what I really want to do is kiss the stuffing out of Griffin in private.
Leaving Tokyo Dome and climbing into the limo doesn’t register. All I can sense is the hyperawareness prickling at my nerve endings. I want Griffin more than my next breath.
In the back of the limo, I thread my fingers through his and squeeze. His pulse throbs against my palm. When we finally stop in front of the hotel, we climb out with hands still linked. We don’t let go as we cross the vast lobby toward the elevator bank. My feet slap against the endless marble of the hotel lobby. Why did they make this lobby so huge?
A uniformed clerk holds the door to one of the elevators. We slip right in. Griffin punches the close button endlessly.
The second the doors close, I’m on him, looping my arms around his strong neck. I resume the kiss the crowd interrupted at the dome, devouring him like a dying woman, my mouth wild and desperate. Our tongues tangle, and my God, he tastes so good, all lusty, delicious male.
I wrap my legs around him and vaguely note the elevator stopping, the doors opening. Are there other people around? I don’t care.
Griffin strides out, carrying me with about as much effort as he would carry a pillow. Every step rocks me against him, sending one delicious wave of friction after another. I’m already wet, and I want to feel him hot and hard against my bare flesh.
He maneuvers the room key, pulling away from me to see what he’s doing. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, lick the taut skin and hum with satisfaction when his breathing hitches.
The door opens, and then we’re inside. Dim lights come on in every corner as he drops the key card into its slot.
He kicks the door shut with his heel and then his mouth is devouring mine again—sultry, seductive. His tongue strokes me, aggressive, then sweet and teasing. I kiss him back, my body winding up at the wild taste of him. He’s like the best brandy—heady and intoxicating.
I lower my feet to the floor and slip my hands under his shirt, spreading my fingers over his hard chest, greedy for more of him. I want to feel all of him, taste all of him, have him inside me so deep that we’re united.
Tonight, he’s mine, and I’m his. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.
“You drive me crazy,” I manage between pants, ripping the shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere in the suite. I finally undo his pants button. The zipper lowers with a soft hiss. I push his pants down—somehow he’s lost his shoes already—then his black underwear until everything pools at his feet. He kicks the garments away as though they’re trash.
His erection springs forward, the cock head almost touching his flat belly. I wrap my hand around the thick shaft, feel the rapid pulsing against my palm and fingers. He’s long and huge—big enough that I can’t fully circle him with my fingers.
Driven with need, I drop to my knees and wrap my lips around him. A low groan tears from his throat, the muscles in his belly tightening.
He’s hard, yet the skin is velvety against my tongue. I pull him in deeper and moan as the intense taste of him fills my mouth. It intensifies my hunger for him, making my whole body throb.
His breathing grows rougher. I glance up. His eyes are two gorgeous pools glazed over with mounting need, his sharply defined cheeks flushed.
At the sight of him losing himself, I grow wetter, my flesh aching. I tilt my head back, wanting to see his face break into an orgasm I’m responsible for.
He tunnels his large hand into my hair and holds my head firmly. He thrusts to the tempo I set. I wish I could tell him how amazing sucking him is. How his excitement is driving me wild.
Suddenly, he pulls out of my mouth with a soft pop. Chest heaving, he lifts me up and kisses me with all the desperation of a starving man.
Yes, yes. I kiss him back, a moan caught in my throat. He cups my ass, lifting me as he carries me to the bedroom—his. Through my thin shirt, I can feel his erection pulsing against my belly, and I’m dying with unfulfilled need.
The second we’re in his room, I yank my shirt off, dropping it over my shoulder. He unhooks my bra and pushes it away, his long, strong fingers hurried. I let out a soft sigh at how cool the air feels against my bare breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. My knees buckle as hot streaks of pleasure race through my veins. His arm wraps around my waist to keep me upright as he continues to suck and lick. Every flick of his tongue over the tip of my breast sends an electric shock of pleasure along my spine.
Desperate to be closer, I unbutton and unzip my jeans. He rains searing kisses along my shoulders as I bend to shove my jeans and underwear down my legs. When they get stuck on my shoes, I kick them off and strip the rest of the way until I’m fully nude.
I straighten up. He looks at my naked body, his gaze burning with a desire that makes me even hotter.
“You’re perfect. So pretty, so pink”—his eyes fall to my breasts and the neatly trimmed juncture between my thighs—“and all mine.”
I shiver as he lifts me and takes the other nipple into his mouth. I moan mindlessly, my back arching. His thick, muscled arm supports me, and I grip his broad shoulders, clinging and begging.
I sense him carrying me toward the bed. The backs of my knees hit the mattress. I slowly topple, held in his arms while he covers me with thousands of wet kisses, his tongue flicking out to taste every inch of me, like I’m the most delectable treat in the world.
An orgasm’s building. It’s so close, I can feel the vibrating energy of it.