Ignited
Page 47
“The only potential I want is you,” I said. “In our room. Preferably without clothes.”
He grinned. “Well, when you put it that way . . .” He took my arm and led me inside the hotel that, though I’d never been in it before, seemed so familiar from all the times I’d watched and rewatched Pretty Woman as a teen. At the time, I’d been more interested in the musical shopping montage than in the romance plot. But I did remember that in the end, Vivian had gotten both the clothes and the man, though there’d been a few moments when it had looked like he and his issues were going to blow it for them.
I looked at the man on my arm, and couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t seen it coming, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted the fairy-tale ending, too. And I was going to do whatever it took to make that happen.
“What?” Cole asked, catching me eyeing him.
“Just thinking about this hotel,” I said, as we moved through the exquisitely appointed lobby to the bank of elevators. “A lot of celebrities come through here. Some pretty hot men, too.”
His brows rose ever so slightly. “Planning to snare yourself a movie star?”
“Hardly.” I linked my arm through his. “I was just thinking that the man on my arm is so much hotter.”
“Funny,” he said, pulling me to a stop and kissing me fast and hard and deep. “I was thinking the same thing about the woman on mine.”
We’d registered before having Edward drive us to Malibu for dinner, so now we headed straight to our room on the eighth floor.
“You still haven’t asked me what we’re doing here,” Cole said as the elevator opened onto our floor. “About what the plan is for your dad.”
“No,” I said lightly, as I walked a few steps in front of him. “I haven’t.”
He caught up with me at the door, then stilled my hand before I could put the key in. “Katrina.”
“I’m just playing by your rules,” I said. “I seem to recall you were very insistent on getting that point across to me in the ladies’ room of The Drake. Or was I mistaken?”
He shook his head, obviously amused, then took the key from my hand. “Not mistaken.”
“Good.”
He opened the door for me, then followed me over the threshold. As soon as the door closed behind him, I eased up against him and started to unbutton the pale blue shirt he’d paired with faded jeans. “The truth is, I’m really hoping that being a good girl is going to be even more rewarding than being punished was.” I lifted myself up on my tiptoes and nipped at his earlobe. “Otherwise, why not just be bad?”
“You raise a good point,” he said, tucking his finger under my chin to lift my mouth up for a kiss. “And I do like to punish you. . . .”
“I can be bad,” I said, cupping my hand over his already hard cock. “And we have a nice long night in a gorgeous hotel ahead of us with nothing else to do but for you to punish me for being naughty.”
“Or reward you for being nice.”
“Or both,” I said, then squeezed his cock and made him groan.
“Stay there,” he said, leaving me standing just a few feet from the door. We had a regular room, not a suite, and I liked the fact that it was small and intimate, with little more than a bed and a desk and a chair.
It was as if the room was stripping away all other possibilities, leaving nothing else for us to do except take off our clothes and enjoy each other. That was fine by me. The way Cole had bolted in Chicago had left me feeling edgy. I’d recovered a bit on the plane and even more with Nikki and Damien. But I wasn’t going to feel completely right—I wasn’t going to feel completely his—until I’d spent hours in his arms. Until he’d claimed me again and again. Until he’d taken me every way imaginable and then some.
And until he stayed with me afterward.
Now he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. I remained still, knowing that was part of the game, but wanting badly to move because my legs were starting to cramp. Just when I thought I could take it no more, he said a single word. “Strip.”
I didn’t speak. I didn’t smile. I did nothing, in fact, except take four long strides toward him, bringing me all the way into the room and putting me right in front of him.
I’d had no time to change before racing to the plane, and that meant I also had no luggage. Fortunately, I’d known from my repeated viewings of Pretty Woman that it was easy to solve a wardrobe crisis on Rodeo Drive—at least, it was if you had money. Now I wore a stunning Dior wrap-style dress in pale blue. And since Cole had paid for it—all the way down to the lace panties and push-up bra—I figured he was entitled to watch it come off.
I untied the sash, then unwrapped the dress until it hung on me like a robe, revealing the bra, very tiny panties, and stunning blue stilettos.
“You like?”
“I think I like this view even better. Maybe this is how you should wear the dress from now on.”
“Okay,” I said, teasing. “But let’s see if we can manage an improvement.” I slowly slid my hand down my stomach until my fingers disappeared under the lace band of the panties. I was wet and hot and I arched back a bit as I stroked myself, my fingers sliding over my bare skin and teasing my clit enough to send tingles of sensation running all through me.
I kept my eyes open, locked on his, and when I heard his low, guttural moan, I knew that I’d just won a round in whatever game we were playing at the moment.
I withdrew my hand, then sucked on my finger. I was rewarded with another groan and a soft, “You’re killing me, Kat,” which made me laugh.
In one fluid motion, I pulled the dress the rest of the way off, then let it fall to the floor. Then I unclasped the bra and tossed it casually aside. Next came the panties, until I stood in front of him, completely naked except for the fuck-me heels.
I moved closer, then simply stood there, mere inches from him. “If we were at Destiny, there’d be a no-touching policy.”
“Good thing we’re not,” he said, then reached out to run his fingers lightly over me. Up and down my arms, over my thighs, lightly along my breasts. The caresses were gentle, almost casual, but the sensations he stirred in me were anything but.
I’d been standing with my legs together, but his touch had sent such a flurry of sensation through me that my body was now throbbing for release. I shifted, spreading my legs a bit, then I leaned in and put one hand on his shoulder, both for balance and to bring me closer to his ear. “I’m so close,” I whispered. “Make me come.”
I leaned back enough to see his face and the heat reflected there. I saw the way a muscle in his cheek twitched as he fought for control. And I heard that single, unexpected word—“No.”
I lifted a brow, frustrated both by the tension in my body and the amusement I saw in his eyes.
“Fine,” I said, then moved my own fingers to my sex, because this was a problem I could take care of on my own.
“No,” he said. “My rules tonight. You don’t come until I tell you to. And you do what I tell you to.”
I lifted a brow. “Sir. Yes, sir.”
He smirked, then glanced at the floor. “I think I’d like to see you on your knees. And I know I’d like to see your lips around my cock.”
He grinned. “Well, when you put it that way . . .” He took my arm and led me inside the hotel that, though I’d never been in it before, seemed so familiar from all the times I’d watched and rewatched Pretty Woman as a teen. At the time, I’d been more interested in the musical shopping montage than in the romance plot. But I did remember that in the end, Vivian had gotten both the clothes and the man, though there’d been a few moments when it had looked like he and his issues were going to blow it for them.
I looked at the man on my arm, and couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t seen it coming, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted the fairy-tale ending, too. And I was going to do whatever it took to make that happen.
“What?” Cole asked, catching me eyeing him.
“Just thinking about this hotel,” I said, as we moved through the exquisitely appointed lobby to the bank of elevators. “A lot of celebrities come through here. Some pretty hot men, too.”
His brows rose ever so slightly. “Planning to snare yourself a movie star?”
“Hardly.” I linked my arm through his. “I was just thinking that the man on my arm is so much hotter.”
“Funny,” he said, pulling me to a stop and kissing me fast and hard and deep. “I was thinking the same thing about the woman on mine.”
We’d registered before having Edward drive us to Malibu for dinner, so now we headed straight to our room on the eighth floor.
“You still haven’t asked me what we’re doing here,” Cole said as the elevator opened onto our floor. “About what the plan is for your dad.”
“No,” I said lightly, as I walked a few steps in front of him. “I haven’t.”
He caught up with me at the door, then stilled my hand before I could put the key in. “Katrina.”
“I’m just playing by your rules,” I said. “I seem to recall you were very insistent on getting that point across to me in the ladies’ room of The Drake. Or was I mistaken?”
He shook his head, obviously amused, then took the key from my hand. “Not mistaken.”
“Good.”
He opened the door for me, then followed me over the threshold. As soon as the door closed behind him, I eased up against him and started to unbutton the pale blue shirt he’d paired with faded jeans. “The truth is, I’m really hoping that being a good girl is going to be even more rewarding than being punished was.” I lifted myself up on my tiptoes and nipped at his earlobe. “Otherwise, why not just be bad?”
“You raise a good point,” he said, tucking his finger under my chin to lift my mouth up for a kiss. “And I do like to punish you. . . .”
“I can be bad,” I said, cupping my hand over his already hard cock. “And we have a nice long night in a gorgeous hotel ahead of us with nothing else to do but for you to punish me for being naughty.”
“Or reward you for being nice.”
“Or both,” I said, then squeezed his cock and made him groan.
“Stay there,” he said, leaving me standing just a few feet from the door. We had a regular room, not a suite, and I liked the fact that it was small and intimate, with little more than a bed and a desk and a chair.
It was as if the room was stripping away all other possibilities, leaving nothing else for us to do except take off our clothes and enjoy each other. That was fine by me. The way Cole had bolted in Chicago had left me feeling edgy. I’d recovered a bit on the plane and even more with Nikki and Damien. But I wasn’t going to feel completely right—I wasn’t going to feel completely his—until I’d spent hours in his arms. Until he’d claimed me again and again. Until he’d taken me every way imaginable and then some.
And until he stayed with me afterward.
Now he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. I remained still, knowing that was part of the game, but wanting badly to move because my legs were starting to cramp. Just when I thought I could take it no more, he said a single word. “Strip.”
I didn’t speak. I didn’t smile. I did nothing, in fact, except take four long strides toward him, bringing me all the way into the room and putting me right in front of him.
I’d had no time to change before racing to the plane, and that meant I also had no luggage. Fortunately, I’d known from my repeated viewings of Pretty Woman that it was easy to solve a wardrobe crisis on Rodeo Drive—at least, it was if you had money. Now I wore a stunning Dior wrap-style dress in pale blue. And since Cole had paid for it—all the way down to the lace panties and push-up bra—I figured he was entitled to watch it come off.
I untied the sash, then unwrapped the dress until it hung on me like a robe, revealing the bra, very tiny panties, and stunning blue stilettos.
“You like?”
“I think I like this view even better. Maybe this is how you should wear the dress from now on.”
“Okay,” I said, teasing. “But let’s see if we can manage an improvement.” I slowly slid my hand down my stomach until my fingers disappeared under the lace band of the panties. I was wet and hot and I arched back a bit as I stroked myself, my fingers sliding over my bare skin and teasing my clit enough to send tingles of sensation running all through me.
I kept my eyes open, locked on his, and when I heard his low, guttural moan, I knew that I’d just won a round in whatever game we were playing at the moment.
I withdrew my hand, then sucked on my finger. I was rewarded with another groan and a soft, “You’re killing me, Kat,” which made me laugh.
In one fluid motion, I pulled the dress the rest of the way off, then let it fall to the floor. Then I unclasped the bra and tossed it casually aside. Next came the panties, until I stood in front of him, completely naked except for the fuck-me heels.
I moved closer, then simply stood there, mere inches from him. “If we were at Destiny, there’d be a no-touching policy.”
“Good thing we’re not,” he said, then reached out to run his fingers lightly over me. Up and down my arms, over my thighs, lightly along my breasts. The caresses were gentle, almost casual, but the sensations he stirred in me were anything but.
I’d been standing with my legs together, but his touch had sent such a flurry of sensation through me that my body was now throbbing for release. I shifted, spreading my legs a bit, then I leaned in and put one hand on his shoulder, both for balance and to bring me closer to his ear. “I’m so close,” I whispered. “Make me come.”
I leaned back enough to see his face and the heat reflected there. I saw the way a muscle in his cheek twitched as he fought for control. And I heard that single, unexpected word—“No.”
I lifted a brow, frustrated both by the tension in my body and the amusement I saw in his eyes.
“Fine,” I said, then moved my own fingers to my sex, because this was a problem I could take care of on my own.
“No,” he said. “My rules tonight. You don’t come until I tell you to. And you do what I tell you to.”
I lifted a brow. “Sir. Yes, sir.”
He smirked, then glanced at the floor. “I think I’d like to see you on your knees. And I know I’d like to see your lips around my cock.”
