I need all of him, and I need it now.
I’m wet and trembling between my thighs, aching, throbbing.
Thank god finally we’re through the door and the latch is catching with a definitive snick and I’m caught in his arms, spun, pressed back against the door, crushed between the rough, hard wood of the door and the harder muscle of Colton.
Exactly where I want to be.
I wrap my legs around his waist, take his stubble-rough face in my hands and marry my mouth to his, delve into a feverish kiss.
I still feel Kyle’s ghost banging against my soul, the spirit of my guilt and pain. I ignore it, let it haunt me. Let it rage.
Colton’s hands smooth over my back, under my ass, threading through my hair, and the ghost is quieted. He pulls back and searches my eyes with his glittering sapphire eyes, and I see his own ghosts trying to push through.
We’re both haunted by the specters of our pasts, but we have to move on sometime and force the voice of our guilt to be silent.
Now is that time.
Chapter 11: Falling Into You
Colton sets me down slowly, and I feel his arousal as my front slides against his. We spin again, and I walk backward toward his room, my breath coming in shallow gasps. His hand curls around my waist, but I pull out of his touch. His brow wrinkles in confusion, then clears as I dance a few steps farther back, then wrap my fingers around the hem of my shirt. I peel it off quickly, drop it to the floor between us. Colton bends and scoops it up without breaking stride or eye contact, lifts the fabric to his face and sniffs.
I laugh, then reach behind me and slide down the zipper of my skirt, stopping in the doorway to his room. He halts in the hallway, just out of reach, my shirt balled in one fist, his other hand pressed flat against one wall. His broad chest and lean hips are silhouetted by the soft white fluorescent glow from the kitchen, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of him, rugged and masculine and delicious.
I shimmy my hips, biting my lip, and let the skirt fall to pool at my feet, and now I’m clad in only my bra and underwear. I watch as his jeans bulge noticeably at the zipper, strained by his arousal.
His eyes are hooded, half-lidded, primal, hungry.
I unhook my bra, one eyelet at a time, then slide one strap off, letting the bra fall to dangle from one finger in front of me. Colton rumbles deep in his chest, a sound of pure approval.
My skin tightens, my ni**les pebble hard under his sweeping gaze. I stand and let him look. He takes a step forward, and I want to back up to the bed, lay down for him, retreat from the raw intensity in his eyes, but I don’t. I stay in place and tilt my head up to meet his gaze until he’s standing over me. Our lips are centimeters apart, but we don’t kiss. I can feel his breath hot on my lips, and I want to feel them on me, but I don’t move. I wait.
And then I can’t take it anymore. I tug his shirt off, mimicking his action of smelling it, and ohmigod, it does smell incredible, like him, familiar and comforting and exotic. Then I trail my fingers down his chest, stopping on the trail of dark hair on his belly, leading under his jeans. I unsnap the button, lower the zipper, letting my knuckles brush his arousal through the cotton of his underwear. I look down, now, and my belly shivers at the sight of the gray cotton boxer-briefs stretched by his shaft, a dot of wetness spreading where his tip presses against the fabric.
He kicks off the jeans, and now we’re both in just our underwear. Almost there, almost bare to each other.
I slip my fingers under the string of my bright pink thong, lower them slightly.
“Stop. Leave them.” Colton’s voice is low and growling, halting me.
I comply immediately, letting my hands fall loose at my sides. I’m not sure why, but it’s hot when he orders me around like this. I feel a tingle in my belly, a shiver in my thighs. I press my legs together, trying to soothe the ache between them, but it’s futile. He closes the gap so my br**sts brush his chest, his arousal pressing into my belly. I reach up to touch his shoulders, slide my palms down his spine, pulling him closer. He leans down and kisses me, softly at first, tenderly. It melts me, softens me, leaves me limp and gasping from the delicacy of his kiss. I have to clutch his waist to keep from falling.
My hands are exploring the border of his waist where skin meets cotton; I lift up on my toes to deepen the kiss and push under the elastic to cup his cool hard ass, roaming the globes of muscle with both hands. He growls into the kiss, and one of his hands spanning my spine just above my hips, the other touching my waist and drifting up, up, over my ribs…onto my breast. His rough palm covers my nipple, sending thrills spasming through me. I arch into his palm, grip his ass with my fingernails, roaming his mouth with my tongue.
I’m left off-balance and dizzy and gasping when Colton abruptly pulls away. “Hold on to the doorframe,” he orders. I obey, and he smiles at me, a predatory baring of teeth. “Now, spread your feet apart…shoulder-width…yeah, just like that. Now, don’t move. And hold on.”
I think I know what he’s planning, and I suddenly can’t breathe past my heart hammering in my throat. My hands on the doorframe are all that’s holding me up, and I have to grip tight when he sinks to his knees in front of me. His huge hands curl around the backs of my thighs. I bite my lip and gaze down at him, breathless.
Oh god, oh god, ohmigod.
He presses his nose against my core, nudging the triangle of pink silk. I can’t help a moan, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. I cry out when he very suddenly reaches up and yanks my panties down. He lifts one of my feet by the ankle, a silent command to step out. I do, and now I’m completely naked, with Colton’s face between my thighs.
I’m waiting, waiting, anticipating, but he’s just looking up at me, devouring me with his eyes, his hands curled around my thighs once more, just beneath my ass.
Is he going to use his mouth on me? Go down on me? God, I want him to.
There’s no warning. He times his assault when I close my eyes in desperation, willing him to do something. Nothing, nothing…and then suddenly his hot wet tongue slides slowly up the crease of my folds. I let my head fall back and I whimper in delight, relief. I have to clutch the doorframe with all my strength to stay upright.
His fingers are on the insides of my thighs, curling around from behind to pull me apart, spread me open for his mouth. Another soft, slow lick upward, a third, and then he’s lapping, lapping, and I’m whimpering nonstop. And then he digs in with his tongue, pressing against the nub of hypersensitive nerves. I dip against his face, my legs giving out.