Craving His Touch

POV: Valerie.

A searing heat coils low in my belly as I flutter my heavy eyelids and meet a pair of piercing, ocean-blue eyes. The sheer intensity in his gaze pins me firmly in place against the plaster wall. His broad chest heaves against mine, radiating a primal warmth. Before I can draw another breath, he buries his face into the hollow of my throat, his hot mouth sucking and licking across my sensitive flesh. A wanton cry escapes my throat. I cannot fathom how a man I met less than twenty minutes ago can command my body so thoroughly.

His massive, calloused palms slide down my ribs, trailing rough heat through the thin fabric of my dress. He grips my waist tight, squeezing my hips and pulling me flush against the rigid plane of his pelvis. I feel the hard outline of his arousal pressing into my stomach, and the friction sends a sharp jolt of pure need straight between my thighs. Every lusty moan I make is swallowed whole when his mouth crashes back over mine. His wet tongue tangles with mine in a ruthless rhythm, claiming the depths of my mouth.

My hands grip his broad shoulders to anchor myself as my knees threaten to give out. He breaks the kiss, panting softly against my lips. His large hand slips boldly inside the plunging neckline of my red dress. Without hesitation, he shoves the silky fabric down, wrenching my lace bra cup aside to bare my breast to the cool air of the secluded room.

His bare hand clamps over my exposed flesh. He kneads and massages the aching fullness of my breast, his rough palm creating a wicked friction that sends electric shocks rippling through my veins. Arching my back off the wall, I press my chest directly into his possessive grip. I whimper loudly as his rough thumb and forefinger find my erect nipple, pinching and tugging the hardened peak.

Wet heat floods my lace panties in a relentless wave, soaking the delicate fabric. My core aches with raw need, a deep throbbing that demands release. I shift my stance, my high heels scraping against the carpet as I try to alleviate the mounting pressure between my legs.

Then, his dark head drops down. His hot, wet mouth seals over my bared nipple. He sucks the sensitive peak into his mouth with greedy force, swirling his tongue around the tight bud. My knees buckle under the sheer ecstasy of the sensation. He keeps me upright with a crushing grip on my waist, pulling me tighter against his rock-hard body. Sweet, wet sucking sounds echo in the quiet space between us, mingling with my breathless gasps.

"Ahh… please…" I whisper, barely recognizing the desperate, sultry tone of my own voice.

This man reduces me to a trembling, needy mess. He pulls his mouth away from my glistening nipple, leaving the swollen peak sensitive and aching in the cool air.

His hands slide from my hips, trailing down my bare thighs. His rough palms grip the hem of my tight red dress, hiking the fabric up and pooling it around my waist. The cool air hits my damp lace underwear. I part my legs in silent invitation, begging for his touch. My drenched pussy throbs with an agonizing pulse. I expect his fingers to slip past the lace, to stroke my swollen clit and relieve the maddening pressure building inside me.

Instead of sliding his hand between my thighs to alleviate the throb, he shifts his stance. He wedges his thick, muscular thigh high between my parted legs. The rough denim of his jeans presses firmly against my soaked panties, trapping the sensitive bundle of nerves between his hard leg and my own body. He grabs my hips, holding me in place as he asserts his dominance. Driven mad by the friction and the unbearable heat, I lose all sense of shame.

I press down, grinding my soaked pussy shamelessly against his hard leg. The thick seam of his jeans rubs directly against my swollen clit through the wet lace, sending a jolt of lightning straight up my spine. I rock my hips back and forth, riding his thigh with desperate need. Every time I push my hips forward, my wetness smears against the fabric, slick and heavy. The throbbing ache in my core amplifies, demanding more pressure, more friction, more of him. I whine in the back of my throat, my fingers digging harder into his broad shoulders. I cannot stop my body from moving. I need the friction to soothe the burning heat inside me. I thrust my pelvis against his leg in a rhythmic, lewd dance, chasing the elusive climax that hovers just out of reach.

He smirks down at me. The smug, predatory curve of his lips sends another rush of heat straight to my dripping core. His intense blue eyes drop to track the frantic movement of my hips before snapping back up to lock onto my gaze.

"Your hips are moving so lewdly. You are grinding your pussy against my leg… do you want it that badly?" he murmurs.

His voice is dripping with filthy amusement. The explicit words hit me like a physical strike. Hearing him call out my desperate, lewd behavior turns me on even more. It is raw and dirty, fueling the fire burning in my belly. I stop grinding for a fraction of a second, my chest heaving as I stare straight into his smoldering blue eyes.

I am unraveling, stripped bare of all my defenses by a stranger in a hotel room. My body controls my mind, and my body screams for him to touch my bare flesh.

"Touch me, please." I beg him in a ragged, breathless whisper.

His charming, devastating smile widens, revealing a flash of white teeth in the shadows. He knows exactly what he is doing to me.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks.

His suggestive tone leaves no room for misunderstanding. He wants me to say it. He wants me to show him exactly how greedy I am. Without breaking eye contact, I reach down and take his thick wrist. His skin is burning hot under my fingers. I pull his large, capable hand down past my waist, moving it directly toward my dripping wet pussy.

"Here… touch me here… please," I answer.