The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Thirty-One

The trip to his bedroom suite is silent.

Restlessly, I trace the contours of his shoulders and press soft kisses to his neck. His pulse threads quickly, hammering under the skin, and I trace the vein with my tongue. When his arms tighten, I clutch harder, sucking until a moan spills between his lips.

"Unless you want me to take you in this hall, where everyone can see you—stop."

"Warning me, again, Gatlin?" I tease, sliding my fingers along his collar. Gently, I dip them beneath it to stroke his skin. A hiss slides through his teeth.

He drops me to my feet, and I yelp, scrambling to get out of the path of his hands, but he's too quick. Latching his right hand to my left, he spins me around and cages me against the wall. Tension bends between us.

Like a moth to a flame, I sway toward him. Eagerly, his arms land on either side of my head, keeping me where he wants me. I don't fight him.

Instead, I lean my head onto the wall behind me and meet his gaze steadily. Twinkling sapphire orbs meet my gaze. In the recesses, his systems assess me.

They're alive and well, twitching and turning. The amplifiers in his pupils zoom in. Subtly, the slight noise piques my interest. Is this what people see when I stare at them?

He's nearly staring through my soul. As if they are real, his emotions are tangible now. Tentatively, my systems reach to meet his in mournful caress.

Having him so close, but unable to touch, is torture.

Trembling, I breathe in his scent. It's sharper now, twisting the spray of his cologne with sweat and the enrapturing scent of his arousal. Seconds later, I feel it more than I smell it as his pelvis pushes to mine.

His cock is hard, long, and hot. I want it inside me—in more than my pussy. Would he let me touch it this time?

With Catrina out of the way, I'm his for the taking—freely. I won't fight his gaze, his hands, his tongue or his cock. Greedily, I'll want, beg and plead for it.

Just as long as I can touch him like he touches me.

Hard muscle strains under his clothes, bunching and uncoiling. His hands, like mine were, are restless. They trail along my hips, waist and up my arms to cup my face. They harden there, keeping my head angled.

"What did I say about teasing me, Blue?"

I smile at him, intentionally widening it and my eyes to appear innocent. "I don't know what you mean, Gatlin. I was being good."

"Good?" His head tilts, and he forces his hips closer, rubbing his cock against my stomach. "If you were being good, you'd be on your knees with my cock in your mouth."

"You know how to say please, don't you?" I ask, smile still firmly in place. "Perhaps, if you asked nicely, I'd grant your wish."

A chuckle vibrates his chest, and he shakes his head. "You're insatiable, but you don't know what you're asking for."

"I think I do. I think you're afraid you'll like it."

Releasing my face, his hands retrace their path down my neck, across my collarbone to my breasts. His fingers prod, quickly finding my nipples and tweaking them until my hips bump forward. Eyes locked, our bodies buck against each other, finding a rhythm I hope will extend beyond this hall.

Groaning, I grasp onto his shoulders and center my efforts. There's no shyness in my actions. I don't possess extensive knowledge about sex, but I have enough experience to know what I'm doing now. Gatlin kicks apart my legs, coming as close as physically possible.