Page 53 of Ruined Vows

NINETEEN

KIRA

Isaak’s kissing me!

Oh shit, I’m kissing Isaak.

Oh my god,we’rekissing. But then my frantic brain is too distracted because his lips?—

An ungodly, high-pitched noise that I’ve never made before in my life comes from my throat, and all I want to do is crawl this man.

His lips are demanding. Forceful, almost. It makes my belly clench. My leg lifts to throw around his waist, but it can’t go far because I’m constrained by this damn dress.

Not for long.

The elevator pings again, and we spring apart.

Isaak breathes hard and I grab his hand, dragging him out of the elevator. He’s too large for me to actually drag anywhere, but he comes along easily enough. I remember belatedly that we were supposed to stop by the front desk to arrange for a new room, but I can’t give a shit right now. One bed works just fine for what my body wants in this moment.

“Kira. Kira, wait,” he says once we’ve stepped off the elevator. He pulls his hand out of mine.

“What?” I say in exasperation. My single-minded focus is to get us inside that hotel room, peel off my dress, and wrap myself around him until I can get all those elated feelings amping right back up to a ten. For once in my life, I don’t want to overthink something.

“This is a bad idea. I’m your personal protection officer. I’m not supposed to—” He breathes out in a huff.

“What?” I wave a hand impatiently. “You are not supposed to what? Have a good time? Let off some steam? You’re hot. I’m hot. Now for God’s sake, will you get me out of this fucking dress already?”

He stares at me for a moment, and I swear I watch his pupils expand as he fights some mental war in his head. I’m not sure if he wins or loses when he tilts his head and says, “Fuck it.”

Then his arms are around me again, wrapping so tight he cements me to his chest. His arm around my back is tight as his hand clutches the nape of my neck in a commanding grip.

The next thing I know, I’m slammed against the hallway wall and his lips are on mine. I’m pinned by the confines of my stupid dress, and the delicious heat of his chest makes the cool wall behind me thrilling.

He’s got the high-pitched whines squeaking from my throat again in seconds, and my legs fight against my dress. All I want is to lift my leg to notch my heel around his ass and pull him into me.

God, it’s been so long since I’ve been decently fucked, and I have the feeling that once Isaak and I have sex, I’ll have an entirely new definition of that concept. It feels so good to feel wanted like this. Isaak’s hands are everywhere, and the desire in them is palpable.

I want to touch him, but I’m trapped, helpless, and Isaak lets out a low, husky laugh as he pulls back from my lips, looking deeply into my eyes. “Problem, babe?”

“I can’t get at you properly in this damn dress,” I hiss.

He grins wolfishly. “I can fix that.”

His hand slides from around the back of my neck to the front. Then, with both hands at the buttoned collar, he tears it apart, sending little buttons flying all over the carpeted hallway.

Um. Is this my life? I don’t think this could possibly be my life. I’m left heaving for breath in the aftermath, my suddenly freed tits lifting and falling. Isaak’s dark eyes drop, pupils all but swallowing his irises.

“That wasn’t the part of the dress I was talking about,” I barely manage to whisper.

“This is a bad, bad idea,” he says, still staring at my boobs.

And then he’s kissing me again, hands all over. One hand grabs my ass and squeezes, while the other pulls me up against him.

I groan involuntarily. Needily. Because, oh sweet, holy baby Jesus, I can feel his hard-on.

Now here is a man whowantsme. Maybe not in a love kind of way, but I’m in the sort of mood where a lust kind of way suits me just fine.

Good god, he’s as hard as a rock against my belly. And long. Will that thing even fit inside me?

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