Holding My Breath. AM Hartnett
texts to arrange this meeting, and not earlier when he’d entered the room.
She hadn’t wanted to know, not really, and now that she did, an odd feeling crept across her shoulders. Knowing his name made this raw and real.
The sense faded with the first swipe of his tongue over the puffy hood surrounding her clitoris, then vanished completely as his fingers curled, pushing and pulling the wet folds. Even though she lifted her hips to him, Quinn drew back and maintained his slow torture. Fingers and tongue conspired to build her longing but the man, the mastermind behind it all, wouldn’t give her release.
One glance down at him turned her ravenous. His gaze was upon her, eyes shining and brows raised slightly. As though he had been waiting for her to give him back her attention, he flexed his fingers and curled his tongue.
For a moment he merely cradled her aching clit on the tip, but that moment seemed timeless. She was perfectly still on the outside, not even breathing, but on the inside a feral thing raged. It swelled at the back of her throat, roaring and spitting, commanding her to take control, to push down on his head and grind his mouth against her wet pussy.
The hand that remained on her knee slipped out of sight. The feeling of being penetrated unlocked her silence. She reached out and pushed her fingers through his gelled hair, but she didn’t push down. She didn’t have to. She simply curled her fingers against his scalp, then moaned as he licked around and around.
Molly had entered this suite at least two dozen times since coming to the St James Suites, but to her it had always been a white box filled with ordinary furniture. She wondered how some people out there could be so turned on at the thought of coupling in a hotel room. After all, it was just a room.
Yet as he pushed two fingers deeper, she felt the sin dripping from the walls and creeping to surround her. The curtains were open and, although all the lights were off in the office building opposite the hotel, Molly tingled at the thought of someone watching in the darkness, hand on their cock or pussy as they watched. She moaned louder and fantasised about being heard by some passer-by who couldn’t resist the urge to press their ear to the door – a fellow guest or, better, one of the porters who would pass her in the hall and never know it was Molly making those noises.
And this man, this Quinn, this male prostitute with the long fingers gliding against her inner wall and tongue stroking back and forth …
He dragged his tongue downwards and slowly, sinfully withdrew his fingers. His gaze finally left her, lids fluttering closed as he fucked his tongue in and out of her.
A hungry sound came from him. It vibrated through her pussy and spread in her abdomen. She clutched at him, closing her fingers around the tacky clumps of hair. The sting she must have delivered spurred him on, and thrust his tongue deeper.
‘You big tease, is this the impression you wanted to make?’ she hissed through her teeth, then shuffled her legs until they draped over his shoulders.
He opened his eyes and drew back, wet mouth twisted in a grin. ‘You paid for two hours, and I like to make sure you get your money’s worth.’
Moving quickly, he slipped his hands under her ass. Molly released him as he dragged her aside, then unseated her until her shoulders were against the cushions and her head tucked into the crevice at the corner of the sofa. Her grip on him loosened, she reached over her head and grasped the pillows as he raised her up.
Forearms speckled with copper hair formed twin bars across her thighs. As disorienting as it was to be suspended nearly upside-down, it was the lapping of his tongue around her clit that gave her the sense of bobbing aimlessly in a vigorous surf. She tucked her ankles between his shoulder blades and rocked in tune with the hot sweep of his tongue.
He followed the slick trail back down to the mount of her cunt, but Molly wanted no more of his teasing. She slipped one hand along her body and used her fingers to spread herself out as he had done. This time he did as she beckoned. His gaze on her hot face, he dragged his tongue back and forth over her clit and over her fingers.
Now she didn’t care about anything else, not the open curtains or anyone who might be peeping outside, not the pile of crisp bills on the table and how the money was what had brought him there. The only thing in her world was the building heat between her legs.
‘Oh, yes, suck me like that,’ she managed to say through the thickness at the back of her throat.
Another growl poured out of him and through her, into the atmosphere, and she moaned as the suction of his mouth became insatiable. She became light-headed with the rush of blood through her body. Quinn twisted his head, widening his slick mouth and sealing his lips around her.
She couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, and so, as the intensity of his mouth built and built and reached its pinnacle, she stopped breathing.
With a flick of her wrist she clamped her hand over his and dug her nails in, then let her body take over. His tongue revived and danced over her clit. He squeezed her thighs to keep hold of her as she began to buck against him.
On and on it went, wave after intoxicating wave until she drowned in it.
Molly gasped, releasing the last air she had trapped inside her, as the swell abated and left her sensitive. He held on, not as firmly as before but held on nonetheless, and licked down to her throbbing gash.
That decadent tongue fuck began again. She turned her head, and through the splotches of light before her eyes she saw the leaves of paper fluttering with every breath she took.
One hundred … two hundred … three hundred …
She counted with every thrust of his tongue, every penny she had paid him to be here, then closed her eyes.
Down he went and shrugged off her legs, letting her knees hook into his elbows. Through her lashes she watched him study the slippery conclusion of the glorious climax that still throbbed in her clit.
‘When was the last time someone spread you open and gave you a hard fuck? Not a fast one that would rattle the teeth in your head, but a slow screw you can taste.’ He leaned forward, holding her open once more as he beamed that smile at her. She shook her head, and he gave a little shrug. ‘Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you want to be bent over with a hand in your hair and a cock stretching your ass.’
‘Must you …’
‘Mindfuck you? I have to admit, I get off on it a little.’ He let her legs drop and dragged her closer. He was suddenly serious, mouth firm and eyes hot. ‘Or maybe you want me to lie back and let you do what you want with me. Women like you can be hard to figure out. You always want one extreme or the other. Why don’t I take you into the bedroom and find out which side of the coin you are?’
Molly sat up and looked down between her legs, at the shining tip of his erection. As sated as she was, the temptation was killing her. She had to muster every bit of resistance in her just to speak.
‘Why don’t we take a breather?’
The tip of that hot tongue touched his upper lip, and something settled in his expression that made her heart pound even faster. He merely held her in place. His cock rested against her belly, and with its urgent throb she felt the need to relent and let him slide deep into the wet passage he’d made.
With a shake of her head, she managed to send some of the ash into the atmosphere, but the fire inside her kept burning. Now that the euphoria he had left her with started to fade, something unpleasant crept up. Unable to look at him, she writhed out of his grip and turned away from his inquisitive gaze.
‘Ah,’ he said at last, and got to his feet as she gathered up the money she’d laid out. There was a change in his demeanour. He had become softer in spite of the hard thing that jutted from the copper curls between his legs. ‘Gone shy on me, have you?’
‘It’s not that,’ she murmured, and resisted the urge to scoot away from him as he sat down next to her. ‘Really, it’s not. That was beyond spectacular, but –’
‘But