Tempting Him by Isabel Lucero

3

“You don’t feelbad for leaving your friends?” he asks.

“Not my friends,” I say with a shrug. “Well, one of them is. I don’t know the others.”

“So, you don’t know the people who are getting married?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are you here?”

I laugh. “My friend invited me, and I’m not really one to turn down a night out.”

He takes a sip of his bourbon, his eyes trained on me. “And yet you’ve resigned yourself to this table with me. As far away from the fun as possible.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think we could have some fun if we wanted.”

“What makes you think I’m into men?”

“If you weren’t you’d have sent me on my way by now.”

“Hmm.”

“So, why are you here all alone?” I ask, leaning forward.

“Just trying to relax after a long day at work.”

“You came straight here after you got off?” I ask, eyeing the tie around his neck. I could use that later.

“Yeah.”

I finish my second drink and get right to it. “You got a place we can go back to?”

He rotates his wrist, the remaining liquid in his glass swirling around as he pins me in place with an intense gaze. “You seem like you’re used to getting your way.”

I give him a smirk. “I guess I am.”

“Well, I’m used to getting my way, too. And I have a feeling I’ve been on this earth a lot longer than you, so we’re going to need to get something straight.” I stare back at him, anxious and somewhat eager to hear what he has to say. “What happens tonight will only be what I allow. You’ll get what you want, with my permission. You’ll do what I say. And when the sun comes up, you’ll never see me again.”

A thrill of excitement runs through me. I’ve never been with someone so authoritative, and though I never gave it much thought, I think I might like it. He’s right, I’m used to getting my way. I typically control everything that happens in the bedroom. I’m the alpha in the situation, always. In this case, we may have a war of wills between us, but if it’s just one night, I guess I can relent.

“Got it.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

He stands up and snatches his suit jacket off the chair, then reaches for his wallet and drops a hundred dollar bill on the table before marching to the door.

With a glance back at the bar, I spot Dom and give him a wink. He shakes his head, a grin on his lips.

* * *

I don’t payattention to where we’re going until we’re standing in front of a sky high hotel building.

“You live in a hotel?” I question as we walk through the glass doors. “Or is this what you do for your one-night stands, because you actually have a wife and kid back home?”

He makes a noise I can’t quite decipher—something between a huff and snort. It’s probably as close as he gets to a laugh. “I definitely don’t have a family. I don’t have time for it.”

“So, you live here?”

“For the time being,” he states as we enter the elevator.

“When I was a kid, I always wanted to live in a hotel. It was so much fun to wander the halls late at night, and I would always offer to go to the vending and ice machines.” I laugh. “I don’t know why I thought it was so much fun.”

He stares straight ahead. “It’s just a place to sleep at night.”

This guy has a hard shell, and he’s difficult to crack, but I keep talking, hoping to get him to open up a little bit.

When we enter his hotel room, I let out a low whistle. “A little more than a place to sleep at night. This is like a penthouse. You’re living my fucking dream.”

As he drapes his jacket over the back of a chair, I run straight for the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city.

“It’s probably more than I need, but—”

“But you want the best,” I say, angling my head over my shoulder and winking at him.

The hotel room, if you can even call it that, is massive. The living room consists of a giant, creamy white sectional with a glass top coffee table in the center, all of it resting on an oversized white and blue rug that covers the glossy tile floor.

There’s a small bar, a dining room table, and a kitchen made for a chef. The decorations are modern and sleek, making it look both simple and elegant.

“Drink?” he offers, pouring a small amount of dark liquid into a crystal glass.

“I don’t really sip on straight alcohol, but I’ll take a shot.”

He doesn’t say anything, but pours more of the same liquor in another glass and extends his arm in my direction. “They don’t supply shot glasses, but here you go.”

I make a point to let my fingers touch his when I take the glass. “Thank you.” I drink it all down in one gulp and place it back on the bar before spinning back around to the windows. “Please tell me you have a balcony.”

“Bedroom.”

I point in one direction, and he points in the opposite, letting me know where to go. I peek inside and then snap my head back toward him. “My guy,” I say with a laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’d never leave. You sure you don’t want me for more than one night?”

For only the second time tonight, his lips twitch like he wants to smile. “Don’t make it sound like you’re a prostitute.”

He follows me through his room and onto the balcony. I let my hands run along the metal railing as I gaze down at the view below. “The things I’d do on this balcony.”

I sense him at my back before he even touches me. His presence is immense, and the power he radiates permeates my skin, spreading through every vein in an attempt to bring me to my knees. When his breath dances across the back of my neck, goosebumps break out across my arms.

“The things I’m going to do to you on this balcony,” he says in a husky whisper.

He barricades me between his arms, pressing himself into my back. My eyes close on their own accord, a soft moan rumbling in the back of my throat.

“I can’t wait.”

“Do you switch?” he asks, his hands resting on my hips.

“Mm. Yeah.”

“How long has it been?”

“A few months,” I reply, my breath quivering slightly as his hand travels across my abdomen before sliding over the front of my jeans.

With dexterous fingers, he easily unsnaps my button and drags the zipper down. “Clean?”

“Of course.” I moan when he squeezes my growing erection. “You?”

“Yep.”

He pushes my jeans down my thighs, and I quickly step out of my shoes so I can remove the pants completely.

Aleksander spins me around to face him before lifting my shirt from the hem and pulling it over my head. His eyes skate over every muscle in my chest, arms, and stomach before traveling up to my face.

“Can anyone see us?” I ask. “Like other guests from rooms nearby?”

“Would that bother you?”

“Not really.”

“Good.” He undoes his belt and pants, the material opening up and showing me a glimpse of dark fabric underneath.

I reach out to touch him, but he steps back, his eyes on me. “Did you get my permission?”

My teeth sink into my lip briefly. “Ah, right. Only what you allow,” I say, remembering his words from the bar. “But that doesn’t seem fair.”

He isn’t fast enough to keep me from touching him when I reach out again. My fingers graze the hard shaft hiding behind a pair of boxer briefs, before I gently cup his balls in my hand. The flutter of his eyelashes lets me know he enjoyed the contact regardless of whether he told me I could do it or not.

When he removes his tie, he says, “Don’t make me restrain you.”

“I might like it.”

Aleksander puts space between us while he finishes removing his clothes—everything but his underwear.

I don’t know how old he is, but I’d guess early forties at most, late thirties at least, but regardless of his age, his body is fucking perfect. Sculpted like the most beautiful piece of artwork you could find. There are a few thick scars on his torso that don’t look like they came from the hands of a skilled surgeon. A smattering of hair covers his chest and creates a small trail down his stomach, leading to the thing I’m dying to lay my eyes on. Hell, my hands and mouth, too.

My cock twitches and I run my palm across it, squeezing at the tip while I study him.

“Do I have your permission to suck your cock?” I ask in a teasing tone. “Or do I need to continue to wait?”

His eyes narrow on me before he shoves his boxer-briefs down, leaving him completely naked on the balcony, his large, beautiful dick pointing right at me. He sits on the couch, one arm outstretched along the back while his right hand grips the base of his shaft.

“You can wait.”

Fuck. I wasn’t expecting that.

With torturously slow strokes, his fist moves up and down his erection as his eyes peruse my nearly naked body. He’s using me as his own personal porn, and I can’t say I hate it.

“Take off your underwear,” he states, eyes focused on my crotch already.

“What do you say?” I goad, wondering if I can get him to say please.

“Now,” he says instead.

I push them down and start walking toward him. His gaze is frozen on my cock until my foot nearly touches his, then those hypnotizing eyes find mine.

“What do I have to do to get your dick in my mouth?” I ask, my tongue wetting my bottom lip.

He gives me a mocking smirk. “Say please.”

I drop to my knees between his parted thighs, my hands on his legs. “If you think me saying please is a hard task, you’re wrong. It’s only polite to respect your elders.” His nostrils flare slightly and I grin. “Can I suck your cock?” I whisper, hands traveling up his legs while the tip of my nose drags up his shaft. “Please.”

Aleksander growls, his hand flying to the back of my head. “Do it.”

I don’t bother wasting time teasing him with gentle licks and kisses, it doesn’t seem his style. Instead, I lower my mouth all the way down his shaft, not stopping until I feel his crown kissing the back of my throat.

I suck and slurp, gag and nearly choke, but I put a crack in that hard shell of his, because I have him cursing and gasping, giving me praise and begging for more. It’s the most he’s talked at one time since I met him.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling me off of him. “Get up. Come over here.”

He takes me back to the railing, and with his hands on top of mine, he places them where he wants, his cock poking me in the ass.

His lips touch the shell of my ear before he speaks. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Right back? You’re not gonna have me waiting out here for hours with my dick hanging over the balcony, right?”

A sharp smack against my ass cheek has me shutting up. “Stay here.”

I watch cars driving in front of the building, people walking around the block, and I wonder if anybody focused their attention up here if they’d know what was going on. We’re ten stories high, but it’s pretty dark. If it was the middle of the afternoon, it might be more obvious. My head swivels, checking out the nearby windows. When I spot Aleksander’s naked body moving in front of one of them, I know all the closest windows belong to his suite, so we shouldn’t have to worry about any neighbors spying on us.

The sound of footsteps approaching has my pulse spiking.

“Look at that. You can follow directions.”

“Sometimes.”

He makes a tsk noise before warm slick fingers slide between my cheeks, ripping a gasp from my throat.

“Relax,” he says in a soft tone, his fingers gently pressing against my hole.

“Nnuaahh,” is the noise I make as he pushes a digit inside.

“That’s it,” he croons, one hand on my neck as he rotates his finger.

I squeeze the metal in my fists, my head dropping down, chin touching my chest. “Oh God.”

“Not here there’s not,” he retorts. “There’s no higher being that’ll save you from the devastating pleasure I’m about to fill you with.”

“Ahh.”

He takes his time stretching me, adding an additional finger after another squirt of lube until he’s three fingers in and I’m fucking myself on his hand, begging for more.

“Fuck me,” I groan.

Without uttering a word, he removes his fingers, rips open a condom wrapper, and seconds later a hand lands on my back, forcing me to bend at the waist. All I see are cars and twinkling lights as I stare at the view ten stories down, and then his cock slides inside me in a single forceful thrust.

“Ah shit!” I yell as he releases a throaty roar.

Aleksander fucks me like it’s the first time he’s had sex in years, or like it might be the last time he ever will. His fingers dig into me as he holds me tight, fucking me with such force that he very well could fuck me over the balcony. The fear of that happening never hits me, because all I can think about is wanting more.

“Yes,” I cry. “God, yes.”

He buries himself to the hilt and stops, his hand coming up around my throat and forcing me into a standing position.

“If you’re gonna call out someone’s name, make sure it's mine.”

I angle my head to try to get a better look at him. “If you’re gonna boss me around, don’t stop fucking me,” I say, moving my hips in an attempt to continue what he put a pause to.

He squeezes my throat and I moan, biting down on my lip.

“You’re not in charge here,” he says. “If I wanted to stop right now, we’d stop.”

“But you know you don’t want that,” I breathe, pushing my ass against him again. “You want to fuck me until I come over this fucking balcony. You want to shoot your load while you’re what...six inches deep?” I tease with a grin.

His eyes narrow again as his jaw clenches. “Try adding a few more to that number and you might be close.”

“Prove it. Make me feel every fucking inch.”

Aleksander releases my throat and shoves me back down, his fingertips once again imbedding themselves in my skin as he uses my body like a fucking sex doll.

When I drop an arm and slide my hand through the bars, I grab a hold of my cock, grateful for the wide spaces so I’m not being hurt by the metal.

He slows down just as I start stroking myself.

“Don’t stop,” I demand.

Of course he doesn’t listen. Ever so slowly he eases out of me until I can only feel his crown, and then leisurely moves back in. It’s fucking torture.

“Fuck me!”

He doesn’t say anything, he just continues these languid movements, pulling almost all the way out just to bury himself again.

“Do you feel them?” he asks.

“What?” I reply, still stroking myself, ready to explode.

“Every inch. Do you feel them?”

“Oh shit.” I moan as he gives me a little more force with his next thrust. “Yes. I fucking feel them.”

“Good.”

He doesn’t speed up though. The teasing strokes are driving me insane, filling me up, but not giving me the full effect.

“Come on,” I all but whimper. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Mm,” he moans. “I like that.”

“I’d like it more if you’d fuck me harder.”

The asshole pulls out completely, running a hand over the curve of my ass. “I told you you’d get what you wanted. Don’t worry.”

“I want your dick in my ass so I can come. My balls are gonna fucking explode.”

I think he chuckles. Mr. Serious actually laughed, but the fact that he’s finding humor in denying me an orgasm is a little frustrating.

Standing up, I turn around and take a step toward the couch.

“What’re you doing?” he questions.

“I’m gonna sit on this couch and get myself off.”

“You’re trying to provoke me.”

I smirk and move past him. “I’m just trying to get off. Isn’t that the whole point of this?” I say, gesturing between us.

“No,” he says simply, shaking his head.

“No?” I question, arching a brow as I sit down.

“I mean, no. Get up.”

I stroke my cock and watch him. “I’m up,” I say with a glance at my erection.

He gives me a look that a parent gives their stubborn child. “Get. Up.”

“What’re you gonna give me?”

His patience snaps and he rushes over. I allow him to manhandle me into a position on my knees as I grin.

“Don’t get cocky,” he says. “We’re still doing this my way.”

“Okay,” I say with amusement.

He shuts me up when he spreads my thighs and fucks me with furious passion. I grip the arm of the couch as he pummels me with thrusts meant to rip me apart. My cock is shoved up against a pillow, getting friction with each movement.

“Fuck,” I gasp, shifting enough to be able to stroke my dick. “I’m so close.”

Aleksander grunts. “You know what to say when you come.”

I release a loud moan followed by a guttural roar as an overwhelming amount of pleasure travels throughout my body, hitting every nerve ending and igniting an intense euphoria that swallows me whole.

“Aleksander.”

His name leaves my lips with a whimpering moan I might be ashamed of later, but right now, with my muscles weak and skin sweat-slicked, and as my body shakes with my release, he definitely earned the right to hear me completely wrecked.

A gratified groan leaves his throat before the slam of his hips into my ass has me gasping. A minute later, his breath stutters and the moans and gasps coming from him let me know he’s nearly as wrecked as me.

His forehead falls to my back as he sucks in deep breaths, his hands moving softly over my hips and down my thighs.

When he pulls away, I carefully turn over and watch him as he spins around and removes the condom before walking inside to dispose of it. I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to compose myself before getting up. They snap open when something soft and heavy falls on me.

Aleksander returned wearing a robe and tossed me a spare.

“Sleepover?” I question with a grin and hopeful gleam in my eyes.

“I have until sunrise.”

“Then what? You turn into a pumpkin or something?”

He’s not amused by my jokes. “Until you leave and I never see you again.”

“I see.” I stand up, grimacing as I do. It’s his turn to smirk at me. “Let’s shower, eat, then I get to fuck you.”

Aleksander turns around, shaking his head as he walks back inside. “Funny that you still think you can call the shots.”

“Fine. You say it now and we’ll do it and pretend it was your idea.”

“Maybe I need to shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”

I rush up and push him against the wall before we get to the bathroom. “Maybe I’ll let you, but not until you taste mine.”

His surprise fades into something else as we stare each other down. I can’t fully decipher the expression, but I’d like to think it’s interest.