: Chapter 21

The Dumbest, Hottest Mistake I Ever Made

Sloane

It was the longest elevator ride of my life, and my room was only on the fourth floor. The atmosphere between us was charged with something that felt like lightning. We didn’t touch, didn’t look at each other. We both just stared straight ahead at the brushed gold doors.

His stony, silent presence made it feel like the car was closing in on me.

This was a bonkers idea. It was so stupid I still wasn’t sure I was going to say yes once we got to my room. Could two people who rubbed each other so wrong figure out how to rub each other the right way for just one night? Doubtful.

This was definitely a mistake. A big, dumb mistake.

But at least I’d finally know, I rationalized as the elevator doors opened and we exited.

Maybe I owed it to my teenage self. I could put the years of “what if” to rest and move on. Besides, it had been months since I’d even been kissed, let alone properly laid.

There was also the possibility that he would be terrible in bed. That thought cheered me considerably. One mediocre roll in the hay and Lucian Rollins would be out of my system forever.

“Never play poker.”

Lucian’s sudden proclamation had me blinking as I dug through my clutch for the key card.

“What? Why?”

He shook his head. “Your face broadcasts every thought like an open book.”

I scoffed. “It does not.”

He took the card from my hand and opened my door. “The only way sex will be disappointing is if it’s your fault.”

My mouth fell open. “That’s not what I was thinking,” I lied. “And if the sex is bad, it’s one hundred percent your fault. I’m great at sex.”

“We’ll see,” he said before pushing me across the threshold into the room.

It was a nice space chosen with the practicality of a one-­night stand in mind. There was a fluffy king-­size bed with the extra pillows I’d asked for. The bathroom had flattering lighting and a tiled walk-­in shower. And best of all, there was an extensive twenty-­four-­hour room service menu I could order off once I’d kicked Lucian to the curb.

He shut the door and locked it, then turned to face me.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like Little Red Riding Hood coming face-­to-­face with the big, bad wolf. He was so…big. So frowny. He was looking at me like I’d pissed him off somehow in the last four seconds.

Nervously, I wet my lips and caught the interest in those cold, gray eyes.

He was standing legs braced, hands fisted at his sides, staring me down like I was the enemy…or a conquest.

Were we really about to do this? Would this end up being just one more dirty, little secret between the two of us?

“We should discuss ground rules,” I announced.

Lucian set my key card down with a snap on the table, his eyes no longer cold. Now they smoldered with a heat that licked at my skin.

What had I been saying?

Oh right. Rules. Rules were good.

“I don’t think we should kiss—­”

I didn’t get to finish the sentence because Lucian’s hand snaked out, gripped my wrist, and yanked me into him. Hard. I was off-­balance and fell into his chest. My bones reverberated from the collision of our bodies.

And then his mouth crashed down on mine.

Dear God.

There was nothing icy about the man against me. He was hot and hard.

I opened my mouth to breathe or insult him, but he took advantage and his tongue swept past my lips. It plundered as it went, turning my insults into unintelligible, needy moans.

It was pure possession. With one kiss, Lucian held my body captive.

He kissed like he’d invented it. And I followed his lead as if I had no choice in the matter.

He dragged his mouth away from mine and swore. “Fuck,” he muttered, glaring down at me.

“Problem?” It came out as a breathless taunt.

“You’re my problem,” he growled.

I shoved at the unyielding chest beneath the crisp button-­down. “If you’re just going to fight with me, I’m going back to the bar.”

I made it exactly two inches in the direction of the door before his hands were on me again. A delicious sense of triumph rolled up my spine. It was the biggest win I’d scored against him in years. His self-­control was—­in my opinion—­infuriating.

This time, he didn’t just pull me to him, he lifted me off the floor and pinned me against the closest wall…with his body. My feet dangled inches above the carpet as his king-­size erection lodged itself against me, effectively skewering me to the wall like a butterfly in a shadow box.

I was a lust-­filled rag doll, and his casual show of strength had my vagina swooning. He looked at me like he wanted to destroy me. And I loved it. There was no hiding behind a cold, calculating mask now.

The man may have had a poker face, but there was no such thing as a poker dick.

As if to demonstrate, he rolled his hips, thrusting powerfully against me.

I groaned irritably against his mouth. “Of course you have a big dick.”

“And of course you’re disappointed by that fact when I’m about to fuck you with it,” he shot back.

I hitched my thighs around his hips as high as my dress would allow. “I’d always thought the whole all-­powerful, shadowy puppet master thing was an overcompensation for a cocktail wiener.”

“Your fucking mouth,” he growled. He used both hands to shove the skirt of my dress up around my hips. I gasped as his erection lodged itself against my pretty, one-­night-­stand panties.

“What about it?”

“It’s why you have to troll bars for unsuspecting men. Why you aren’t dating. Why you’re not married with four kids.” He punctuated each sentence with another bruising kiss.

“Yeah? Well, at least it’s not my personality. You’re stupidly hot and ridiculously rich, and even that isn’t enough to keep a girlfriend for longer than a few weeks.” I nipped his lower lip with my teeth and he hissed.

He pulled back a few inches, leaving us connected below the waist. “How would you know that unless you’ve been paying attention?”

He was teasing me, body, mind, and soul, and for the first time, it occurred to me that I might not be up to the challenge.

“I don’t pay attention to anything that involves you,” I insisted. “I hate being bored.”

His exhale was closer to a growl than a sigh. With one hand, he took both my wrists and pinned them over my head. “Goddammit, why are you so fucking small?” He gritted out the words like they physically pained him.

His next kiss was tempered, restrained.

My eyelids popped open. Lucian Rollins was afraid of hurting me. The big, evil asshole was afraid of fucking me too hard with his giant penis.

“Jesus, big guy. I’m petite, not fragile. Get over it.”

“Just because I want you out of my life doesn’t mean I want to hurt you.”

I gripped his waist with my thighs and squeezed. “Either fuck me hard and fast or get out of my room so I can find someone who will. I don’t want to be treated like some glass figurine.”

“You always think you can handle more than you can,” he said, removing his hand from my wrists and curling his fingers into the neckline of my dress.

“And you always think I’m weaker than I am,” I hissed.

With one sharp tug of his fingers, the fabric ripped all the way to my belly button and my breasts spilled free.

“Christ.”

Lucian’s nostrils flared and his gaze scored my chest, making my nipples pucker, my breasts feel swollen and heavy.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was us panting.

“Damn it, Lucifer. You owe me a new one-­night-­stand dress.”

“Try going downstairs now.” His words were a low rumble of thunder.

My nipples hardened to rosy points.

“You think I don’t have a backup dress in that bag?” I taunted. I leaned forward until my lips brushed his ear. “That one shows even more cleavage.” I nipped his earlobe and felt the shudder that rolled through him.

“You’re not leaving this room,” he vowed.

My snarky comeback was lost as he filled his hands with my breasts.

My head fell back against the wall with a thunk. His palms were warm and firm against my soft, sensitive flesh. I’d developed early and spent my teen years wishing the puberty fairy hadn’t been quite so generous, but in this moment, it was all worth it.

My stoic enemy couldn’t suppress a groan of satisfaction as his hot mouth closed over one needy nipple and began to suck.

I gasped. I didn’t mean to. It seemed safer, smarter to control my outward reactions. But the hungry pulls of his mouth, the throb of his God-­given erection between my legs had my head spinning.

His mouth was performing magic with tongue and suction. His eyes were closed, fringed with long, dark lashes. What he was doing to me didn’t feel like a by-­product of hate. It felt like reverence.

His beard was deliciously rough against my skin. His cologne enveloped me like a euphoric fog. I bucked against his thick, hard shaft, against the heat of his body, begging for more. Begging to be taken and used and pleasured.

Too soon, he released me from his mouth, leaving my nipple straining and wet.

“We have one night,” he said.

“Then take your shirt off so we can get started.”

He nuzzled his cheek against my breast, sending arrows of fire straight to my core.

“This isn’t the beginning of something,” he warned. His tongue darted out and danced over the other puckered peak.

I sucked in a breath. “Do you always talk your dates to death before you have sex?”

“I’m simply making sure we’re on the same page.”

“I can’t tell if you’re talking to me or my boobs, but frankly, we’re all in agreement. I could never date a smoker. This is just sex. Don’t make me regret choosing you tonight.”

His gray eyes danced with sterling fire, the corner of his mouth lifted in a confident smirk. With an expert upthrust against me, he filled his hands with my breasts, and I lost my train of thought.

I attacked his tie, nearly choking him in an effort to loosen it, but he was too fixated on my chest to notice the lack of oxygen. The hot suction of his mouth was driving me mad, and I was already dangerously close to coming thanks to the position of his cock against me.

Tie finally freed, I shoved his jacket off his shoulders.

He abandoned my breasts with an irritable snarl that I felt in my core and shed his jacket. I managed to register the fact that he was too busy fondling me to pick up and fold his clothes as I’d assumed Sexy Time Lucian would.

“You’re smiling,” he said accusingly.

“No, I’m not,” I snapped, forcing the corners of my mouth down.

“The only thing I want your mouth doing tonight is opening to say my name.”

“Really? That’s the only thing?” I smirked.

In response, Lucian pulled me away from the wall. Less than a heartbeat later, I was flat on my back on the bed and he was kneeling between my legs, his hands guiding my knees wider as he stared heavy-­lidded at what was revealed to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, staring down between my legs at what I could only assume was the wettest thong in the history of thongery. His hands slid from my knees and fisted at his sides. Another display of self-­control. I’d had enough of it. I wanted him off the leash.

I reached for his belt. “Lose the shirt.”

He hesitated for the barest of seconds before complying.

He worked the buttons free with one hand while the other loosely collared my neck. A show of dominance I found… Well, honestly, I found it fucking hot.

I yanked his belt open and got to work on his fly. His erection was straining so hard against the fabric it was a damn wonder it hadn’t ripped free yet. He probably had a tailor reinforce all his crotch seams.

With his zipper finally opened, the treasure I sought was barely contained by a silky pair of black boxer briefs.

Lucian ripped the shirt down his arms, baring his disgustingly awesome torso. There was muscle. A lot of it. The scars I’d known he had were gone. In their place were tattoos.

My heart lurched.

Without thinking, I ran my finger over one long, slivery imperfection over his ribs. The scar had been partially camouflaged with an inked griffin. A symbol of strength and power.

Lucian sucked in a breath as if I’d hurt him somehow, then shoved the remains of my dress up to my waist.

“That’s better,” I said, rewarding his show of impatience by smugly sliding my palm up the length of his shaft. He was so thick, so hard now that the blunt crown had breached the waistband of his underwear.

He towered over me, one hand behind me on the mattress. The other he used to stroke my cheek, my jaw, my neck. Our eyes met. I didn’t recognize what I found in his, but it took my breath away. His gaze bored into me, an unbreakable connection.

As we stared straight into each other’s souls, he released my face and trailed his fingers all the way down my torso to the naughty, red satin that covered my center.

“You’re fucking soaked and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He sounded annoyed by that fact.

“What’s your point?” I retorted.

“Is it for me, or was it for one of them downstairs?”

“Does it matter?”

His thumb pressed against the wet spot, causing my legs to spasm around his hips. My empty channel pulsed greedily, craving more. “It matters,” he gritted the words out.

Rather than answer him, I hooked my fingers in the band of his briefs and yanked the silky material away from my prize.

I barely managed to swallow my gasp. King-­size didn’t do it justice. Lucian Rollins was the proud owner of the biggest cock I’d ever seen in my life.

“Jesus, Lucifer. What do your dates usually do? Unhinge their jaws?” I demanded.

His eyes seemed to glow as he looked down at me. “You and your fucking mouth.”

He looked like he wanted to punish me for the last two decades of misery, and some dark, depraved part of me wanted him to try.

“What are you going to do about it?” I taunted, gripping the thick base of his shaft.

His nostrils flared and a bead of moisture welled up from the slit in his crown.

My entire focus zeroed in on his thick, rigid erection. I was going to come so fucking hard.

If I could get him to fuck me from behind, I could muffle my screams in a pillow so he wouldn’t know. Women had been faking orgasms for centuries. I could fake not having one. And wouldn’t that throw him for a loop? I liked the idea of getting off while dinging his self-­confidence.

“Whatever it is you’re plotting, it won’t work,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied and began to stroke the thick column of flesh.

I saw a flash of teeth, the narrowing of his eyes, and then nothing because in one swift move, he yanked my thong to the side and thrust two fingers inside me.

“Lucian!”

So much for muffling my pleasure. I was so wet, so hot, my sex practically sucked him in deeper. The untended muscles of my inner walls spasmed around him.

He swore darkly, and his cock flexed in my hand.

“Don’t come.” The order was delivered through gritted teeth.

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me, Pixie. I want to be inside you the first time you come. I want to feel you fall apart.”

The first time? I scoffed. Mr. Big Dick had an ego the size of…well, his gargantuan penis. I was a one and done kind of gal. Multiples were for romance novel heroines…and Naomi and Lina.

“Then you’d better hurry the hell up,” I warned. I shoved my other hand between our bodies and cupped his heavy sack and double-­timed my strokes. I needed him to be as close as I was. I needed him to feel as out of control as I did.

He glared down at me, jaw tight, muscles tensed. He looked as though he were hanging on by one thin thread. I gripped harder.

His hands were in my dress again. There was a rending of fabric, and the entire thing fell open, leaving me in just my underwear and stilettos.

“Safe word,” he demanded as his hand covered mine on his dick.

“You’re either severely overestimating your prowess or once again underestimating what I can handle.”

“Give me your safe word, Pix.”

He enunciated the sentence as if I were both aggravating and stupid.

“If it’ll get you to move things along, fine. Library.”

“Good girl,” he growled.

I didn’t know what it said about me, but those two words delivered so gruffly from him had my inner walls spasming around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Can we get this show on the road?” I demanded. If he so much as crooked his fingers, I was going to come all over him, and I preferred to do that on his monster penis.

He glared down at me. “You’re so beautiful and so goddamn irritating at the same time.”

“I get that a lot. Condoms are in my clutch,” I announced.

Reluctantly, Lucian withdrew his fingers. I didn’t quite manage to smother my moan.

“Christ. How much sex were you expecting to have?” he demanded, dangling a roll of foil-­wrapped birth control over me.

I shrugged. “There’s more in the nightstand. I guess I probably won’t need more than one since I ended up with you.”

Lucian pushed my hands away from his dick and rolled on a condom over what had to be a Guinness World Record penis. “You’d be a lot more attractive if you’d shut up.”

“Your dick doesn’t seem to mind my mouth,” I pointed out. I was going for sheer bravado at this point. Because it had suddenly occurred to me I could be on the receiving end of a serious vaginal injury from an appendage of that girth.

Would people take one look at my gait tomorrow and know that Lucian had fucked the ability to walk out of me? Would my one-­night stand destroy my ability to stand?

Lucian took the long, thick shaft in one hand and guided the tip to my slick entrance. My knees shifted higher of their own accord, making the corner of his mouth curl in amusement. “Someone’s eager.”

“Are you gonna loom over me all night or do something interesting?” I demanded.

In response, he dragged the crown of his shaft through my slick folds, pausing to nudge my already swollen clit. The promise of it had my core contracting. I tried to bow off the bed but his hand on my chest held me in place. Again and again, he moved over my sex, spearing himself between my spread legs until my thighs trembled and he’d spread my wetness everywhere.

Jesus, I was going to have to call housekeeping for a fresh set of sheets when this was over since he’d turned my own body into one gigantic wet spot.

Neither of us could deny the attraction now. And I was one thousand percent sure he was going to make me come. I’d just have to pretend I wasn’t.

Lucian paused midthrust, and my ab muscles went into spasm.

There was nothing holding him back from jamming that gigantic penis inside me. I let my knees fall open and reveled at the feel of him against my flesh. An insistent, throbbing pressure built inside me.

If either one of us moved a millimeter, he’d officially be inside me. And damn it, I wanted it. I wanted him.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I opened my eyes and tried to keep my expression neutral. “Why?”

“Because I want to see your eyes when I take you.”

Gulp.

“Then hurry the hell up, because I’m about to fall asleep from boredom here.”

I felt his muscles coil under my palms, against my torso and thighs. He entered me with one vicious thrust.

Time stopped.

Oxygen ceased to exist.

Everything I knew to be true flew from my head to make room for one crystal clear realization: Lucian Rollins was inside me.

“Breathe, Sloane.” The command sounded pained.

I sucked in a wheezy breath.

“Christ. Baby, I need you to relax.” Lucian’s forehead met mine. “You don’t have all of it yet.”

I didn’t have all of it yet? I was already stretched to max capacity. I was one tiny wiggle away from orgasming all over however many inches he’d managed to cram inside me.

“Again, Pix. Breathe for me,” he ordered.

I managed a deeper breath this time and felt my muscles give ever so slightly.

“That’s my girl.” His voice was a rough caress. “Again.”

This time, the oxygen came easier. I forced myself to relax, muscle by muscle, until I was no longer clinging to the man like a horny barnacle.

“Okay, I think I—­”

Lucian fucked the thought right out of my head. I had him all. Every throbbing inch of him had invaded. I was pinned to the bed on the verge of supreme sexual satisfaction, and there was no going back.

I screamed something unintelligible.

“Fuck,” he rasped.

Oh no. It was happening. I felt it building in my body. Two thrusts and Lucian Rollins was about to make me come. The early tremors began. I could feel those delicate little muscles fluttering over his hard flesh.

I had to hide it. Had to pretend it wasn’t happening.

A rumble let loose in Lucian’s chest. He was scowling at me, into me like he was pissed off that it felt so good. I wasn’t happy about it either. And then he moved and I forgot what I was thinking because I was falling apart.

The orgasm detonated inside me, ripping through my body and annihilating everything that had ever existed before Lucian’s cock entered me. I rippled, convulsed, writhed around him, clinging to him with nails and teeth as colors burst behind my eyelids like an erotic fireworks display.

Every inch of me from my glittery toenails to the roots of my hair participated in the ecstasy.

This wasn’t the best orgasm of my life. Because this wasn’t an orgasm. This was a life-­altering religious experience. It rolled on and on, wave after wave of pleasure.

I was trembling from the aftershocks, each one more satisfying than any orgasm I’d ever had in my entire sexual career.

“You just came on my cock.”

I pried one eye open to peer into his unfairly handsome face. He looked smug, as to be expected. But there was something else there. Wonder? Awe? Possession?

“I did not. You’re mistaken,” I panted. My throat hurt, which I found odd. Was I coming down with something? Had Lucian’s giant penis thrust so far into my body that I got a sore throat?

“You just screamed ‘Lucian, I’m coming’ loud enough that I’m probably going to have to call down to security to assure them everything is fine.”

That explained the sore throat.

“Well, that was fun and all. I think I’ll go back down to the bar and—­”

Lucian showed me exactly what he thought of that empty threat by sealing his mouth over mine and driving into the very depths of me.

His long, hard body pressed mine deeper into the mattress as he thrust with expert precision. Even now, he was so controlled, and I felt like I was spinning off into space.

I dug my nails into his shoulders. “Stop treating me like I’m going to break.”

He stilled, another annoying display of willpower.

“Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Unless you hit me in the eye with that nightstick between your legs, you’re not going to hurt me. You’ve got this one night to fuck me any way you want me. Don’t waste it being some gentle giant.”

“Sloane.”

He packed quite the ominous warning into my name. But there was a spark, a question in those liquid silver eyes.

“Lucian.” I gripped his face in my hands and dug my heels into his firm butt cheeks. “I want you to take me hard.” It was what I needed. What he needed. If we were really going to get this out of our systems, we had to do it the right way.

I felt the involuntary twitch of his cock inside me. He wanted it too.

“I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” I added.

“Promise?” The question was a gravelly rasp.

“I promise. Now fuck me like you mean it.”

The man delivered.

He rose up on his knees, gripped my ass with his palms, and unleashed the beast within.

My body accepted his brutally beautiful thrusts with something that felt like joy, which made absolutely no sense. There was something in his eyes that didn’t match the grim set of his jaw. Something softer, brighter.

I ignored it and shifted my legs restlessly as a warmth started to build in my core.

Reading my mind, Lucian hooked my ankles over his shoulders and bent me in half.

I was pinned. Conquered. Completely at his mercy. And I loved it.

Sweat slicked our skin as our eyes met and locked as his body pumped into mine.

The tendons in his neck stood out fiercely, and his biceps bulged as he relentlessly drove me toward heaven. Or maybe it was hell. It didn’t matter.

I was quivering from the inside out.

“Lucian!” It was a low, keening wail.

His erection seemed to swell even bigger, and he gritted his teeth. “Damn you, Pixie,” he snarled. He brought one hand to my jaw, holding my head still. Those beautiful storm cloud eyes went glassy as I clamped down around him.

“Please,” I whispered. I didn’t know what I was asking for, what I wanted from him. But Lucian understood. He gave one final vicious upthrust, and his body went rigid.

I didn’t think. I just reached up and grabbed his face in my hands and we stared into each other’s eyes as I experienced my first second orgasm of my life.

A shout tore loose from his throat, and I felt him ejaculate. For one stupid, fleeting moment, I wished there wasn’t anything between us. No protection to stop me from experiencing every sensation of Lucian’s climax.

He was moving again, short, jerky thrusts as he used my orgasm to milk his own. He used my body for his pleasure, and that made me come harder.

We kept right on coming, muscles trembling, breath panting as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“This is the dumbest, hottest mistake I’ve ever made,” I moaned.