Page 6 of The Golden Hour

Tonight, I’m just a woman answering the call of her blood for the touch of a man.

“Here we are, m’lady. The Presidential suite.”

Finn unlocks the door to his motel room, flips on the bedside light, and invites me inside with a playful bow.

Widening my eyes, I gaze around with feigned awe. “My God, I’ve never been anywhere this fancy.”

When he doesn’t laugh, I turn to find his eyes on me, his jacket caught half down his arms. “You deserve more than this.” The words seem to surprise him more than me, and he turns away, yanking his jacket off and throwing it over a nearby desk chair.

“No, I don’t,” I tell him frankly. “Besides, my boss owns this motel, and I know for a fact that the sheets are new, the mattresses are soft, and carpets are steam cleaned once a month.”

A rough laugh bursts from him, the sound oddly forlorn. He drags a hand through his dark hair, sending the strands into orbit, then focuses his blues on my face.

There’s no question of what he wants or when.

Me.

Now.

My nipples tingle, hardening as he closes the distance between us. The single light by the bed casts most of him in shadow, but his pale eyes glint. Wolfish and hungry.

He stops so close to me I can feel the heat of his body. Then he reaches up slowly, like he doesn’t want to startle me, and removes my ten-dollar, prescription-free glasses.

“Can you see?”

I nod, struck mute by his tenderness. He smiles and sets the glasses on the nearest surface—the two-seater table by the window—then returns to me. Hot fingertips feather over my cheekbone, trace the slope of one eyebrow, and lower to clasp the back of my neck beneath my braid. He effortlessly tilts my head back, drawing me forward until my breasts meet the wall of his chest. I’m too aroused to be embarrassed by my small, needy whimper.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, but doesn’t wait for a response.

As I’m learning quickly with this man, there’s no use anticipating what he’ll say, or in this case, do. Because when I think he’ll kiss me softly in introduction, teasing me with promise of more like most men would, he does the opposite.

He takes my mouth like he’s starving for it, and I let him in like he’s coming home, sucking in the scent of him and the faint, seductive tang of whiskey.

But the savagery of our kiss isn’t enough. We claw at each other’s tops, yanking and tugging with no care for abraded skin. My bra tears at the clasp and is discarded. When his flannel and undershirt sail to the floor, I glimpse tattoos. A lot of tattoos, some colored, some intricate and dark. His body is a map of his life, and I want to visit each stop.

Finn has other plans, distracting me with a searing, open-mouthed kiss that I feel all the way to my toes. Before I can recover, his hands slide beneath my thighs and I’m sailing upward. His eyes gleam as they trace my bare breasts, now situated before his face, while my fingers sink into his hair.

“Thank you, God,” he whispers.

I laugh, the sound dying in my throat as his mouth covers a nipple. I’m lost in the soft flicks of his tongue, the burn of his teeth, and the way he rocks me against him like I belong here. Like I’m made for the thick, hard length of him still trapped in his pants.

I’m sparking, a live wire, the friction and stimulation borderline unbearable. When he switches attention to my other breast, I mewl out my need.

He laughs with strain against my skin. “I know what you want, and you can’t have it yet. You’re going to come at least twice before I fuck you senseless.”

Holy hell. The filthy promise zips straight to my core. I clench on nothing, gasping at the ache.

Mindless, I beg.

“Please, Finn. Please.”

He bites my breast, sending electric pain to mix with pleasure. I moan and yank his hair.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers, relenting, letting me guide his face up. “How wet are you?”

“Find out for yourself.”

His eyes smolder at the challenge and he wastes no time, setting me on my feet and yanking my jeans to my ankles. I squeal, half laughing and off-balance, as his hand dives between my legs and shoves my panties to the side. Two merciless fingers sink inside me, stretching and staking their claim.

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