God, it was. But it made me feel safe. Being independent, making my own money, and working my ass off gave me security. And freedom. And only someone who’d been on the other side of all of that could appreciate it.
He reached for my hand, pulling me into him again. Our bodies pressed against each other, fitting perfectly like two fated pieces of a puzzle. He slowly raised his hand to my face, his fingers slipping through the hair at my nape and his thumb brushing against my jaw. “There’s nothing more freeing than just letting it all go, Addison.”
His mouth claimed mine.
That was quick.
It was weird kissing a stranger. I didn’t feel a thing—at least, not in my head. The more I gave in to the moment, the more my body fueled a fire that’d been a year in the making.
When Wilder finally came up for air, his piercing eyes locked on mine. “What do you say? You ready to give up control for an hour of your painstakingly-perfected life?”
I nodded. It was why I was there. He had nailed it, and I couldn’t deny how wonderful it sounded to let go.
Wilder’s chocolate brown hair was tousled on top with a slight wave to it, matching his name and setting my curiosity afire. I hated that I couldn’t read him the way he read me. I knew it was supposed to be a hook-up, a one-time thing, but how could I not want to know a little bit more about the man who had figured me out in all of three minutes?
His fingers worked my blouse one button at a time, and when he’d exposed the flesh of my bare stomach, he tugged the silky shirt off me and threw it on the floor.
“That’s Rebecca Taylor,” I said, staring at the crumpled designer, dry-clean-only top lying on the hotel carpet. He ignored me, already sliding my leather Prada leggings down my hips. He tugged my shoes off and threw each one in a different direction. I couldn’t believe he could be so disrespectful to such beautiful works of art. I had worked my ass off to buy those. I’d come a long way from back-to-school shopping at Goodwill to running into Barneys and not even having to check the price tag on a pair of shoes.
Wilder cupped my face in his hands. The cool air of the hotel room enveloped my skin, prickling goosebumps on every square inch of me.
“They’re only things,” he said, studying my face. He stood waiting, his brows arched.
“Oh, yes,” I said, realizing it was my turn to undress him. My cheeks flushed as I grabbed fistfuls of his navy blue sweater and tugged it over his hair, disheveling it even more. I ran my tongue across the fullness of my top lip as I worked his buttons and he loosened his tie, and within seconds, he was a shirtless vision of rippled abs and sculpted shoulders. He shoved his tie into his back pocket, and the second I reached for his belt buckle he stopped me, placing his hand over mine.
“This is where I take over,” he said. “This is where you lose yourself in my world for the next hour.”
The thought of giving up control both tantalized and terrified me. I quickly contained my fear, reminding myself of what I’d come there to do.
“Think you can do that, Addi?” he asked.
I groaned. “Please don’t call me Addi. That’s all I ask.”
He frowned. “I call the shots here… Addi.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Fine,” he said, leaning in and scooping his arm behind my waist. His lips found mine again and we stumbled back toward the bed. “I won’t call you Addi. But everything else I might say or do tonight, lovely, is out of your control.”
He laid me across the bed at an angle and lifted my arms above my head. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled his silk tie back out and wrapped it a couple times around my wrists before securing it to the headboard.
I tugged at the straps that bound me. I was really tied up. This wasn’t pretend. I pressed my lips together as my body tingled from head to toe and my clasped hands trembled.
As he hovered over me, the intensity of his raw verve drew attention to the burning desire in my core. He smelled like vetiver and cedar, tobacco and musk; like a rich cologne only a few fortunate individuals could afford to wear.
Wilder clicked off the lamp and lowered his body over mine. The floor-to-ceiling windows of our suite ushered in the flickering glow of New York City at night, and though we were amongst millions of people, we were in our own little world high above it all.
Wilder lowered himself to my hips, floating above my silk panties. His fingers slid beneath the waistband, traveling lower and pulling the fabric away from my mound.
“Exquisite,” he said as he admired me. Red bloomed in my cheeks, and I was thankful he couldn’t see it in the dark. “Really. Exquisite.”
And then he ripped them. My very expensive, French, silk panties. Ripped clean off me. I opened my mouth to protest.
“It’s just a thing, lovely,” he said again.
She tasted of arousal with a hint of flowers, and I smiled at the notion that she’d spent time prepping for our little encounter. With her panties lying in shreds on the floor of the hotel suite, I devoured her intricately-groomed and deliciously sexy pussy.
My tongue separated her folds as I slid a finger inside her, previewing her warmth and wetness. She was tight, almost too tight, which matched her personality perfectly.
“Relax,” I whispered. I glanced up to find her biting her tongue as her wrists wriggled and writhed against the tie the held them in place.
Soft moans escaped her full, fuckable lips, as if she were embarrassed to let herself go but couldn’t fight it off completely. I breathed in her scent, letting it flood my lungs, and continued licking and exploring her beautiful pussy.