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He fucked me before check out. He didn’t even knock—just swiped the keycard and walked in like he owned the room. I was still in the hotel robe, loosely tied, the faintest drop of wine on my bottom lip. I met his stare and smiled. He knew what that meant. Without a word, he dropped his bag and came to me like he was starving. His hand slid around my neck, lips crashing into mine. My robe slid off my shoulders, exposing nothing underneath. I hadn’t worn panties on purpose. I wanted his hands on me the second he walked in.
He pushed me back onto the bed, parting my thighs with his knee, eyes locked on mine as he trailed soft kisses down my collarbone, the curve of my breasts, then lower. I could feel the heat between my legs grow unbearable as his tongue teased along my inner thigh—so close I almost begged. And then he tasted me. Slow at first, like he wanted to savor every moan, every twitch of my hips.
I reached down, threading my fingers through his hair, pressing him deeper into me. His tongue flicked, circled, then flattened against me, the pressure Continue reading “Fuck Me Before Check Out”