His smirk is sharp, dangerous. “Oh, baby. I don’t get tired of you. Never could.”
That’s all it takes. He spins, carrying me across the room before tossing me onto the mattress again. The second my back hits the sheets, he’s on me with an urgency that makes my pulse spike.
His mouth is on my throat, my breasts, dragging lower, spreading fire in his wake. When his tongue flicks over my clit, I nearly arch off the bed. “Oh, fuck?—”
“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he murmurs, his voice dark amusement against my skin.
I barely manage a glare before he slides two fingers into me again, curling them just right, his tongue working me over with merciless precision. My moans are shameless, desperate. My hands fist in his hair, pulling, pushing, urging him closer. He takes it as encouragement, groaning into me as he doubles his efforts.
It doesn’t take long. The pleasure tightens, spirals, and then I’m shattering, my legs trembling, my cry muffled as I bite my own lip to keep from screaming.
Kai moves up my body, his mouth capturing mine. “You’re gonna take every inch of me,” he murmurs against my lips, positioning himself between my thighs. “And then you’re gonna beg for more.”
I don’t get a chance to respond before he thrusts into me again, filling me to the hilt in one brutal motion. My nails rake down his back, my body arching to take all of him. He groans, burying himself deep, his grip on my hips bruising as he sets a relentless rhythm.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits out. “So goddamn tight. You were made for my cock, weren’t you?”
I can’t even argue, can barely think past the pleasure slamming through me. All I can do is meet his thrusts, let him take, take, take until I’m nothing but sensation. He grips my chin, forcing my eyes to his, his expression wild, possessive.
With each thrust, he slams his full length into me. He varies his pace, angling his body so he rubs against my clit with every stroke.
“Say my name,” he demands, his pace quickening.
“Kai,” I gasp, barely able to form the word.
“Louder.”
I cry it out as I come again, my body clenching around him, dragging him over the edge with me. He follows with a guttural groan, his thrusts stuttering as he spills, his weight collapsing over me.
We lay there, breathless, sweat-slicked, completely wrecked.
“Jesus Christ,” I finally manage, voice hoarse. “I think you actually broke me.”
Kai chuckles against my neck, his breath warm. “You’re welcome.”
I swat at his shoulder, making him laugh before he rolls off me, stretching out beside me on the bed. We’re both a mess—hair tousled, skin flushed, our bodies still tangled in cooling sweat.
A knock at the door interrupts the moment.
Kai groans, dragging himself up. “That better be food, or I’m kicking them out.”
I prop myself up on my elbows as he pulls on his jeans, walking to the door. Moments later, he returns with a tray of room service—burgers, fries, and a bottle of whiskey. “I figured we’d need to refuel,” he smirks, setting it on the bed.
Oh, sothat’swho he was talking to on the phone.
I feel sheepish for jumping to conclusions earlier.
We eat naked under the covers, flipping through terrible late-night television, mocking reality show contestants and taking shots of whiskey between bites. It’s ridiculous. It’s perfect.
Kai groans, gesturing at the screen while I steal a fry from his plate and dip it in ketchup. “This man just said,‘I came here to find my best friend,’and I swear to God, if he says he’s ‘emotionally mature’ next, I’m throwing the remote. Or if they say?—”
“—for the right reasons.” I finish his sentence.
We look at each other and I nearly choke on my whiskey, and we both crack up laughing. “You know the script by heart, huh?”
“I have been personally victimized by this show. Every season. Every time.”
I narrow my eyes. “Wait. Are you telling me you actually watchLove Is Blind?”