Page 115 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
He glides his fingertips over my clavicle, pressing softly, then his entire palm brushes down my top before he grabs my breast roughly.
I gasp over his erection and his pupils seem to darken, a flashback of the eye under the hotel door causing me to shiver, but I’m not afraid.
It was him.
I know it was.
It had to be.
And I should have helped him then.
Instead, he watched me walk away like a coward.
But I’m not leaving him again.
I bite softly at him through his pants, the fabric wet and rough in my mouth, but I don’t care. I would do anything for a taste of him, and if this is all I can get, it’s what I’ll take.
He twists my nipple as he stares at me, as if he wants me to flinch. To tell him to stop.
But I don’t say that.
I only dig my teeth into the fabric of his pants, wondering if after all the pain he’s experienced in his life, he’s gotten a taste for it. I know he likes to be bitten.
His eyes flutter closed, answering my question, and he releases my nipple only to slap my breast softly, his hand striking down and making me flinch, but a warmth lights up through me, too.
I curl my fingers tighter against his solid muscles as I slide my open mouth over as much of his cock as I can get with the fabric in the way. I want to take him bare, but I know he won’t let me. Not yet. Still, his fingers tightening in my hair, tugging at my scalp, his eyes half closed, I know he’s into this, too.
And as the cream that was on his hand starts to sink into the skin around my breast, I gasp, the icy sensation chilling me at the same time heat begins to swell and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
His eyes flash as he stares at me, a small smile curling his lips when he realizes it, too. He grips me harder, and I lick the solid ridge of him through his pants.
His smile disappears as his lips part and he groans again, a delicious, rough sound that feels almost as good as his touch.
He tilts his head back, exposing some of his throat, the bandana wrapped around the rest. “Fuck, Karia,” he whispers, squeezing my breast hard. But then his eyes flash open and he dips his chin.
Something changes in his face that I don’t understand.
He grabs my arm, jerking me violently to my feet before he pushes me against the shower wall, hand on my breast.“Karia.”He whispers my name like he’s in pain.
“Sullen?” Now, I’m scared again.
His chest is rising fast, falling faster. I don’t understand what I did wrong.
But the moment before he parts his gorgeous lips to speak, to say something that seems to be getting under his skin, the lights in the room flicker.
The stream of water from the showerhead stalls, gurgling to a jerky spray.
Then everything is dark.
The water stops, only the sounds of uneven dripping and the rumble of the drain reaching my ears.
Sullen still has his hand on me and my fingers curl in the damp fabric of his hoodie.
“Tell me this is normal,” I whisper quietly, my voice shaky. “Tell me it’s because I’m not used to luxury.” I repeat his words, wanting to hear his condescending tone say that again.
But I think he stopped me for a different reason.
He heard something before I did. He’s always on alert, isn’t he? Even when I was lost in him.
