“No.”
Still swaying to the intense beat of the music, my arm still wrapped around his neck, my body still pressed to his, Jet reaches up under the opposite edge of my skirt and quickly tears the other side of my panties. I feel them drop slightly away from my body.
My pulse is thumping in my ears, louder than any music in this whole town, as Jet pushes my hips away from his just enough that he can reach up the back of my skirt and tug my panties from between my legs. Slowly, he pulls on the material, the slight friction of the silk over my sensitive flesh making my insides clench in the most delicious way.
When there is nothing under my skirt but the warm New Orleans air, I hear Jet whisper in my ear. “Now you can walk around all night knowing that your damp panties are in my pocket.”
“They weren’t damp,” I deny, ignoring the warmth that suffuses my face.
“You’re so wet for me, baby, I can almost smell that delectable body of yours. Mmm, so sweet.”
“You’re lying,” I breathe, trapped in the honey of his words.
“Am I?”
Bending me sharply forward, his body folding over mine from behind, Jet runs his hand up the inside of my thigh and eases his thumb into me. I can’t stop the moan that bubbles up in my chest and spills from my lips.
My heart is pounding. My blood is on fire. When Jet straightens, I can feel my body squeezing, begging for more. The ache is almost more than I can withstand. I say his name. It’s the only other sound that will make it through my parted lips. “Jet.”
When he whirls me to face him, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding me tight against him, I nearly crumble at the heated look on his face.
With his eyes on mine, Jet brings his thumb to my mouth and drags it along my lower lip before sliding it inside to rake it over my tongue.
“Still think you’re not wet for me?”
I swirl my tongue over his skin, loving the way he sucks in a breath, the way his pupils get even bigger.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
Jet pulls his thumb from between my lips. I watch as he brings it to his mouth and slowly licks the moisture from it.
Inching his face toward mine, Jet asks softly, “Do you know what that tastes like?”
“What?” I manage.
“More.”
His hands move down to the base of my spine, pressing me into him, pressing my softness into his powerful hardness.
“Tell me yes, Violet,” Jet says, his lips so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on them.
“Yes to what?” I ask, feeling dazed in the face of such overwhelming attraction and desire.
“Yes to everything.” Jet flicks his tongue over the corner of my mouth. “Please,” he adds, licking at my bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth to suck on it.
I feel a tight, throbbing sensation in the lowest part of my stomach, a throb I know won’t go away until I can feel Jet touching every part of me.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Jet’s lips take mine in a kiss that leaves my head spinning. The world is a blur of light and color and sound and heat by the time he leads me back out into the street.
I lose count of how many times he stops, right in the middle of the sidewalk, right in the middle of the teeming street, to kiss me. My whole being is on fire for him. Every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips, every look that he sends me makes me melt on the inside.
In the elevator at the hotel, Jet is pushing me into the corner the instant the doors close. Kissing and touching, biting and sucking, he throws gasoline on an already raging inferno. When he reaches under the short hem of my dress and pushes one long finger into me, I do the only thing I can. I hang on, tight. To his shoulders, to my sanity, to the feeling that bliss is just around the corner, I hang on.
“This is all for me,” he moans, thrusting another finger into me, deeper than the first. He pulls them out and rubs the slick tips over my clitoris, pinching it lightly. I cry out, unable to help myself. “I don’t think I can wait to taste you, Violet,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of me and pushing my legs apart.
I look down, both astounded and more aroused than I’ve ever been. Jet is watching me, his eyes never leaving mine as he leans forward and buries his tongue inside me.
I throw my head back and grip the rail with all my might, determined not to melt into a heap. Jet swirls his tongue over me before he stands again, just in time to nudge my dress down and turn to face the doors. Seconds later, they slide open.
I walk on rubbery legs to our room. Once inside, where the world is quiet and the air is cool, Jet sweeps me into his arms and carries me to my bed. Gently, he sets me on my feet at one corner of the mattress.
“Do you know how much I want you, Violet?” he asks, his lips teasing my chin and my throat while his hands roam my back. “Do you know what kinds of things I’ve dreamed of doing to you?”
His words are an aphrodisiac unto themselves. I close my eyes, concentrating on his hands and his mouth.
“Tell me.”
“I’ve dreamed of what your face would look like the first time I take one of your ni**les into my mouth.” As he speaks, his fingers nimbly work the clasp at my shoulder, loosening it and letting the bodice fall away from my chest. I feel the pucker of my ni**les against the cool air when he leans back. “God, they’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he says, cupping my br**sts in his palms. “Now I’ll know just what it feels like to slide my tongue between them.” As he speaks, I feel his lips move against me and then the wet heat of his tongue as he traces my cle**age. “And if your face looks like I imagined.” My knees nearly buckle at the first touch of his tongue to me. He laves my nipple before pulling it into his mouth to suck on it. I thread my fingers into his hair, holding him to me. “Even better than I imagined,” he declares, moving his attention to my other side, to toy with the other one. “Mmm, you like that don’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Just wait,” he murmurs against me, his hands pushing my dress down over my hips. When I’m standing before him in nothing but my heels, Jet urges me to sit on the corner of the mattress. He nudges my knees apart, my legs dropping over either side of the firm surface. “I’m gonna make you come, Violet. So hard that your body goes limp. So hard that I can feel it when I stick my tongue inside you.”
Again, Jet kneels between my legs, placing his palms against the inside of either thigh and pushing them farther apart. As I watch, he presses kisses from my knee to my groin, growing ever closer to the throb that he alone put in me. When he leans slightly forward to run his tongue down my crease, I jerk, unable to control the contraction of my muscles. I gasp, and Jet pulls me toward him, sliding his tongue inside me, licking me from the inside. I throw my head back, resting my weight on my hands behind me, lest I fall back on the bed.