He pulls out of the kiss slowly, our lips separating with a light smack. When I open my eyes, I find him watching me, his wide, dry palm cradling the side of my face, his expression tender and a little shocked.
“All right, then,” he whispers against me before inhaling, slow and deep. “Now, love, are you going to take this cock like a good girl, or do I have to get you back inside that lift and turn the lights out?”
And, just like that, it’s on.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Colin
When she doesn’t answer, I go still.
All right. She doesn’t like it. I’d not thought that far ahead, obviously, but sadly, I’m not a prince in the sack. I’m a beast. That’s a fact that I’ve admitted to every woman I’ve ever been with. I don’t do pretty words or poetry. I don’t do affection or romance at all. I’m a little rough, a little hard, and entirely clear on what I like. My partners know this, they accept it, they like it, too, or they don’t do it at all. And that’s fine by me.
Usually.
But I’ve never laughed with a woman before. And I’ve never wanted to keep one this badly.
Our closeness should scare me, yet it doesn’t.
However, if she’s not into rough and hard, then I’m fucked. And not in a good way.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice going low and mean, showing her how I’ll be once I’m inside her. From her spot on the counter, she watches me, her eyes big, her pupils blown wide open. “Tell me you want this cock. I can give you hard and dirty. I don’t do the rest, love. Not the pretty words or the frilly bits. Will you take what I have to give you?”
A slow smile spreads over her tiny, plump mouth and relief flows through me, spiking hard when she says, “Like a good girl.”
“Oh, fuck, that’s exactly what you are. You’re a good girl.” I smile and she grins wide and now, the only thing I’ll worry about, once I’ve retrieved my brain cells from my balls, is how the hell I’ll get this magical woman to stay.
Preferably right here, seated on the kitchen counter, only with my cock deep inside her.
“Better warn you,” I say. “I’m a bossy fucker.”
She snorts again, the sound gloriously uninhibited. “Yeah. Now, there’s the real shocker.”
With a smile, I put my hand on her knee and push her legs open, all the while watching her reaction. It’s gratifying. Mouth open, eyes half closed, breathing choppy.
“I’ve got a condom.” Or twelve.
“I have some, too.”
My rush of jealous anger is absurd, though undeniable, and rather than try to repress it, I let it rev me up. “You’ve had a lot of lovers here, then?”
“Have you?” Her eyes flick up to meet mine.
“No.”
“Me neither.” Now it’s her turn to smile. “Besides, you’d have heard if I did.”
“Touché.” I push the breath up and out, and let my gaze enjoy her body while fully unzipping my jeans.
She makes an uncomfortable sound—half moan, half protest. I don’t care. I’ve finally got the chance to look her over and I’ll fucking do it in my own good time. “Stop squirming, gorgeous girl. Be good while I get ready.”
The way she moves shows just how much she enjoys the things coming from my mouth. Thank fucking God. What would I have done if she’d turned out to be prim and proper and preferred missionary in the dark?
I skate a hand down her side, taking in freckles and bumps with my fingers and eyes. After all our time spent in the dark, it’s a treat just to look at her. She’s got dimples on her arse and thighs. But I already knew that. Bless those short, flouncy skirts.
“You’re so fucking soft, Jules. All these curves, so lush, begging to be taken. And blimey, this beautiful cunt.” I shove my trousers down, push her legs wider, and soak up the view, priming my hard prick with one hand while the other spreads her lips wide open so my eyes can fully feast. “Fuck, love, I’ve got to taste you again or I’ll—”
It’s impossible to finish the sentence once my mouth lands on her hot, fragrant pussy. After a long, slow lick, I pull back and meet her eyes over the luxuriant landscape of her body. “You’re soaked again.”
