PENTHOUSE 521

sixteen | rapture

It proved to be a difficult task for Niccolò and me to keep our hands off each other. Both in the lobby and elevator up to his penthouse. Well, more than a difficult task. And it's something we may have succeeded in or failed, depending on your sort of view.

I tugged at his hair as he pressed me against the wall of the elevator in need. His teeth pulled at my bottom lip while his hands smoothed along my back and rear. His tongue prodded at the seam of my lips while I huffed out a breath right before opening my mouth the let him explore more.

Everything that had been taken place the last few hours had culminated to form this moment. The air was ripe with sexual tension, and well, it was inevitable once Niccolò eyed me with a dark look in his eyes.

Anyway, we both knew that sex would be unavoidable. It was just a matter of when and where it would happen next. And I was pretty sure Niccolò was about to take me right then in the elevator's space when—

Ping!

The elevator doors opened to the entryway of his lobby.

I laughed against his lips, squeezing his shoulder. "We can wait for a few minutes."

He nodded, cheekily brushing his bottom lip before a sly grin crept onto his face. He took my hand as we stepped off the elevator into his penthouse.

A few minutes later, he scooped me in his arms, carrying me bridal-style.

I laughed. Niccolò was a man on a mission, and he would waste no more time.

His feet quickly carried him up the platform stairs to his bedroom on the second level. With a nudge of his foot, he pushed open his bedroom door, stepping inside with me in his arms.

Slowly, when we were inside, he sat me down on my feet. He went over to the light switch, the lights thrumming on.

Like most of the other rooms in the penthouse, it had large windows, allowing him to peer over the rest over the island. To look over the city, he had already claimed in a few weeks time. Another territorial addition to his collection.

The room was also decorated with creme and dark-colored furnishings. The room also had a 60' flatscreen posted on the wall to one side, a gray rug, dark gray curtains. Everything looked like something from an interior design catalog. Modern, sleek, and stylish.

The only thing that could be debated that didn't fit his room's other decor was the four-poster bed. It had a contemporary design, offering a rectangular frame around his bed; it just wasn't something you typically saw in a catalog.

Didn't Dorian mention once that men with four-poster-beds were freaky as hell?

"I like your room," I said, eyes looking over before I made my way over to sit on the foot of his bed.

"Glad it satisfies your luxurious taste." He began undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, walking over to his walk-in closet.

My eyes narrowed, looking over his back. His deltoids contracted to cause ripples to form in the fabric of his shirt. "I'm on the pill." I brought out a few seconds of consideration. I bent down, my fingers began to unlatch the buckles on my sandals.

At this statement, he turned around. Glancing back at me. "Why didn't you tell me this in the club suite? I wouldn't have worn the glove if I didn't have to." He chuckled amusedly.