Page 12 of Rescued By Four Alphas
He floors the accelerator, and I smile to myself. The drive to the hotel is only twenty minutes, but it stretches endlessly, thick with anticipation. The city lights blur past us, but I hardly notice. I’m too focused on what’s coming. By the time we pull into the private garage beneath the towering hotel, Evan's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and my body hums with tightly coiled energy.
We step into the elevator, alone. The moment the doors close, his hand finds mine, but I pull away, just enough to keep him on edge.
“Not yet,” I whisper.
Our suite is on the top floor. It's sleek, expensive, and secluded. The kind of place that feels like it exists outside of real life. The second the door clicks shut behind us, I turn to face him. He stands there in his perfect suit, his perfect hair now slightly mussed from my fingers, and his perfect mouth seductively open.
I step between his legs, running my hands along his shoulders, feeling the firm muscle beneath my fingertips. Something is intoxicating about having this powerful man watching me with such hunger in his eyes.
"I'm going to take my time with you," I whisper, leaning in to press my lips to his collarbone.
But Evan has other ideas. His hands find my waist, firm and commanding. "No, you're not."
Before I can respond, he spins me around, pulling me against his chest. His lips find my neck, hot and demanding as he reaches for the zipper of my dress.
"Evan," I gasp as cool air hits my skin, the zipper sliding down with agonizing slowness.
"You've been teasing me all night," he murmurs against my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "My turn now."
The dress pools at my feet, leaving me in just my lace underwear and the sapphire pendant. His hands slide over my curves, pausing at the slight swell of my belly. There's reverence in his touch now, mingling with hunger.
"Look at you," he breathes. "Carrying our children. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
I turn to face him, reaching for his tie. "Let me.”
"No." He catches my wrists, his grip gentle but unyielding. "Tonight, you don't do anything. Tonight, you let me take care of you."
My protest dies on my lips as he lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the massive bed that dominates the room. He lays me down with surprising gentleness, arranging pillows beneath my back.
"Comfortable?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.
I nod, unable to form words as he begins to undress. He takes his time, his eyes never leaving mine as he removes his tie, his jacket, his shirt. Each newly revealed inch of skin makes my mouth water.
When he's down to just his boxer briefs, the outline of his erection impossible to miss, he kneels on the bed between my legs.
"These need to go," he says, hooking his fingers under the waistband of my panties.
I lift my hips to help him, and he slides them down my legs with torturous slowness. My bra follows, leaving me completely naked except for the pendant.
"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands skimming up my thighs, over my hips, to cup my breasts. "So fucking perfect."
My breasts have grown more sensitive with pregnancy, and when his thumbs brush over my nipples, I arch off the bed with a gasp.
"Sensitive?" he asks with a knowing smile.
"You know they are," I breathe.
"Let's see just how sensitive." He lowers his head, his mouth closing around one nipple while his fingers tease the other.
The dual sensation is almost too much. I cry out, my hands flying to his hair, holding him against me. The wet heat of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
"Evan," I moan as he sucks harder, using just enough teeth to walk the line between pleasure and pain. "Oh god."
He switches to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. My body writhes beneath him, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of everything.
"Please," I beg, not even sure what I'm asking for.
He lifts his head, his eyes dark with desire. "Please what, Dahlia? Tell me what you need."
