Once inside our suite, the only thing Mash needed to remove were my jeans. He pushed me on the bed, unzipped my boots, aggressively slid my jeans down my legs and stared at me with a serious face. I was breathing heavily with anticipation when he reached down and put my boots back on, then pulled me off of the bed and said “Dance for me.”
I took my time getting into a slow rhythm up against him. I swayed in the silence until I maneuvered him onto the chair, then poured him a drink before scrolling my phone’s playlist knowing exactly what to play. As Paula Cole’s Feeling Love began to play I gave him what he wanted. His own private show in red lace lingerie.
I teased him with slow movements, rubbing my hands across every sensuous zone of my body. I threw in some playful taps to my cheeks and high kicks, until I reeled him over to the bed where I posed with my back arched and heels pointing to the sky.
I tossed my hair and he grabbed a patch of it, lowered his face to mine, and kissed me roughly tasting of pure vodka. “Remember what I said earlier. There will be no love making tonight,” he whispered in my ear then...
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