“Yeah. I didn’t really want it any way.”
His hair’s dark, his cheekbones wide, the stubble on his jaw looks rougher than it feels and, like a starving person, all I want is to drink in the sight of him. Every detail. The way his jeans fit those thick thighs, the way his eyes darken as they take me in. Connecting with that stare head-on zaps me back to reality.
“What…um… What was it you wanted, then?”
His gaze on mine is as solid as the elevator’s metal wall against my back. The connection resonates in my bones. I can’t look away.
“You, Jules. I want you.”
It’s unclear who moves first. Him, I think. It’s almost frightening how fast our bodies come together. There’ll be bruises from this.
The way he watches me as our lips meet, my God, I feel that as surely as the hot press of his mouth covering mine, urging mine open, our tongues sliding and tasting and taking. Getting to use our eyes on each other has opened up a whole new world.
I stumble back, him with me, his arms supporting the dangerous moving object we’ve become. Bashing into a side table, knocking my keys to the floor. My gaze eats up every part of him. His throat, his shoulders, the tiny freckles I had no idea were there. He kicks the door closed and it takes every functioning brain cell I’ve got to make sure we don’t smash the place as we careen on, eyes much too busy taking each other in to worry about the rest of the universe.
Finally, the kitchen island stops our advance.
I’m not sure he even notices, except that it’s a surface to put his bottle on.
And then to put me on. I’m heaved up and my robe’s pulled open and everything stops.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, his face blank as his eyes rove over my body.
I know, it’s a lot to take in. I’m all breasts and belly, white flesh usually lifted, locked, and loaded in underwire bras and well-fitted skirts. He’s getting an eyeful and if he doesn’t like it, well he can leave, because I’m good with what I’ve got and—
“Glorious,” he whispers, like he’s just gotten back the ability to speak. “Fucking beautiful. Look. Look at your pretty tits, love. Look at all this…” With a kind of reverence, he drops his head and kisses the crook of my neck.
I’ve neverfeltmyself being looked at before. Not like this. His reverence is a caress. The skim of his gaze sets off a mad series of goosebumps.
Slowly, he drags the robe off my shoulder, his lips trailing behind his fingers, leaving pure fire in their wake. As his hot mouth scores a downward path over my skin, he hums a sound of pleasure and pain. He gets to my breasts and steps back, his mouth dropping open as if he can’t handle the awe running through him.Seeingso much on his face is almost frightening after all the sounds and tastes and smells we shared. It’s almost too much.
“Fucking hell, love. I need…”
“What?” I watch him closely, my vision blurring at the edges.Definitelytoo much.
“I’ll need every minute you’ve got left just to play with these gorgeous tits.” Slowly, he strokes the backs of his knuckles against my breasts—the sides, underneath—finally cupping and weighing them with a groan of hedonistic pleasure.
His knuckles catch one swollen nipple in a quick, tight pinch before moving to the other, his eyes following his handiwork with avid fascination. So much to look at. So much to see. I’m throbbing with every touch, every flicker of those eyes. It’s overwhelming how all of our senses work together at once.
“You’re my fucking fantasy come to life.” A hard pinch that makes me gasp, followed by a tender caress. “I’ll be needing so much more, though, now that I’ve tasted your sweet little pussy.”
Oh my God, the man talks dirty.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, Jules.”
At his words, I lose my ability to speak. To think.
Colin, however, does not. “You know how many times I’ve thought about this gorgeous body? This mouth?” He dips and plucks at my lips with his.
With a wicked grin, he bends lower and takes my nipple between his teeth. After lashing me with his tongue, he pulls back to look closely at how glossy he’s made me and a thread inside me snaps.
“Okay, then.” I’m an animal, moaning and wiggling to get him closer. “Do it!”
He goes back in to suck and pull, grips my other breast with rough efficiency, then switches and…oh, God. I go rigid, my face screwed up tight, my entire body tied in knots from so much sensation.
The sights and sounds and pleasure and pain all come together into a sharp point inside me, acute, almost unbearable. When I remember to open my eyes, I see my hands on his head, holding him to my chest. My mouth’s begging wordlessly for more.
Could I come from this?
