Leslie P.O.V.

Immediately we got inside the suite. Dropping my clutch, before I could say a word, Damien grabs my arm and yanks me into his own part of his suite as if I'm weightless. He pushes me up against the wall and buries his tongue inside my mouth with great ferocity.

The coat falls from my shoulders followed by the dinner gown and any bit of clothing. Allowing his hands to roam my body, exploring the dips and rises of my delicate curves. Reaching to my backside, he palms its roundness and slowly massages, matching the rhythm of our intertwined tongues. I feel the hardness of his middle, grinding...