Just as I knew he would, Colter caught me and held onto me as my lips claimed his.
It started out hard and desperate, full of the antsy feelings I’d been experiencing for almost two hours while he had his meeting in Saint’s room.
But as Colter straightened, turned, and pressed me back against the door, the kiss shifted.
His mouth angled, turning desperate into soft, sweet. I melted into it, into him, my hands framing the sides of his face, holding him to me.
His teeth nipped my lower lip, a teasing bite, and my mouth parted on a needy little whimper.
His tongue swept inside, teasing over mine, slow and gentle, but getting hungrier by the moment.
His hand curled around my jaw, the touch gentle even as his lips started to sear into mine as the need intensified.
Still, he seemed in no rush to move things along.
It was my hands that grew greedy, sliding from his neck down his arms, over his shoulders, down his back.
Colter’s mouth broke from mine, his lips trailing up my jaw, over my ear, then down my neck.
A delicious little shiver moved down my spine at the brush of his beard and the warmth of his lips.
He moved across my neck, intensifying the sensation.
But then his hands were sliding to my ass again, holding on as he pulled me away from the door, turned, and walked back toward his bed.
He sat down on the edge, taking me with him to straddle his waist.
Only then did his hungry gaze meet mine.
His fingers drifted up, snagging the hem of my tee, then slowly pulling it up.
My hands went over my head, and he pulled the material free.
I watched his face as he took me in, his eyes going half-closed, his chest rising and falling faster.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands grazing down my arms as my heart swooped at the compliment.
I’d been complimented before. Men would say just about anything to get you in the sack. But I’d always been ‘hot’ or ‘sexy.’ No one had ever called me beautiful before. It felt different. Because it was a compliment fully about me, not about how I made him feel.
“Colter?” I murmured, making his gaze flick back up to me.
“Yeah?”
“If you don’t touch me, I’m going to take over.”
That got a low, sexy chuckle out of him.
“I only get to do this for the first time once,” he said, his fingers drifting over my hips. “I’m not gonna be rushed.”
That had no right to be as hot as it was.
Even if my desire felt like a coil twisted way too tightly.
I took a slow, deep breath, trying to remind myself to sink in, to enjoy, to commit every touch, every look, every sound, and sensation to memory.
Even if it felt unbearably torturous to not push him backward, reach into his pants to free him, then feel him finally slide deep inside me.
It felt like an eternity before his hands closed over my breasts. His wide palms covered me completely, his skin rougher on my softer chest.
