Have fallen for.
“We should get some rest,” he rasps.
“We will.” I arch into him, dragging my leg over the hard jut of his erection.
He hisses out a breath, palm clamping down onto my thigh, staying my movements, his skin scorching my flesh through the fabric of my pajamas. “Kylie. Baby. You’ve had a long weekend, a long day.”
“So have you.”
“Exactly,” he rasps. “So we should go to bed.”
“Mmm.” I slip my fingertips just under the waistband of his sweats and he jerks. “Maybe we should.”
“Right. Good that you agree.”
He shifts restlessly. “Baby, you need to move your hand.”
“Okay.”
I shove it fully into his sweats, wrapping my fingers around him. “So hard,” I murmur, shifting my leg so I have room. And maybe it’s been a long time since I’ve touched a man like this, maybe even before I was raped, it was only a handful of times I did it, and maybe even then it was fumbling and teenage hormones and feeling strange and awkward and unwieldy.
There’s nothing awkward about this.
Nothing strange and fumbling.
Like everything with Colt from that night in my kitchen a couple of weeks ago, it feels natural.
Normal.
Easy.
And sexy as hell.
“Kylie.” My name is barely discernible, his voice like so much sandpaper. “Baby?—”
I stroke my hand up.
“Fuck!”
His hips hitch, pushing the hard length of him into my hand.
So I go down and back up, only this time I feel a bead of moisture hit the tops of my fingers, and it’s so intriguing, so tempting, I can’t stop myself from sliding my thumb over it.
He groans as I smooth it into his skin.
I want to taste it, want it on my tongue and down my throat, but even as that erotic image flashes through my mind I know I’m not ready for that.
Not quite yet.
So, I keep my hand moving, stroking up and down, up and down, struck by the beauty of his face as I touch him. His neck is arched, the cords on his throat standing out in sharp relief, and the sheen of sweat on his skin makes my mouth water.
I want to taste him there too, savor the tang of the salt on my tongue.
And I can.
So…I do.
Continuing to stroke him as I bend and drag the tip of my tongue over his neck, the salty burst of flavor exploding through my taste buds.
