Page 27

TWENTY-SEVEN

Ella

IF YOU’D TOLD me four hours ago that instead of ordering room service for dinner I’d be eating one of my death-row meals with an unfairly attractive Formula 1 driver … I’d question your sanity. Or ask if you were dropped on your head as a child. Or if you were taking recreational hallucinogenic drugs. So yeah, it’s been an interesting—but very welcome—turn of events, to say the least.

“Ella?”

I’m completely spacing out. Busted. “Hm?”

“I asked if you wanted to come up to my room.” He tilts his head before grimacing. “But that doesn’t sound great, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” I agree before adding, “But yes, I will.”

Blake aggressively pushes the up button, willing the elevator to come faster. When it arrives, I’m practically dragged on, my feet barely touching the floor. As soon as the doors close, his lips mesh with mine. There’s no rush as we hum into the kiss, both of us wanting more, but biding our time.

When the doors open, we’re breathless. I blindly follow Blake, letting him lead me to his room. My mind is in over-drive realizing what’s about to happen. I started off my night in bed, by myself, while wearing pajamas. I’ll be ending my night in bed, with Blake, while naked. I’m so nervous I could puke.

“Are you okay?” Blake stops in the middle of the hallway, planting his feet on the ground. “You’re being quiet.”

His voice is extremely loud, carrying down the hallway. Quickly untangling our fingers in frustration, I glare at him. “Shh! People are sleeping.”

“I don’t care.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice. “What are you thinking about?”

Uhhhhhhh. “How Rihanna hasn’t released an album in about six years.”

Before I can stop him, Blake picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I let out a surprised yelp and smack his backside in protest as blood rushes to my head. He ignores me and walks down the hallway.

Only when we’re in the security of his room does he toss me carefully onto the bed like he’s scared of breaking me, which is obnoxiously hot as hell. I immediately sit up, the glare still ever-present on my face.

“Well?” He waits expectantly as his light brown eyes search mine.

“You’ve slept with models who look like real-life Greek goddesses.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. He looks mildly panicked; like I’m trying to trap him and he’s going to get in trouble no matter what he says or does. Blake opens and closes his mouth. To be honest, I don’t know what I’d say to me either.

“And you’ve had sex with enough people to fill the House of Representatives,” I add.

What the fuck? I don’t even know where that came from.

“I’m British.” He sits down on the bed next to me. “I don’t know how many people are in the House of Representatives.”

I’m American and neither do I.

“A lot.” I nod emphatically and rack my brain, trying to think of the exact number. American History was never my strongest subject. “Four hundred twenty-nine.”

There’s a very high chance my number is way off, but I have a feeling Blake isn’t going to fact-check me. And the number seems to drive my point home. His eyebrows fly up in surprise.

“You think I’ve slept with that many people?” He sounds appalled, which makes me feel slightly better. “Christ, Ella.”

I frown, daring him to correct me. “Am I wrong?”

It takes him a moment to find his voice. “I may have slept with a lot of women, but I hardly think the number’s in the four hundred range. And they don’t matter. You do. I want you , Ella.”

I don’t say anything in response.

“What’s really going on?” Blake pushes. “Talk to me.”

Nerves ripple low in my stomach as I eventually say, “I haven’t slept with anyone in a while.”

Not since before what happened with Connor. I shake my head, not wanting that rat bastard to ruin a night of amazing sex with the world’s most gorgeous man.

“We can take it as slow as you want to.” Blake cups my face; his eyes filled with tenderness and lust. It’s an oddly satisfying combination. “Whatever you feel comfortable with, yeah?”

I take a deep breath, reminding myself I have nothing to worry about with Blake. I trust him. “Okay … you may orgasm me now.”

He crosses his arms over his stomach as peals of unrestrained laughter fill the room. “Orgasm you?”

My arms wrap around his neck and I pull him in. Blake’s smile is simultaneously sexy and affectionate as his lips brush across mine, teasing my mouth open lightly. My tongue hesitantly meets his, and he must sense my nerves kicking back in because he threads his fingers through my hair, drawing me closer to him. I let out a moan and he hungrily swallows it, kissing me deeper.

Blake’s phone starts ringing, and he momentarily pulls away, a brief look of irritation shining in his eyes.

“It’s okay if you need to get it,” I say, the words dragging themselves out of my throat.

He shakes his head. “It’s just Marion. I’ll call her back tomorrow.”

“You sure? It could be important.”

His eyes slide up and down my body, making my limbs tingle with heat. “Not more important than this.”

“Okay.”

I barely get out my whispered reply before his lips are on mine. The screaming colors of glittering and burning fireworks flash through my mind as I eagerly tug on the hem of his shirt. Fuck fabric. I want it off his body and on the floor. He happily indulges me and pulls at the material behind his neck with one hand, lifting the shirt over his head. I lick my lips in appreciation. A breathy chuckle bounces against his already messy lips.

Taking full advantage, my fingertips trace the contour between the hills and valleys of his muscles. His skin pebbles under my touch. I count eight—yep, eight—ab muscles and let out an appreciative whistle before rolling my eyes at his grin. I’ve been wanting to do this since Monaco, and it was well worth the wait.

“Your turn.” His voice is husky.

I wiggle out from under his body and Blake tugs my sweat-shirt over my head in record time. My self-consciousness begins to evaporate at the strangled sound that escapes his lips and the unbridled lust in his eyes.

“You haven’t been wearing a bra?”

I shrug sheepishly. It’s not like I was expecting company.

His breathing is ragged. “Are you at least wearing panties?”

“You can find out if you want,” I say shyly.

Blake quickly shimmies me out of the rest of my clothing, kneeling on the edge of the bed so he can view every inch of me. It’s almost like he’s not sure where he wants to touch first. Watching in silence, I see his pupils dilate in pleasure as he skims his fingers across my skin. Knowing how badly he wants me just makes me want him more.

He rubs two fingers against me, feeling how wet I am. My back arches off the bed in response, desperate for his touch. Lazy kisses make their way down my body. When Blake lies between my legs, wrapping his arms under my thighs with his hands clasped across my stomach, I’m drowning in desire. If I were wearing my Apple Watch, the Genius bar would be contacting 911 over my dangerously high BPM. I can’t take my eyes off him as he presses his tongue, as pink as his lips, against me. He licks slowly, savoring the taste. His eyes are closed, a dip to his brows indicating his concentration. I want to save the image forever.

It doesn’t take long before I’m grinding against his mouth, greedy for more. The things Blake can do with his mouth would have anyone writhing in pleasure. It’s the one and only time I’ll be grateful for the women who came before me. He knows damn well what he’s doing, listening to my moans and expertly changing the pressure just when I need him to. My body is on fire, just waiting to explode. As he latches his soft, wet lips onto my clit, I know I’m not going to last long.

“So close.” My hands curl into the soft mess of his hair like it’s a lifeline. “Don’t stop.”

When he slips a finger, and then another, into me, I see the stars, the moon, and the sun. My orgasm rolls through me slowly. Before Blake, I’d never come from a guy going down on me. I just thought I couldn’t. Turns out I can, but only if it’s Blake’s head pushed between my legs.

No inch of skin is left untouched or untasted as Blake makes his way back up my body. Unintelligible sounds slip through my lips; I’m overstimulated by his touch, yet I can’t get enough.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers, flicking his tongue into the shell of my ear. “So fucking much.”

“Your turn,” I pant, mirroring his earlier words.

My desire to touch him, to feel him, is making my body ache with a need I’m unused to. I slip my hand into his waistband, wrapping my fingers around him before immediately pulling my hand back out.

“Blake.” I scramble to sit up, but his fingers dig into my hip, making it impossible to move.

“What?” Pure panic is etched across his chiseled features. “What’s wrong?”

I stare at him in disbelief. What’s wrong? Has he never seen the size of his dick?

“You will physically break me in half with that thing,” I frantically prattle. “I thought you were packing heat, not smuggling a goddamn anaconda in there. Do they not stop you at customs when you travel? Did you not have to register that thing as an exotic animal?”

Blake stares at me in that smug, masculine way of his before howls of uncontrollable laughter ripple through him. The room reverberates with the sound. His body drops onto mine, the dead weight making it difficult to breathe. At least I don’t have to look at his face after accusing him of having a snake dick, though.

He pushes himself up onto his forearms, kissing me gently. “I mean it, El. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to,” I confirm with a hearty nod. “I just may need you to buy me a wheelchair in case I can’t walk tomorrow.”

He chuckles before wrapping his lips around my right nipple. I let out an involuntary whimper. My breasts have always been sensitive, and Blake quickly realizes this, teasing them with flawless fervor. I press my chest further into his mouth as his teeth graze softly against the now hardened buds. He switches between the left and right, releasing each one with a pop and a heavy, panting breath.

I gently push him off me. A frown forms on his swollen lips until I hesitantly pull down the sweatpants hanging on his hips. Eyes heavy with lust watch me as I guide the material off his legs. He rolls onto his back, letting me see him in his full naked glory. Holy fuck. A delicious hiss pierces the air as I lightly wrap my hand around him once again. It’s warm and pulsing, and just as thick as I thought it was.

“Should I have a safe word for, uh, you know?” I give the “you know” in question a light squeeze.

“If you want.” I can tell he’s desperately trying not to laugh. “But I promise you’ll be more than okay.”

“You seem awfully confident that Indiana Bones isn’t going to cause internal bleeding.”

“Did you really just call my dick Indiana Bones?” His voice is incredulous.

“I can call it something else if you’d like. Long Dong Silver, Jurassic Pork, The Dicktator, Cocktapus, King Dong—”

He covers his face with his hands. “You’re crazy.”

“But you like me.”

His lips crash into mine, proving just how much he likes me. I lean into his touch as his calloused hands cradle my cheeks. We’re both messy with need. The kiss is sloppy and wet in the best kind of way. Blake leans back and gazes at me, the unguarded desire in his eyes sending a new wave of want down to my core. A question burns in his eyes, and I nod in response. I desperately need him.

He hops out of the bed with the speed of Usain Bolt. His Olympic abilities end there as he fumbles to open the bedside drawer, frantically looking for a condom. He mumbles to himself, struggling to tear the plastic wrap off a box of Trojans. I’m relieved to see it’s a new box because that’s far more preferable to a half-used-up one from his collection of one-night stands.

“I’m going to sue them.” Blake’s still unable to get into the box. “Is this bloody childproofed?”

“King Dong is the size of a small child, so probably not.” I motion for him to toss me the box. Effortlessly, I tear the plastic off, take out a condom, and rip open the foil packaging.

Blake gets back into the bed, breathless as I slowly roll the condom over him. I’m surprised the rubber doesn’t snap in half. My palms are sweaty with nerves, and he immediately notices my hands shaking.

“Hey.” He peppers my face with sweet kisses. “Say the word and we can stop whenever you want, baby. I’ll go slow.”

My throat’s dry—caught somewhere between nerves and need. Blake balances above me as I guide him between my legs. The crease in his forehead, a sheen of sweat beading on his skin, shows just how much he’s restraining himself. Our mingled breathing is the only sound as he slowly pushes inside me.

When he’s seated fully inside me, he releases the most carnal sound I’ve ever heard. We lie there, not moving, just feeling the heat of one another. It’s the most sinful torture I’ve ever experienced.

“More.” My voice is desperate and demanding. There’s no need to ask him twice.

“You feel so good,” he growls as he leisurely rocks into me, mouth dropping open. My brain’s in overdrive, unable to get any words out. Soon I’m gripping his ass, silently letting him know I can take more. That I need more. He takes my cue, thrusting into me at a quicker pace that allows him to free some of the pent-up passion he’s desperate to share. I lift my hips up, matching his fluid movements.

I moan brazenly, not giving a single fuck if the room next door calls the front desk with a noise complaint. All I can focus on is the warmth of Blake’s solid body grinding into me, the sound of our groans drowning one another out, the feel of him stretching me full, the familiar smell of his cologne.

“You’re taking me so well, love.” His voice is thick with lust, hot breath hitting my already sweaty neck. I tighten my legs around his waist, allowing him to get deeper inside me. He continues to pump in and out, and soon I’m completely unaware of anything but the building heat between my legs.

“I’m close,” I gasp. “Yes, right there.”

“That’s it,” Blake coaxes. “Come for me, baby. So fucking beautiful.”

At his words, I unravel, my body pulsing with unrivaled ecstasy. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, making it impossible to hear the incoherent noises we’re both making. Confessions slip from Blake’s lips, making it no secret that he’s close too. I kiss him deeply as he pumps out his own release, a groan vibrating from the back of his throat.

We’re both breathing heavily, sweaty limbs tangled together. My entire body is slick with sweat, stuck to Blake’s like glue. He doesn’t seem to mind. His lips curl into an easy smile and he kisses me. It’s passionate yet gentle and so unbelievably perfect. I nuzzle into his touch.

“We weren’t each other’s firsts,” Blake says, “but I sure as hell hope we’ll be each other’s lasts.”