Page 133 of To Catch a Sub

Landon gripped her by the neck, pulling her in with a hard little jerk. She gasped, tipping her head back as his mouth replaced his hand on her throat. Hot, damp lips slid from the corner of her jaw down to her collarbone.

Big hands cupped her ass, guiding her to straighten until she was no longer sitting back against his thighs, but kneeling up. The blanket fell off her shoulders.

“Does it bother you,” he asked softly, “being naked while I’m dressed?”

“No. Nothing about this reminds me of what happened. This feels right.”

Landon gently cupped her breasts. Her scalp tingled and her toes curled. He hadn’t even touched her nipples, yet the pleasure was acute. The very act of being touched by him, in even a small way, was titillating.

Colette slid her hands into his hair. Not pulling or guiding him, merely forging a second connection point between them, like completing an electrical circuit.

When he leaned in and closed his lips over her right nipple, Colette knew, with a certainty rooted in her soul, that no one would ever make her feel the way Landon did. What they had was a once-in-a-lifetime chemistry and connection.

And that fact changed nothing. Because they had no future, and come tomorrow, she was going to disappear.

TWENTY-NINE

Teeth gripped her nipple, biting softly and tugging. Colette moaned, eyes closed as she concentrated on the sensation. He pulled back, stretching her nipple before the tip slipped between the narrow space made by the hard edges of his teeth. The resulting sensation was exquisite in its precision, though it flirted with the line between pleasure and pain.

“Landon,” she whimpered. “That feels so good.”

“You have sensitive nipples,” he murmured before taking the left one in his mouth.

He sucked, drawing even more blood into the tip before gripping it with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. Colette gripped fistfuls of his hair, her hips rocking.

“Too sensitive for clamps,” he said when he finally released that breast from his mouth.

“No, I’m not,” she protested, desperate for more.

He swatted her ass. “Are you telling me I’m wrong?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

He snorted. “A sub who needs to come will agree to anything.”

“Yes,” she said again. “That’s why we have Doms.”

He cupped her breasts, pressing them together and burying his face in her cleavage. She stroked his hair, then slid her fingers under his collar to stroke the bare skin along his upper spine.

Landon turned his head—good, she was slightly worried he’d suffocate—laying his cheek on her chest. He molded her body to his with arms wrapped tight around her waist and thighs. The tight hug had a sweet, warm emotion rising up through her core.

Maybe he wasn’t ready for sex. He might still need time to process what she’d told him.

“It’s okay.” She stroked his hair, laying her cheek on the crown of his head “Nous n'avons pas à faire ça.”

He lifted his head, and the look in his eyes told her that she was wrong. The embrace wasn’t a signal that he needed a different kind of connection. Landon’s gaze was hot with desire, and he looked her over with a possessiveness that made every submissive cell in her body sing.

“Are you angling for another spanking?” He squeezed one butt cheek.

“No, though I wouldn’t object.” Her butt would, when she literally couldn’t sit down tomorrow thanks to two spankings in a row, but right now she craved being turned over his knee.

“Then what did you say?”

“I said we don’t have to do this. I thought you needed time.”

“I did. Time to plan exactly what I was going to do to you.” He gently gripped one nipple.

Landon held her gaze as he twisted the peak of her breast first one way, then the other. It was a small, delicate movement she felt down to her toes.