Page 25 of Filthy Mouth
“I hope you’re prepared to go into work late tomorrow,” I said as the doors slid open.
She stepped out, heels clicking, then turned her head just enough for me to catch the glint in her eye.
“I hope you can walk tomorrow,” she murmured with a sniff.
I watched that sexy ass sway down the hallway toward the bedroom door, the tight black skirt hugging her curves just enough to make me imagine what was underneath. Mrs K would have left the champagne ready for me. I rolled her suitcase behind us, pausing as she pushed the door open. Her soft gasp told me she liked what she saw.
“Wow. I can see why you’d want a red room with this layout,” she said, stepping inside.
The suite was open plan, a single partition in the middle offering access to the bathroom from either side. Light poured in through the windows, catching on the dark wooden furniture—a deliberate contrast I’d always liked. The rest of the bedroom was full of light with the white, cream and flickers of gold throughout.
She moved slowly, her blouse pulling against her chest as she turned her head, eyes lingering on the couch, the table, the chair, and finally the bed. My mind stripped away every layer of that conservative suit, piece by piece, until I had her naked and waiting there.
She drifted toward the bathroom, and I set her case beside the chair, taking the champagne. The cork popped with a sharp crack. I poured us each a glass, already imagining how I’d have her by the time it was empty.
“Come here, Poppy.” My patience was gone, and my voice left no room for refusal.
Her hair caught the light as she turned, swirling like a lure in dark water. She took her time crossing the room, slipping off her jacket and tossing it over the chair without breaking my gaze. I tracked every calculated sway of her hips, every rise of her chest—already imagining my hand fisted in her hair while I drove into her.
I handed her the champagne flute.
“To a new beginning,” I said, the words low and deliberate as our glasses touched.
“Or an old continuation,” she murmured, lips brushing the rim before she took a sip.
I set my glass on the nightstand with a muted clink and stepped in behind her, closing her in until her spine met my chest. My hand traced the curve of her waist, fingers finding the fastening of her skirt with slow precision.
My mouth lowered until my lips grazed her ear, my breath searing her skin.
“Tell me the truth,” I murmured, voice curling around her like a leash.“Did you like being my whore that night? Did you go home with your pretty cunt still aching for my cock?”
“You know I did,” she said in a sultry voice that made my cock twitch.
I made quick work of the button and zip, and when I let the material go, her skirt slid down to pool at her feet. Black lace clung to her hips, stockings tracing the length of her legs. I lifted her silky grey blouse, revealing the perfect curve of her waist before moving around to unfasten it.
She sipped her champagne, eyes on me as I stripped her layer by layer.
“I thought I was a pretty good prostitute,” she murmured.“Something to fall back on.”
I paused on the final button, catching the wicked curl of her lips.
“I think you enjoyed letting go—embracing your filthy desires,” I said, sliding the blouse from one arm.
She switched the glass to her other hand, and I took the last of her covering away. I stepped back, taking in the view—black lace, bare skin, and heels—while my mind catalogued every way I planned to take her apart tonight.
I took the glass from her hand and set it aside.
My zipper rasped down, and I freed my cock, thick and heavy, the head already flushed. Her tongue darted over her lips again, and I chuckled darkly.
“Hungry little slut,” I murmured, stroking the length slowly, letting her watch every inch.“On your knees. I want those pretty lips stretched around me.”
She sank down, champagne glass still in hand, but I plucked it away and set it aside.
“Hands behind your back. Don’t touch unless I tell you to. Tonight, that mouth is mine. You understand?”
Her eyes burned as she nodded.
“Say it,” I growled.
