The Slot (Rochester Riot #1)(32)
She lay there, gazing into his eyes that burned with blue fire. His hand slid under her chin and stroked the line of her jaw. “Eloise,” he whispered. “You’re very special. I hope you know that.”
“Mmm, why don’t you just keep telling me,” she said, her breath expelling on low pants, laced with yearning. Those fingers that clutched a stick for the game-winner and enchanted the crowd with his guitar traced a path from her jaw down her throat and into the hollow of her collarbone. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Dipping his tousled head toward her chest, his hand glided downward, hovering over her breast but not landing.
Touch me, Cole.
“I’m telling you now. Past. Present. Future. You could have your choice of any hot guy you wanted, Eloise. I’m glad you chose me.”
She stared at him a long moment, her expression lined with understanding, like she suddenly saw through to his soul. It was both comfortable and comforting. Eloise felt like this man belonged here in her home. In her bed.
“I could not have my pick of any hot guy,” she argued. “But even if they lined up the entire roster of the NHL naked before me, I’d pick you.”
He laughed. “That image might scar me for life, woman. I’ve seen most of the guys in the NHL naked. We won’t even mention Shredder, who likes to waltz around our place sans towel like a glove wielding puck basket. I like my odds.”
“Then take me. Now.”
***
Cole didn’t think he could want a woman as much as he wanted Eloise Robertson. The desire coursed through his blood as if it had heated the liquid past the boiling point. But something else lingered on the sigh of his breath. Something he couldn’t define and didn’t want to. Because he’d never felt it before.
His cock responded to the soft-spoken demand she’d issued, just as it had every f*cking time he’d been in her presence. With his total lack of restraint, Cole was surprised she hadn’t fled from any further interactions with him, shocked by his baser desires. Only this time, there was no shock on either side. Only need. Yearning. A want so powerful it threatened to overtake his well-established control.
“Eloise, you are going to leave this bedroom so well f*cked, you won’t even know your own name,” he promised, moving his fingers from her face to slide them into the heavy mass of her chestnut hair. Damn. He loved the silky feel and the weight of it in his palm. What would she do if he yanked it? Instead, he cupped her scalp and tipped her head back so she was forced to look directly into his eyes.
He claimed her lips again, but this time, he unleashed the full fervor of his passion. Every skill at his fingertips he brought into play, allowing his emotions to pour between them in a river of lust. Searching, his lips claimed every nuance of her mouth and then his tongue slid past the barrier to mesh with hers.
Heat.
The only word Cole could summon from the recesses of his brain was molten hot lava. An eruption of hunger. For the first few seconds, she seemed surprised by the ardor of his appetite for her, but then she surrendered and wrapped her arms around him so she could return the fevered kiss with an onslaught of her own.
He slid one hand down the curve of her spine to caress the rounded globe of her ass cheek, drawing her hard against him, letting her feel how f*cking hard she made him. So hard, steel couldn’t compare. She made a soft purr of pleasure into his mouth, their breaths mingled and he barely pulled away.
“I am?”
“I speak the truth.”
Her hand started at his shoulder and ran down the length of his torso to land on the button fly of his jeans.
“I want to feel it,” she whispered, staring.
“Oh, you will. But there’s something I’ve wanted to do since the first time I saw you lick a speck of powdered sugar from your lush lips. And I won’t wait.”
She said nothing but stared at him through hooded lids. Slowly, she nodded her ascent and didn’t argue as he gave a slight push with his palm that sent her tumbling back onto the mattress in exactly the prone position he’d hoped for. He returned to kissing her, tasting every inch of skin he exposed and claiming her mouth with his own.
And while he set to touching and licking Eloise into mad thrashing, he began to push at her leggings, sliding them down her shapely legs. Her skin felt like the finest silk, and he loved the smoothness and length of her legs. Damn it. He wanted them wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her slick heat and she writhed beneath him in a wicked dance of passion.
Cole stroked a hand up El’s thigh, and she gasped, clamping her eyes shut. Her head fell back on a strangled sigh. He examined her gorgeous face as he massaged the sensitive flesh there. Teasing. Tormenting. Using her labored breathing to know just how far to push her. Those lush lips trembled.
With one final deft movement, he swept her black lacy thong from her body until her bare * was exposed. And perfect. Parting her folds, he used his fingers to lightly graze her sex until she squirmed and moaned. She pushed up against his hand as if asking for more. And he’d give it.
“I want to touch you, Eloise. Then, I want to taste you.”
She swallowed hard, her lips opening and closing like she struggled for breath. The fisting of her hands in the cool bedsheets gave her away as well as the rosy complexion on her face. Hadn’t any of her prior lovers gotten her off like this? He let just the fingertip slide over her sensitive outer folds, and she sucked in a hard breath. This woman was going to come and come hard if it was the last thing he ever did.