Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

I’m bursting with anticipation as Daniel and I make the journey back to my hotel. I briefly consider asking if we can go to his place, but geographically, we’re closer to where I’m staying, and the allure of room service dessert is a little too strong to pass up.

When we’re off the train, I speed walk in front of him, peeking over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure he’s keeping up.

“You wanna walk a little faster?” I ask him, narrowly avoiding running down an elderly couple when I look forward again.

In reply, Daniel takes two large steps and moves ahead, leaving me trapped behind a group of chattering teenagers. “Fast enough for you?” he calls back from five people in front of me.

I flip him the finger but laugh, dodging bodies to catch up. He grabs my hand when I reach him and lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of my knuckles. I groan, a heavy ache settling low in my belly. We’re in the middle of Midtown, surrounded by thousands of people, and I’m so turned on that I honestly want him to fuck me against the window of the one-dollar pizza place.

Thankfully, I have some semblance of self-control, but when we’re forced to wait for the elevator in the lobby of my hotel, I can’t help but press close to him.

“I missed you,” I admit as I breathe in the scent of him. “I don’t care if that sounds sappy. That was way too long to be apart.”

He wraps his arms around my shoulders and smirks. “That’s a little forward to say on our first date, don’t you think?”

I pull back, but he dips his head and catches my earlobe between his teeth, halting my movement.

“You were always on my mind,” he murmurs. “When I was on the beach. Out with my boys. In my childhood bedroom at night. In church with my abuela. It was always you.”

I exhale, my heart racing and my need growing. “You better stop talking like that before I come right here in the lobby.”

He chuckles and lifts his head, but not before pressing a kiss to my jaw. “That’s okay. Let these people know what I do to you. I’ll still make you come again. And again, and again.”

Before I can melt into a puddle at his feet, the elevator arrives and Daniel guides me in. I stay pressed to him, fantasizing about a time when we can be together more often. For now, it’s just a dream, but maybe one day…

We’re kissing by the time the doors open again and fumble, desperate for touches, all the way down the hall. I produce my room key from my back pocket and shove it at him, knowing I don’t have the fine motor skills to open the door quickly in my state. He thankfully takes care of it in one smooth move, his lips barely leaving mine.

The door slams behind us, and I wrestle out of my jacket as he does the same. Then he’s grabbing me again for more heated kisses. I gasp against his mouth as he grips my ass and lifts me. My back hits the wall with enough force to shake the artwork hanging on it. I spread my legs, and he settles between them, the bulge in his pants pressed to me as I hook my ankles together at the base of his spine.

“You gonna fuck me against the wall, Daniel?” I pant, already working the buttons of his shirt.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

“I would if you were wearing a dress,” he replies, and the next thing I know, he’s striding to the bed and pressing me into the mattress. “You make my life so difficult, Selene.”

“I’m so sorry,” I mock as he pulls off my shoes. “I should have known better than to wear appropriate clothing for this wea—Oh, fuck.”

He’s got his hands down my pants now, rubbing his thumb over the lace of my thong, and my hips buck toward his touch. If he ever needs to shut me up in the future, this is definitely a solid method.

“These feel expensive,” he notes as the soaked fabric creates friction on my sensitive skin. “How much did you spend on them?”

“Too much,” I moan, gripping the duvet.

He gives a thoughtful murmur as he drags my jeans down my legs, examining every inch of my skin in the process. “They were worth it. But I want to see the whole set.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. I sit up and pull my sweater over my head, chest heaving and my breasts practically pouring out of the delicate baby blue lace. The replying expletives from him only turn me on more.

“I am the luckiest fucking man,” he says, kissing me again, rough and thankful.

I wrap my arms around him, keeping him close, gasping as his fingers move over my pussy. I swear I could come from that alone.

There’s no way he’ll allow it, though. His touch disappears, leaving me whining and kicking at the mattress with my heels.

“I’m going to need you to fuck me immediately,” I tell him, too wound up for anything else. “As hard as you possibly can.”

He grunts as he takes over the task of unbuttoning his shirt, forcing me to watch his lingering striptease. “You’re very impatient.”

“Have you stopped to think that might be because you wouldn’t have sex with me last night?” I challenge, pushing the shirt from his shoulders before trailing my hands down his pecs, to his deliciously defined abs, to the button of his pants. “This is weeks of pent-up energy.”

He lets me touch him, lets me unbutton his jeans and yank down the zipper, all while smiling like he’s enjoying the show. “Am I just a piece of meat to you, Selene? After the beautiful date I treated you to today—”

“Oh my God, shut up,” I huff, grasping the waistband of his underwear. “It was truly the best date I’ve ever been on, okay? Like, by a longshot. You made my day, Daniel. I don’t think anyone else will ever top it.”

He raises a brow at my choice of words, making me replay them in my head.

“Not that I want anyone else to,” I tack on. “I can’t imagine wanting anyone but you.”

This time, the words register the second they’re out of my mouth. Shit. I practically just proposed to the man. In five seconds, he’ll grab his shirt and run, thanking me for the fun times and then never speak to me again. Except…didn’t he say something similar to me weeks ago? Maybe this is just—

My thoughts are cut short when he grips my hip and rolls me onto my stomach. I don’t even have a chance to ask what he’s doing before he’s pulling me onto my hands and knees and ripping my thong down my legs. I gasp when he nudges my thighs apart and the cool air hits my slick, heated skin. My need for him is nothing short of ravenous.

“I told you last night that I couldn’t go easy on you,” he says, his voice rough. “I’m going to make good on that promise now.”

At the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open behind me, I garner enough wherewithal to grab the headboard. Half a second later, he pushes into me with one hard thrust. There are stars behind my eyes as he pulls out and does it again, with more force this time, and I can’t hold back the scream of pleasure that comes with it. Our date was gentle intimacy, but as he wraps my hair around his fist and pulls, he gives me the fire I’ve been begging for.

His strokes are deep and steady, angled exactly where I want them and hitting that delicate spot inside me that has my thighs shaking in no time. I’m already panting, but I manage to get out the words “don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He moves faster, curling over me and dragging his teeth down my neck. It’s sure to leave a mark, but I’ll be proud to wear it and I’ll happily let him give me more.

I can’t help the curses that leave my lips as he wraps his fingers around my throat and squeezes softly, then ghosts his fingertips down my body. My hardened nipples sting under the soft lace as he rolls them between his fingers, sending arcs of electricity through me.

He skates his hand down my stomach and lower. A gasp escapes me when his fingers find my clit, circling and caressing, pressing and teasing. I almost knock his hand away because it’s too much. It’s like my brain is short-circuiting. I can’t process the contrast between the way he slams into me and how he tenderly tortures my clit, but if he stops either, I’ll lose my mind.

Or maybe I’m already losing it. I’m already a hostage to the sensation, a willing participant in this no-holds-barred storm of desire, so I arch my back and give him all of me.

Every thrust sends me reeling. Every muscle in my body pulls taut. And when he murmurs, “You feel so fucking good,” I’m done for.

I cry out his name. My hands slip from the headboard, but he doesn’t ease up as I pulse around him. I come so hard I can’t breathe. It’s like drowning in the ocean. The waves press me under and under and under, and when I surface, the air in my lungs feels like a prize.

Eyes closed, I’m still riding the wave when he pulls out and flips me onto my back again. My head is up in the clouds, eyes half-closed and cheek turning to rest on the pillow, until Daniel’s fingers find my jaw.

“Look at me.”

I follow his command. Above me, his eyes are dark and intense. The look sends a sharp thrill through me. He holds my gaze as he sinks back into me—slowly this time, carefully. He’s given me what I needed, that brutal release, and now he’s taking what he wants.

And I’ll let him. Whatever it is, he can have it. He can have me.

I cling to him as his hips move, touching every inch of skin I can reach. I trace the swirls of ink on his shoulder, the curves of his biceps, the sharp lines of his jaw, memorizing it all. If there ever comes a day when I can’t have him, I want to remember how he felt now—how he made me feel in return, like a goddess worthy of veneration.

As he fucks me, he murmurs in my ear. Sweet words, filthy words, little phrases of adoration in the language he feels most at home in. Every uttered syllable makes me beg him for more. I clutch at him, hoping my gasps and the way I say his name tell him everything I want him to know.

I pant and moan at the slow rhythm he sets, at the way his cock fills me so perfectly and how my belly tightens more and more and more until I’m crying out for release again.

The feeling building inside me is low and heavy. It threatens to consume every atom of my existence. Yet it’s somehow still growing. My walls tighten around him, dragging a groan from his lips.

“Stay with me, baby,” he exhales in my ear, smoothing back my hair as I writhe.

I want to sob, to plead with him and my body to give me just a little more—and then he does. All it takes is a tiny shift and friction when his pelvis moves against my clit, and I’m there, coming so hard that I can’t speak.

I’m limp beneath him. My breaths are ragged and my throat is raw from screaming. Yet I’m greedy enough to want more, and he doesn’t stop.

Pressing my head into the pillow behind me, I clutch the sheets. “How are you still going?” I ask breathlessly.

“I just want more of you,” he says against my neck, but soon, his strokes stutter. “All of you.”

He already has me, body and heart, but instead of confessing the truth to him, I lift my mouth to his, sharing a breath before I fuse our lips. The connection is achingly soft and full of everything I can’t say.

A moment later, he drives his hips into mine and keeps them there, and I know then that I’m ruined for all others.

There’s no one else for me but him.