Page 4

Chapter 4

Hannah

Six Months Ago

The masked man is kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, hungry and desperate, like he’s afraid if he takes his lips away from mine I’ll spontaneously disappear. But I’m not going anywhere.

I lose myself in the kiss a little, my tongue sliding against his, while he takes greedy handfuls of my dress and skin. He’s warm to the touch like an ember, and he smells like cedar and spice, which ignites something in me. The rest of the club seems to fade away as I zero in on the blaze of his lips against mine, and for a second, I forget there’s anyone else in the room.

There’s only him—and I can’t get enough.

He makes a sexy little sound as he nips at my lower lip like he can’t get enough of me either, then moves to my neck, slowly scraping his teeth down it and making me whimper. He works his mouth all the way down my neck and gently nips at the soft skin where it meets my shoulder, then pulls back.

“You taste amazing. Even better than you smell,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. He kisses me again, holding me close to him with one hand on my lower back while the other pushes aside the slit of my dress to get at my thigh that’s crossed over the other. He massages the muscles with surprising yet tender strength, and images of those hands all over the rest of my body flash through my mind.

He kisses the back of my ear, making me shudder.

“I want to taste you everywhere,” he says, and my hand falls to his forearm. I squeeze it to steady myself as my clit throbs. Despite my grip, he keeps moving his hand slowly and sensually up my thigh.

“Is this okay?” he breathes, and I uncross my legs.

“Yes,” I whisper, and he flashes me a heated grin as his hand disappears under my dress. He pushes my panties aside, and when his fingers find my wetness, his nostrils flare.

He teases my clit with his fingertips, brushing them against me lightly like an artist exploring a canvas. Our eyes lock, and his simmering gaze boils me over inside. His tongue darts out to trace his lower lip as he gently slides a thick, calloused finger into me, and he groans at how easily I take him.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, and I realize it’s true.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life, and we’ve barely done anything together. I whimper as he drives his finger deeper into me, and the masked man glances up over my shoulder.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” he says quietly, and my stomach flutters. The room, which seemed to fall away as I lost myself in his touch, comes rushing back into focus and I realize how many people are casting subtle glances our way, obviously enjoying watching James with his hand up my dress.

“I think every one of them is jealous of me right now. But I don’t want to share you.” He kisses me again to prove it, his hand still working between my legs, then pulls back, tipping my chin up with his free hand. “Come with me to one of the private rooms.”

I nod, and he stands to scoop me off the barstool so my legs wrap around his lean, muscular waist. He’s as solid as a tree trunk and holds me up like I don’t weigh anything. I feel my dress riding up my back a little, and James smirks as he carries me away from the bar.

“We’ll give them one last show,” he murmurs.

His words blaze through me from my head to my toes, and I grind against his stomach, kissing him hard as we reach the open door of one of the many rooms branching off from the main one.

He carries me inside where two candelabras on either side of the room cast it in soft, flickering light. A bed made with silky looking sheets and dark pillows waits for us, but rather than bringing me over there, he kicks the door closed and presses me against it, ratcheting up the intensity of the kiss now that we’re alone. I tip my head back as he drags his lips away from mine, trailing his mouth along my jaw and neck with a hunger that makes my clit throb.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans. “I knew you would. Need to taste more of you.”

He pulls me away from the wall suddenly, and I wrap my arms around his neck to steady myself as he strides quickly across the room and deposits me on the bed. I bounce a little on the soft mattress, and he stands over me, gazing down at me appreciatively.

His eyes travel over me slowly, burning behind his mask as he slowly loosens his tie.

“Can I take off your mask?” he asks, his voice low.

“Yes, but only if I can see you too.”

He nods and tugs his mask off his face first, and he’s even better looking than I thought. He’s got a sharp jawline, strong cheekbones, and thick lashes that frame his gorgeous eyes. He reaches for my face to push my mask off, and when he gets a look at my face, he chuckles in disbelief as he cradles my head in both hands and stares into my eyes.

“ Mon Dieu, tu es incroyablement belle. Tu vas me gacher pour toutes les autres femmes, n’est-ce pas? ” he whispers, and although I recognize it as French, I don’t understand a word he’s saying. But it sounds so beautiful that it sends a shiver rippling through me anyway.

“You speak French?” I ask, and he nods with a smile.

“I grew up in Québec,” he says as he lowers himself to his knees between my legs.

He pushes my feet up onto the edge of the bed and gently places his lips to my ankle, kissing all the way up the inside of my leg until his face is buried between my legs. He tugs my panties down to my ankles and pushes my dress up over my hips to give himself better access.

“You have a beautiful tattoo,” he whispers as he traces a finger around the outline of a small blue-and-green hummingbird etched just above and to the right of my pubic bone.

His attention to every detail about me—even this small, private tattoo that I’ve barely ever shown to anyone else—feels almost more intimate than the way he’s touching me. But before I can think about that too hard, he lowers his mouth to my pussy, making my mind go temporarily blank.

“ Mon Dieu, tu as le g?ut du miel ,” he mutters as his tongue flicks across my folds. I still can’t understand exactly what he’s saying, but right now, I have a pretty good idea.

I’ve never been a big fan of having guys go down on me because it’s usually sloppy and halfhearted, so I try to pull him away at first—but he’s so good at it that my hands wind in his dark, wavy hair instead and hold him in place so I can grind my pussy against his tongue. He groans hungrily as he eats me out, his tongue pushing in and out of me and swirling around my clit, and I lose myself in it.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, surprised at how quickly he’s turned something I never particularly enjoyed into an experience I never want to end. “Fuck, please don’t stop.”

“You like that, hummingbird?” he mutters, the vibration of his voice against my white-hot bundle of nerve endings ratcheting up the feeling even higher.

“Yes,” I hiss through clenched teeth, and my eyes flutter shut as he fucks me with his tongue. No one has ever made me feel as amazing with their mouth as he is right now, and I don’t want it to end, but as fire builds in my core and my back arches away from the mattress on its own, I know I’m not going to be able to take much more.

“Give it to me,” he demands as he sucks my clit into his mouth, and it’s so shockingly intense that it sends me over the edge.

I shudder against him, riding his face and tongue as I come, and he laps at it like he can’t let a drop go to waste. When it’s over, he emerges from between my legs, his lips and chin gleaming wet in the dim light that dances across his face from the candles.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, but his eyes never leave mine. He shucks his clothes off in a hurry and I shimmy out of my dress, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of him. I reach for his swollen cock and try to take it into my mouth, but he takes a handful of my hair and pulls me off his cock.

“Later,” he says, his voice raspy. “I’ve got so many things I want to do with you, but first, I need to be inside you.”

I nod and scoot up the bed, lying back as my heart races. Several condoms lie on the little table by the bed, and he reaches over me for one and tears it open. I watch as he rolls it onto his cock, and my stomach flutters at the sight because I can’t believe how thick and long he is. Taking him is going to be a challenge, but I’m not about to back down from it now.

His eyes meet mine as he finishes rolling the condom on, and he smirks confidently. It’s almost like he’s teasing me, daring me because he can sense how badly I want it.

“This isn’t your first time, right?” he asks, clearly picking up on my anxiety, and I laugh breathlessly—both because I’m surprised he noticed my nerves and because of the way he phrased the question.

“No. It’s just my first time with a cock that looks like it could break me.”

His expression softens, although heated pride flashes in his eyes. He smirks as he climbs on top of me on the bed, then spreads my legs apart and leans down to kiss my neck.

“Don’t worry, hummingbird. I’m not going to break you,” he whispers against my skin. “I’m just going to ruin you.”

The nickname—so perfectly matched to my tattoo—sends a thrill through me. It feels intimate and personal, even though he still doesn’t know my real name.

A gasp escapes me as his cock head finds my entrance. He starts to work his way into me, rocking his hips side to side to open me up for him as he pushes deeper, and although the feeling of him stretching me like this is almost overwhelming, it’s equally incredible. My fingers dig into the marbled muscles in his back, and the amber flecks in his eyes flash in the candlelight like sparks drifting away from a fire.

“You feel amazing,” he breathes, his forehead pressed to mine, our breaths mingling. “So fucking perfect.”

He rocks his hips backward, and I’m so tight that I can’t help clamping down around him, adding to the friction. With nothing but his cock head still inside, he gives me a second to adjust and catch my breath, then pushes into me again. What little air I had rushes out of my lungs as he stretches me, and time feels like it stops moving as he falls into a steady rhythm, rocking in and out of me, taking deep, plunging thrusts and putting me into a trance.

“Look at me,” he commands.

When I do, the expression on his handsome face nearly undoes me. He’s watching my reactions, adjusting his pace and angle in response to every gasp and moan. It’s like he’s learning me, memorizing what drives me wild.

When he finally bottoms out inside me, he drops his head to take one of my nipples in his mouth, trapping it between his teeth and applying just the right pinch of pain and pleasure. It’s too much when I’m so worked up already, and I fly apart for him all over again, clawing at his back and wrapping my legs around his waist as he picks up the pace, driving into me hard and fast. I can see it on his face just before he comes, the way he grits his teeth, the muscles in his neck standing out as his cock pulses and swells inside me.

He lets out a deep, guttural groan, thrusting deep one more time and then going still as he empties himself into the condom. He grinds the base of his cock against my clit as he comes, sending sharp aftershocks of pleasure zapping through me, then collapses on top of me, spent.

Our sweat-slicked chests rise and fall against each other, our hearts pounding hard for several long moments as we catch our breath. Then he lifts up a little, looking down at me with something almost like awe in his expression.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, brushing my hair from my face with a gentleness that contrasts with the way he just fucked me. His fingertips trace the contours of my face like he’s trying to commit them to memory. “I can’t wait to make you do that again and again.”

I nod breathlessly, then laugh because I realize he was right.

He’s already ruined me.