Page 5

Chapter five

All those things? They’re not what I want

Chase

M y hotel door barely slams shut before she’s on me.

Zoe stumbles slightly, laughing breathlessly as she grabs the front of my shirt and kicks off her heels, yanking me back down to her mouth.

I should slow this down, should give myself a second. Give her a second.

Instead, I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her laughter, tasting the remnants of champagne and the sharp twist of gin.

Zoe moans into me, roughly unbuttoning my shirt and sliding her hands over my chest, down my stomach, gripping my belt. My head spins, pulsing with the reality of this moment. I’ve imagined this a thousand times. What she’d feel like, how she’d sound when I finally got my hands on her.

And fuck, she’s better.

Fingers slip beneath my waistband, but I grab her, pushing her against the wall and pinning her there with my weight.

Her pulse flutters beneath my palm as I curl my hand lightly around her throat, tilting her chin up. She shouldn’t look at me like this. Wide-eyed and goddamn sinful, lipstick smudged on her parted lips from the last time I kissed her in the elevator. And the hallway. And outside the door.

I tighten my grip just enough to make her feel it. “You in a rush, sweetheart?”

She swallows, the movement pressing against my palm, and then she smiles. Slow and daring.

“Are you ?”

Yes. No. Fuck.

My mouth collides with hers, kissing her with the intention to consume her whole, all heat and hunger and years of wanting. Zoe grabs at me as if she feels the same damn way, fisting my open shirt and pulling me closer, and I realize she’s just as desperate as I am.

I grab her chin as I devour her, teasing her tongue with mine and nipping at her bottom lip. She grinds against me, and I smirk into her mouth.

“That enough tongue for you, Carlson?”

She stills for a moment, and I see her mind whirring back to the conversation we had at the bar when she tried to lie to my face about our first kiss being one of the worst she’s ever had.

She nudges my chest. “Shut the fuck up, Walton.”

My lips curl as my fingers tangle into her hair, tilting her head back, owning the angle and claiming her. I kiss her again until she’s moaning into my mouth, every curve pressing against me. So soft and sweet and completely wrecked.

Tightening my grip, I pin her in place, exactly where I want her. Dragging my mouth along her jaw, my hands skate up the soft satin of her dress, slipping through the sinful slit of fabric and over the bare skin of her thighs until I feel it— lace.

Thin, delicate. Damp.

My exhale is sharp against her throat, fingers curling beneath the waistband as possessiveness slams into me so hard it nearly knocks me flat.

“Fuck.” I press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against her pulse point. “You wear these for me, Zo?”

She lets out a breathless little laugh, shifting against me, grinding up towards my hand.

“Christ, Walton,” she breathes. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Nah. Just observant.”

Her breath hitches as I slide a finger beneath the lace, just enough to tease. She moans softly, her body arching into my touch, and I swear to God I could come just from having her like this.

I stroke deliberately slow, dragging my fingers over her, keeping the pressure light where I know she wants it the most. She lets out a sharp, frustrated little sound.

The corner of my mouth curves. “That feel good, baby?”

Her fingers tighten in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to glare.

“Fucking touch me , Walton.”

I hum low, dragging my teeth down the column of her throat just to feel her shudder beneath me again.

“Say please.”

Her lips part, breathing ragged as she stills, and I see it—the flicker of hesitation, that war inside her to double down. But to my absolute delight, she loses the battle. Or maybe she never wanted to win.

“ Please. ”

I reward her instantly with a deep, sinful stroke. My fingers dip inside her, stretching and filling her as she cries out. Her nails rake down my chest, and I groan as I watch her, completely transfixed as I work her open.

“Fuck,” she gasps, tilting her head and exposing her throat like a goddamn offering. “Chase—”

I smirk at my first name on her lips, swiping my thumb over her clit.

“Yeah, baby?”

She sobs out my name again, and I nearly fucking come in my pants.

I need her. Hauling her into my arms, I carry her across the room and drop her onto the bed. She laughs as she lands, all wild hair and flushed skin and wicked, breathless grins. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn beautiful.

Ripping my shirt off, I whip my belt free and drop it to the floor with a sharp metallic clang. Zoe props herself on her elbows, watching me, letting her gaze roam over my chest and down my abs to where I’m gripping my cock.

She bites her lip, and suddenly I’m moving again.

I dip down onto the bed, and she smoothly moves across the mattress, all lithe limbs and liquid silk, eyes locked on mine ready to eat me alive.

She settles in my lap, straddling me, dress pooled around her thighs. And then, with those sharp eyes locked on mine, she slowly tugs at the ribbons on her shoulders, lifts it over her head and tosses it to the floor.

My brain disintegrates as I drink her in, noting a barbell through one of her nipples.

No bra. Just soft, golden skin and curves so perfect I almost forget how to breathe.

She knows it, too. And she’s eating up every second of my stunned silence, her lips curling because she’s just figured out she’s my biggest weakness.

And she’s right.

I swallow hard and school my expression, dragging my hands up her ribs and covering her tits, kneading them rougher than I mean to. She inhales sharply, her pupils dilating just enough to make my cock twitch.

Her fingers trail up my chest, skimming over my shoulders to roughly grip my jaw, and I let her.

For about three seconds.

Then I flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head, her sharp little gasp shooting straight to my cock.

“That turn you on, sweetheart?”

Her smirk is deadly slow.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Very fucking gladly.

My mouth drags down her throat as I let go of her wrists, teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath her jaw, feeling her breath hitch as I suck on a nipple, the way her body lifts into me.

I want her dripping. I want her shaking. I want to be the only thing she remembers in the morning.

Then I reach the damn lace again. I groan, pressing my mouth to her inner thigh, breathing her in.

“Fuck, Zo,” I rasp. “You’re soaked.”

She exhales shakily, hips rising towards me.

“You gonna do something about it?”

I chuckle against her skin. “Nah. You’re gonna beg first.”

Her sharp little huff punches straight to my cock. She glares, but I see it again—the flicker of uncertainty. She wants to fight me, wants to hold her ground. But she’s already losing.

And I live for this shit.

My mouth hovers over her, just close enough to tease, my breath hot against her. I press an open-mouthed kiss right beside where she wants me most, and she twitches beneath me. Her fingers fist the sheets, and her thighs tighten around my shoulders.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she tips her head back against the pillows, and I watch her throat bob.

“Please.”

A low, satisfied hum rumbles from my chest, and I hook my fingers in her thong, dragging it down with my teeth, feeling her shiver and hearing her breath catch.

I let my eyes slowly trace back up her lean legs, my fingertips skating across her skin. I don’t give her time to process before my mouth is on her, and she cries out.

Her hips jerk, body twisting beneath me, hands grabbing at my hair like she doesn’t know if she wants to push me away or pull me closer.

I grunt against her, pressing her thighs wider, forcing her to stay open for me.

“Stay still, baby.”

I flick my tongue over her clit, feeling the sharp jerk of her hips beneath my grip. She tastes so fucking good, and I groan into her, gripping her hips as I devour her. Zoe curses, her thighs trembling against my shoulders.

She’s so goddamn responsive, so beautiful like this. All her sharp edges and stubborn walls completely, utterly undone.

I slide two fingers inside her, and Christ , she loses it completely. Arching and crying out my name, clawing my scalp, a strangled moan breaking from her throat.

“Ch-Chase—”

I twist my fingers inside her, curling them exactly where she needs, moving them slow and deep while I keep my mouth on her. Her thighs try to snap shut, but I pin her in place, forcing her wide and keeping her exactly where I want her.

“Jesus Christ—” She gasps. “You’re—”

“Wrecking you?” I murmur against her, pressing an open-mouthed kiss right on her clit.

She moans in reply, nails sinking deeper into my scalp.

I drag my fingers out slowly, slick and glistening with her, before sliding my hand lower. She jerks at the loss, head snapping up to glare at me.

“What the fu—”

My thumb drags lower, pressing against her tight little hole, and she lets out a loud groan. Oh, fuck yes.

Her whole body shudders as her legs widen for me on pure instinct, and a fresh wave of wetness soaks my fingers.

I grin. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

She makes a high, desperate little sound, chest rising and falling rapidly as I add just enough pressure in a slow, teasing circle.

“You want me to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

I chuckle darkly. I’m so doomed.

Her body tenses, breaths coming in sharp, unsteady pants as I press my tongue against her clit again and rub my thumb against her hole slowly, building her up until she’s right on the edge.

Her hands fist the sheets, thighs falling wider as she lets out the hottest, filthiest noise I’ve ever heard. I need to hear it again.

“Fucking hell,” she sobs. “I—”

I keep going, relentless and ready to ruin her for anyone else. She clenches so tight. So fucking perfect, so fucking mine.

“Gonna come for me, baby?”