available and a suite for a colleague.”
The receptionist’s mouth parted slightly as she took the credit card, eyeing Q with interest. Her smile encompassed coyness rather than professionalism. I welcomed the snarl in my stomach. I loved the ignition of rage. Adored my willingness to fight.
It was so different to hurting the women in Rio. This I would gladly start and end.
Something shifted in me. Something small but fundamental as I took back a piece of my life—acknowledging my urge to hurt another.
“Is there a problem?” I said, dragging the girl’s eyes to mine. I had the sudden need to smooth my hair. I wished I wore a tailored dress or some exorbitantly expensive jewels. I felt so ordinary next to Q. But he was mine.
Hands off, bitch.
Her smile froze, turning to brittle efficiency. “No. No problem.”
We both jumped as Q slapped the counter. “When I asked for a room, I want it now, not tomorrow.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, bending to look at the computer screen. The cattiness and female challenge between us faded as her interest in Q died a quick death thanks to his rudeness.
After a second, she said, “We only have the Presidential suite available.”
“Fine. Book it.”
“How many nights will you be staying?” She fluttered those obnoxious lashes in Q’s direction.
“Not sure. Keep it open-ended.”
Her eyes popped wide; I swallowed back my smugness. Q was dangerous. He was dark. But he was also the most generous, sexy, powerful man I’d ever met.
Happiness ballooned as Q glanced my way. He didn’t acknowledge me, but we were linked too deep. We belonged.
I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
“Um, well. We can’t just hold it. It’s four thousands euros a night. Should I book for the one night, or a week, or what?”
Q bristled, electrifying the air. “Charge me whatever you want but give me the keys.” His eyes fell on me, melting the ice in my blood, turning me into a flickering candle ready to burn.
Holy crap. It wasn’t often that I blushed. But damn, Q set my cheeks on fire.
The girl dropped her eyes, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
A moment later, Q fisted the old-fashioned key she held up, and dragged me like his hard-won prey toward the elevator.
“I’ll keep the other key here for your colleague. Oh by the way, dinner is included in the room rate. I’ll advise your butler to confirm your menu selections,” the woman called after us.
Q slammed to halt, spinning back toward her. “If anyone interrupts us, I’ll have this entire hotel bulldozed to the ground. No dinner. No reservation. No menus. Nothing.” A smile decorated his face, struggling to project a businessman rather than a beast. “Merci.”
I didn’t say a word as we rushed to the elevators. He punched the ‘up’ button. His fingers tightened around mine until mini-heartbeats pounded in time with my fear.
The lift pinged. We entered.
One second.
Two seconds.
No one else entered.
Three seconds.
Four seconds.
The doors closed.
The lift hadn’t moved before Q launched himself at me.
Grabbing my hips, he hoisted me upward, slamming my back against the mirrored panelling. Instinctively my legs wrapped around his body, joining us tightly together.
The second Q rested between my legs, he thrust upward, grinding himself violently against me. His glowing eyes captured mine, his mouth tightening into a grimace. “Fuck, I’m hard. Can you feel it? Fucking hell, Tess. Qu'est-ce que t’es en train de me faire ?”
What are you doing to me?
The air no longer held oxygen, only need.
I bent my head to kiss him, but he denied me his lips. Tilting my face, I managed to find his cheek, then throat, then ear. Tracing my tongue around the shell and fleshy lobe, I murmured, “You need to be in me. I need you to be in me.”
He growled, driving up harder. The beads of my spine throbbed against the unforgiving mirror.
“You have no fucking idea, esclave . Needing you frays my patience.
The receptionist’s mouth parted slightly as she took the credit card, eyeing Q with interest. Her smile encompassed coyness rather than professionalism. I welcomed the snarl in my stomach. I loved the ignition of rage. Adored my willingness to fight.
It was so different to hurting the women in Rio. This I would gladly start and end.
Something shifted in me. Something small but fundamental as I took back a piece of my life—acknowledging my urge to hurt another.
“Is there a problem?” I said, dragging the girl’s eyes to mine. I had the sudden need to smooth my hair. I wished I wore a tailored dress or some exorbitantly expensive jewels. I felt so ordinary next to Q. But he was mine.
Hands off, bitch.
Her smile froze, turning to brittle efficiency. “No. No problem.”
We both jumped as Q slapped the counter. “When I asked for a room, I want it now, not tomorrow.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, bending to look at the computer screen. The cattiness and female challenge between us faded as her interest in Q died a quick death thanks to his rudeness.
After a second, she said, “We only have the Presidential suite available.”
“Fine. Book it.”
“How many nights will you be staying?” She fluttered those obnoxious lashes in Q’s direction.
“Not sure. Keep it open-ended.”
Her eyes popped wide; I swallowed back my smugness. Q was dangerous. He was dark. But he was also the most generous, sexy, powerful man I’d ever met.
Happiness ballooned as Q glanced my way. He didn’t acknowledge me, but we were linked too deep. We belonged.
I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
“Um, well. We can’t just hold it. It’s four thousands euros a night. Should I book for the one night, or a week, or what?”
Q bristled, electrifying the air. “Charge me whatever you want but give me the keys.” His eyes fell on me, melting the ice in my blood, turning me into a flickering candle ready to burn.
Holy crap. It wasn’t often that I blushed. But damn, Q set my cheeks on fire.
The girl dropped her eyes, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
A moment later, Q fisted the old-fashioned key she held up, and dragged me like his hard-won prey toward the elevator.
“I’ll keep the other key here for your colleague. Oh by the way, dinner is included in the room rate. I’ll advise your butler to confirm your menu selections,” the woman called after us.
Q slammed to halt, spinning back toward her. “If anyone interrupts us, I’ll have this entire hotel bulldozed to the ground. No dinner. No reservation. No menus. Nothing.” A smile decorated his face, struggling to project a businessman rather than a beast. “Merci.”
I didn’t say a word as we rushed to the elevators. He punched the ‘up’ button. His fingers tightened around mine until mini-heartbeats pounded in time with my fear.
The lift pinged. We entered.
One second.
Two seconds.
No one else entered.
Three seconds.
Four seconds.
The doors closed.
The lift hadn’t moved before Q launched himself at me.
Grabbing my hips, he hoisted me upward, slamming my back against the mirrored panelling. Instinctively my legs wrapped around his body, joining us tightly together.
The second Q rested between my legs, he thrust upward, grinding himself violently against me. His glowing eyes captured mine, his mouth tightening into a grimace. “Fuck, I’m hard. Can you feel it? Fucking hell, Tess. Qu'est-ce que t’es en train de me faire ?”
What are you doing to me?
The air no longer held oxygen, only need.
I bent my head to kiss him, but he denied me his lips. Tilting my face, I managed to find his cheek, then throat, then ear. Tracing my tongue around the shell and fleshy lobe, I murmured, “You need to be in me. I need you to be in me.”
He growled, driving up harder. The beads of my spine throbbed against the unforgiving mirror.
“You have no fucking idea, esclave . Needing you frays my patience.
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