Chapter 201: Bad Girl (2)
Georgia’s POV
Nick’s fingers intertwined with mine as he tugged me toward the elevator. His grip was possessive, as if I was going to get lost.
"Wait—where are we going?" I asked, breathless already.
"To our suite," he said simply, pressing the button like it was just an ordinary thing to do.
"My gift for you is in the limo. I should get it first—"
Nick slipped his phone from his pocket in one fluid motion and called the driver. His gaze locked with mine, sharp and unyielding. "Which bag is yours?"
I quickly told him, and he handed me the phone so I could confirm. By the time I finished, the elevator doors slid open.
But before they could close again, several people stumbled inside—clearly drunk, some half-supported by their companions. The stench of rum and expensive cigars filled the small space.
"CEO Nicholas Knight!" a middle-aged man slurred, recognizing him instantly. "Didn’t know you were staying here too."
Nick’s polite smile appeared, smooth and disarming. "Yes. You too?"
"Nah, but these poor guys are," the man chuckled, nodding at the staggering executives. "Your father’s forty-year-old rum nearly finished them off."
Nick laughed lightly. "Hope they survive the hangover tomorrow." He gave the man a courteous nod before turning his attention back to me—completely back to me, and it was too much.
He leaned down, his lips brushing my temple in a deceptively sweet kiss. Then he moved behind me, caging me with his body. One arm wrapped firmly around my waist, pulling me against his chest, against the thick hardness straining against his trousers. My breath caught.
Before I could react, his other hand slid down, slow and deliberate. Past the hem of my skirt and slid under it. Up the curve of my thigh. My pulse thundered as his fingers pushed past the thin barrier of my panties, invading me from behind.
I jolted, instinctively trying to turn toward him, but his strong hand locked around my hip, pinning me in place. His mouth grazed my ear, hot and commanding.
"Don’t move. Stay still, or they’ll notice." His voice was a dark growl, vibrating through me. He nipped at my earlobe before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue swirling lazily as if we weren’t surrounded by people.
My whole body trembled. "What are you doing?" I whispered, desperate to keep my voice steady.
His chuckle was wicked, low, meant only for me. "Preparing you... for what’s coming later."
Then his fingers brushed my clit—slow, steady, teasing. My knees almost buckled. I clutched my bag tighter with one hand and his iron grip on my waist with the other, trying to control myself.
Each teasing stroke made me wetter, needier, the obscene thrill of being touched in public heightening everything. The executives just inches away had no idea what was happening behind them, and that secret danger made my heart pound so fast I thought it might give me away.
The elevator ride was short, and soon it dinged. Before I could even catch my breath, Nick was tugging me into our suite. My body was already soaked, primed, burning from what he’d done to me in that cramped space.
The door had barely shut before he crushed his mouth to mine, his kiss wild, demanding, like he’d been starving for years. His hands roamed me shamelessly, sliding down my spine until he found the zipper of my dress and tugged it down with one swift motion.
"Nick—wait," I gasped against his lips, clutching his wrist. "The driver might arrive any minute. I want you to see my gift first. Please, can we wait?"
The way his eyes rolled almost made me laugh, but there was nothing funny about the heat blazing in them. His frustration was raw and feral.
"You’re seriously asking me that now?" His voice was gravelly, heavy with restraint.
I bit my lower lip, tilting my head, pretending innocence, and trying to be cute. "Yes... and can I go to the bathroom while we wait? I just want to freshen up."
That’s when it happened—that wicked smirk. Dark and dripping with mischief. My heart pounded because I knew that smile meant danger.
"Fine," he said. "I was going to ask you later, but since you insist on waiting... better do it now."
A nervous laugh escaped me. "Why do I suddenly feel like that sounded more like a threat than a request?"
Nick chuckled low, releasing me only to stride toward the sofa as he removed his suit jacket. He sank down casually, legs spread, watching me like a predator letting his prey take a head start.
"You’ll see soon enough," he murmured. "Go. In the bathroom. There’s a paper bag waiting for you. It’s yours."
My brows knitted. "What am I supposed to do with a paper bag?"
His eyes gleamed, amusement and hunger mingling. "You’ll know the moment you open it. Now go ahead, Georgia. Check it out."
I inhaled deeply, my pulse racing as I turned toward the bathroom. Whatever he had planned... I already knew it wasn’t innocent.
The moment I stepped into the bathroom, I spotted it instantly—a sleek paper bag resting on the counter, positioned as if it had been waiting just for me. My pulse kicked hard against my ribs, each step toward it heavier than the last.
With shaky fingers, I tugged the handles apart and peeked inside. My breath caught.
Black lace.
The heck! I knew it!
I pulled the pieces out one by one—delicate, sinful fabric that looked too fragile for how devastating it would surely be once worn.
And then—my eyes widened, heat flooding my cheeks.
I knew Nick very well by now. He might look like a scary, stern, workaholic CEO, but behind that persona is the Nick who likes to play in the bedroom.
Well, I guess my gift perfectly matches this one then. By now, our minds are in sync. However, knowing that we both wanted the same doesn’t instantly give me the courage that I need to pull this off.
Godsss! I need a drink!
*******
Thank you for the Golden Tickets!
Chauveen_R
Sabrina_Musieva
Chauveen_R