Page 101 of Full Out Fiend
I’ve changed in a lot of ways, too.
The differences have evolved almost minutely—these subtle but poignant realizations about who I am and what I’ve settled for over the years, especially from the people who supposedly love me.
Basking in Fielding’s personal brand of adoration has changed how I define love. Creating our own family has elevated everything I thought I wanted and deserved.
I’ve never felt more settled and at peace—or as excited about what the future holds.
He eases the bike into a parking garage and comes to a slow stop as I take in our surroundings.
We’re about half an hour from home, at a swanky shopping and restaurant district. I tickle his stomach to get his attention, nodding toward the sign in front of us.
“It says hotel parking only.”
He whips his head around, gives me one of those megawatt smiles, and winks. “Good thing we have a reservation.”
My eyes go wide with excitement, but that feeling is quickly replaced with dread.
“Relax,” he soothes, dismounting and offering me his hand. “I know you don’t want to be away from home for more than one feeding, and I packed your pump. I just wanted to get you alone and let you unwind. We can order room service. Or take a nap. Catch up on those stupid TV shows you like. Whatever you want to do, angel, I’m game.”
I bite my lower lip and give him a look—I knowexactlywhat I want to do in a hotel room alone with him. And he knows it, too, but it was sweet of him to plan this date without expectation.
I was cleared for sex several weeks ago… and I had an IUD inserted at my postnatal follow up appointment since condoms have let us down once before. But it’s hard to even consider getting it in with a baby at home. I’m exhausted all the time. Even when Winnie does sleep, I try to catch up on all the things I can’t do when she’s awake.
We’ve fooled around here and there, and we’ve gotten away with two quickies. But we’ve also been interrupted more than once. Nothing kills a lady boner faster than a wailing baby and the accompanying surge of milk letting down.
I wouldn’t have thought to come to a hotel for a date. But now there’s nowhere else I want to be.
Check-in is seamless, and I pounce on Fielding in the elevator, forcing him to drop the overnight bag he’s carrying. If there was any question about how I wanted to spend our evening away, my intentions just came through loud in clear.
He groans into my mouth when we get to our room, then curses under his breath when he fumbles to hold the key card to the door.
The door has barely clicked closed when he’s pushing me against the wall, dominating my mouth and grinding his pelvis against my core. “How do you want me?” he demands on an exhale.
“Hard and fast,” I pant. “Remind me I’m yours.”
He bites my neck—hard, just like I asked—before taking my earlobe between his teeth.
“Fuck, angel. That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me. Take off your pants and get on the bed. Now.”
I scurry over and undress, not bothering to make a show of stripping out of my clothes. The day will come where we have time to take things slow. To kiss and touch. To explore and savor. I’m way too desperate for any of that now.
My body literally craves his touch. As I watch him strip, my empty pussy pulses with need. I quickly lick my fingers and graze them against my core, mewling on contact as he stalks toward the bed.
“Look at you, all hot and needy. You can’t even wait for me?”
I shake my head mischievously but rise to my knees to kiss him all the same. He works a hand into my hair while the other travels down and interlaces with my fingers.
Fielding lifts our joined hands to my lips, demanding “suck” as he pushes into my mouth and presses down on my tongue.
He uses both our hands to rub my clit, working his fingers in tandem with mine. “You’re fucking soaked,” he murmurs in my ear, separating our hands to cup my pussy with an appreciative growl. “Fucking soaked and so fucking ready. What do you need, angel? What do you want that only I can give you?”
I thrust against his hand, craving more contact. I want him. He fucking knows it. But I also know he wants to hear me beg.
“Fielding,” I whimper, catching his hand and pressing it hard against my clit. I reach for his other hand and guide it to my throat, then peer up at him longingly. “Please.”
It’s like that one word is his kryptonite. He pushes me back so hard I rebound off the mattress and yelp in surprise. He prowls toward me until I’m scrambling back, but he reaches out and grips my hips before I can get comfortable.
“Flip,” he demands, helping me turn over before he braces over me and lines himself up, teasing the tip of his cock at my entrance.