Page 29 of On Thin Ice (Calgary Mounties #1)
Chapter Twenty-Eight
HOLD ONTO THE HEADBOARD
Adele
When Lincoln crushes his lips to mine, I melt into his arms, scrambling to get even closer until I’m practically sitting in his lap.
The sexual tension between us since he picked me up from my apartment several hours ago has been electric, and I’m now so turned on that I’m seconds away from bursting into flames.
Running my fingers through his hair while he grips the back of my head, he keeps me still while swiping his tongue along my lower lip - an unspoken request for me to open to him fully. Giving in without hesitation, a small moan slipping out when his tongue strokes mine.
Lincoln O’Malley is an expert kisser. He’s unhurried and commanding, dominating me without being overpowering. And I’m revelling in it.
The trip back to the hotel is quick. Which is a relief, because if we’d been much longer, there is a good chance we’d be having sex right here in the backseat.
The driver pulls up out the front and taps on the privacy screen, pulling us both back to reality.
Lincoln adjusts himself, and I’m pleased to see that I’m not the only one affected by the moment between us.
He climbs out of the car and reaches his hand to help me out, lacing his fingers with mine while he thanks the driver and gives him another tip.
Once the car pulls away again, he tugs me gently towards the door, before stopping to kiss me again.
“I think I’m addicted to kissing you,” he murmurs against my lips. When I practically wrap myself around him, he chuckles and pulls away slightly. “We should probably move this to our room before we become truly indecent.”
Pouting, I allow him to guide me back through the lobby.
While we wait for the elevator, he slides his hand up my back before clasping the back of my neck and pulling me close to resume kissing me.
It’s exhilarating to see how much he wants me, and I could easily get used to this.
The elevator arrives, and he backs me inside, his lips still locked with mine, although he breaks it briefly to smack the button for the fourteenth floor.
Once the doors close behind him, he presses me back against the back wall before sliding his hands down my sides.
He bends slightly, and they travel further downwards, skimming over my butt - which he pauses to squeeze - before grabbing the backs of my thighs and lifts me up.
I gasp against his lips, not used to being lifted so easily, before wrapping my legs around his waist.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispers before kissing his way down my neck, nipping at my sensitive skin while I grind myself against him.
We couldn’t be any closer without him actually being inside me, and yet, I still feel like we aren’t close enough. I press my chest against him as I wrap my arms around his upper back and neck, but he’s doing all the work in holding me up.
“God, I want you so much right now,” I moan, letting my head fall back against the wall to give him better access to my neck.
The elevator doors open with a ‘ding’, and I reluctantly untangle myself from him, my feet hitting the floor. With our fingers woven together; he leads me across the hall to our room. I glance around while he pulls out our room key, noticing that there are only two doors leading off the hall.
“Are there only two rooms?” I ask, confused.
He turns to give me a cheeky grin as the electronic lock clicks, and he pushes the door open, revealing a spacious entryway on the other side. I raise an eyebrow, trying to work out why he’s looking so pleased with himself.
But once I step through the door, I realize this isn’t just a simple hotel room.
He’s booked us a suite, but it’s unlike any other suite I’ve stayed in before.
With high ceilings, the high-rises of Manhattan are on full display all around us through the floor to ceiling windows.
But the view is nothing compared to luxurious furnishings inside the sitting room that I’m pretty sure is bigger than my entire apartment.
A mix of both modern and vintage styles blend seamlessly together to give the room an extravagant feel, and I’m momentarily stunned while I take it all in.
Lincoln steps up behind me, his hands gripping my hips briefly before his arms circle my waist. I lean back against him, the urgency I’d felt in the elevator giving way to nerves now that I’ve had a moment to regroup.
Perhaps sensing the shift in my demeanour, he doesn’t push for more, allowing me the time to gather myself back together, simply holding me close while I look around.
“I don’t think I’ve ever stayed somewhere like this before,” I say, my voice hushed.
It doesn’t feel right to speak loudly in a place like this. Everything is in pristine condition, almost as though, if a speck of dust touched a single surface, it would instantly disappear.
“Don’t you stay in hotels like this when you’re on the high-end tours?” he asks, and I feel his voice rumbling through his chest against the back of my head, causing me to shiver .
I shake my head. “No. I mean, the guests have fancy rooms, but nowhere we go has suites like this. And as the lowly tour guide, I’m always in one of the most basic rooms.”
I step forward, and his arms slip away. He stays where he is while I move around the space, taking it all in, before peeking into the various rooms leading off the sitting room.
There’s a high-end kitchen behind one of the doors, and I imagine this has been done to keep the personal chef separate from their rich clients.
Can’t risk seeing the help, after all. I head towards the hall where I figure the bedroom is, and I trail my fingers along the wall as I walk, admiring the artworks hanging along the way, before coming to an abrupt halt when I take in the bathroom to my left.
A standalone bathtub sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows, which seems rather risqué until I notice the blinds that can be pulled across for privacy.
The shower is similar to the one in Lincoln’s ensuite, with dual shower heads and enough space for multiple bodies.
Continuing on, I find the bedroom at last, and eye the massive bed, which is piled high with pillows and decorative cushions. This bedroom is the epitome of luxury, and I’m pretty sure I’ve only seen places like this in magazines.
Noticing the absence of a certain blond hockey player finally, I wander back out to the sitting room to find him sprawled out on the couch, his eyes twinkling with amusement when I poke my head back around the corner.
“Is it to your liking, madam?” he asks.
I scoff. “This place is absurdly ridiculous. And I love it.”
He grins, and I move to stand in front of him. He sits forward to run his hands up the back of my legs gently, his touch featherlight, while he looks up at me, holding my gaze while I run my fingers through his hair.
“I’m glad you approve,” he says, some of the hunger from before returning to his eyes. I lean forward, resting my hands on his shoulders when he grips my legs and lifts me forward so that I’m straddling his lap.
“Hi,” he says, tilting his head so that he’s resting it on the back of the couch while he looks up at me.
“Hi,” I reply, biting my lip and willing my nerves to settle once again.
He lifts his hand to bring it up to my chin, gently pressing it to pull my lip from between my teeth, before running his thumb along it. His eyes glaze over slightly while he focuses on my mouth, and, feeling bold, I lower my face to his, hovering above his lips.
Seconds later, he surges forward to claim my mouth once again, and we sigh together. In this moment, in the quietness of the room, it feels like something we’ve done a million times together.
It isn’t long before the urgency we’d felt in the elevator returns, and I grind my centre against him, eliciting a groan from him while he kisses his way down my neck.
He grips the bottom of my sweater, lifting it slowly and pulling it over my head, tossing it on the ground behind me and revealing the silk camisole I’m wearing underneath.
He runs his fingers over the slippery fabric briefly, before it, too, ends up on the floor.
He takes in my white lace bra, my breasts directly in front of his face, before leaning forward to suck my nipple through the coarse fabric.
Gasping, I tighten my grip on the back of his neck when he swirls his tongue a little.
His fingers walk their way up my back before making quick work of my bra clasp, and he sits back to slide the straps slowly down off my shoulders.
His expression is almost worshipful while his eyes glide over my chest, before meeting my gaze when he moves his hand to my chest, brushing his thumb over my already hard nipple.
I’ve always had sensitive breasts, and the light touch of his thumb sends a shiver down my spine.
His eyes shine with approval while he touches me, pinching and massaging, as he learns how to make my body sing for him.
Finally, he leans forward again and sucks the other nipple between his teeth.
A moan rises within me, and my eyes roll back in my head.
“I wonder if I could make you come by just playing with these,” he mutters, his tongue stroking the sensitive peak once he returns to his task.
I shudder against him, overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on my skin. “I may explode if you try,” I pant out, my head falling back.
He chuckles. “Maybe next time, then.”