Page 48 of It Happened in Vegas

“Yeah? Well what do you say we unleash the crazy? I’d love to see how you gush all over me.” He kissed me, still chuckling. “My little stalker.”

“You’re going to tease me about this often, aren’t you?”

His chortle the only response, he picked me up and carried me to the bed. I stood, hardly believing he’d taken that so well, while he shoved the wall of pillows away. The bed like a blank slate, we were freed to do anything we pleased.

I turned, flipping my hair over my shoulder and meeting his eyes. “Unzip me,” I whispered.

He tossed his shirt off to the side first. Then his fingertips found my zipper and slowly brought it down, skimming my skin. Warmth spread across my back and I hitched my breath.

The gown fell to the floor. He took my hand and helped me step out of it. The entire black lace set visible for him, his eyes blazed a trail up and down.

“You’re a fucking vision. Come here.” He kissed along the edge of my bra, knuckles grazing my nipple through the lace. He growled low, deeper, his hands sliding around to unclasp it and toss it aside. His tongue traced circles around my nipple before sucking it into the heat of his mouth.

“Oh, Keaton.” My cry felt torn from some deeper place inside of me.

"That’s it, my little stalker, my number one fan,” he murmured. “You’re with me now. Let me takegoodcare of you."

He laid me down on the bed and I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I was undone by this man’s mouth. Every time he spoke, every stroke of his tongue, tickle of his beard, and caress of his hands chipped away at any wall I had remaining.

I completely forgot about this weekend, about Hops and our marketing campaign and his goals. I forgot that anything existed beyond this bed because if I did I’d plummet into the unknown. Was this a one-time thing? What would happen once I wasn’t useful to him and Hops anymore? Was there anything in the future for us?

He kissed his way down my stomach, slow and thorough, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me open. I should’ve been self-conscious, but Keaton regarded me like I was a fancy feast he planned to savor every minute of.

He glanced up at me, eyes dark with lust. “Now tell me you want me.”

“More than anything in the world,” my voice, husky and low, gave him permission to do anything he pleased.

He stripped the last of my lace away and lowered his mouth to me, tongue searching through my folds. The first stroke of it flat along my clit undid me.

I should’ve been scared to tell him, kept my fan-girl past locked away. But here he was, worshipping my body, not pulling back.

My hips bucked, my hands threading through his hair as he licked and sucked and teased me until I was panting his name, begging.

"Keaton—please—I need?—"

He rose over me, eyes hungry. "What do you need, my little stalker?”

"You. Inside me. Now."

He straightened, unfastening his belt with deliberate slowness, every click and slide of metal matching my heartbeat. My throat went dry watching him, eyes widened at the sight of him—thick, hard, utterly gorgeous.

He caught my look and smirked. "Speechless?"

“Impressed," I managed. “Excited.Good.”

He reached for a condom from his wallet, and took care of the practicalities, sheathing himself. I whimpered, wanting to know the full feel of him someday. Someday… whatever that meant for us. If there even was the possibility of anusbeyond this weekend.

I didn’t know that was what I wanted until now.

He settled between my thighs, his weight anchoring me. His mouth found mine, claiming me, slower, deeper, as if memorizing my taste.

When he pushed inside me, one long, deliberate stroke, I saw fireworks behind my eyelids. Full, warm, perfect. We both gasped.

He moved, controlling every stroke at first, rolling his hips in a rhythm that drove me wild with slick friction. So intense, my sense multiplied, hearing the soft rustle of sheets and the moans we offered one another, our sex scented the room, my tongue and lips sucked saltiness along his neck.

"You feel so damn good," he rasped, his lips brushing my ear. "So tight, so wet, made for me."

He added a hand, fingers finding my clit. I yelped at first touch. My nails scored his back as I coiled tightly, seeking release. My hips rose to meet every thrust and movement. The pleasure built fast until I was close.

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