Fueled (Driven, #2)(69)
“Hurry,” he demands, his voice laced with anguished need.
I laugh, hysterics tingeing the sound from my desperation. His hands still as he pulls back from our close proximity and looks into my eyes. A moment of calm amidst our storm of need. He reaches up and runs his fingers down my cheek, a smile of disbelief on his face and a look in his eyes—one that says he can’t believe I’m real. That this is real. He shakes his head and his mouth curls up to one side, his dimple winking. And with his eyes locked on mine, he runs his hand back to my hair and fists it, angling my head to the side, exposing the curve of my neck.
And then need and desire take over as he lowers his mouth to that expanse of bare skin. The feelings, the sensations, the emotions pull me under, consume me.
My eyes close. My body softens and heats up simultaneously. I feel Colton pulse against my hands and they spring to life, finally working so I can pull his pants down far enough to release his engorged length. He hisses out an incoherent litany in appreciation as my fingers encircle him and dance over his heated flesh.
“Rylee. Please. Now.” He pants between open mouth kisses. My hands continue their pleasurable torture as I feel Colton’s hand bunch the length of my dress up until his hands are beneath it, cupping my bare ass in both of his hands.
I feel the warmth of Colton’s fingertips as they part my legs, and I tense, knowing that his touch is all I’ll need to push me over the edge. His fingers smooth across my skin, and his deft fingers find their destination, making me cry out as they tease and torment.
My nails dig into his shoulders as my legs start shaking from the mounting pressure within me. “Colton.” I breathe as pleasure rakes over me, a low keening in the back of my throat the only other sound I can make as he pushes me higher and higher. His mouth catches mine again as I throw my head up, the heat from his skillful fingertips ripping through me and searing every imaginable nerve in my body. My fire ignites as he slips two fingers in to invade the depths of my sex with one hand while the other grips my hip possessively. Fervent fingers digging into willing flesh. I’m so worked up—so on the cusp—that it doesn’t take long until I crash over the edge into a rapturous free fall.
All of the anticipation, flirting, highs, and lows from the night intensify the mix of sensations that splinter through me. Colton brings a hand up to cup my neck with one hand, his thumb resting just under my chin as my eyes flutter open. The simple brush of his thumb there is like adding gasoline to a roaring fire. My body tenses again as another ripple of pleasure pulses through me, all the while his gaze on mine.
Colton’s eyes flicker and flame with lust as he watches me regain some semblance of equilibrium from the earth he just helped to move beneath my feet. Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, Colton’s control snaps, and he pushes me back on to his jacket on the cool, polished metal of his hood. He grabs my hips, pushing my dress up so I am clothed from the waist up and bare from the waist down, except for garters and stockings. He lifts my hips up to meet the height of his so that just my shoulders and neck are resting on the cool silk of his jacket.
His eyes roam over my bared flesh. “Sweet Christ, woman,” his voice husky with desire murmurs as I close my eyes to revel in the need he’s about to fill because even though I’ve come, my body is aching so desperately to have him in me, filling me, and stretching me to sublime satisfaction. “Open your eyes, Rylee,” he commands as he places his steely head at my entrance. I gasp at the feeling, needing more. Always needing more and never being able to get enough of him. “I want to watch you while I take you. I want to see those eyes of yours turn hazy with desire.”
My eyes flash open to lock on his. My mouth goes dry from the absolute lust reflected in them. In this moment, the calm before the storm, I am irrevocably his.
I cry out in unison with his guttural groan as he enters me in one slick thrust, holding himself deep as he grinds his hips against my pelvis. The heels of my shoes dig into his backside as I tense at his invasion, my slick channel clenching onto him with every swivel of his hips. “Oh, Rylee.” He grunts, his head thrown back, lips parted, and face pulled tight with pleasure.
He starts moving now. Really moving. Fitting himself to me—in me—so that each drive devastates my senses. All I can do is absorb the impossible sensations he draws out of me with each thrust, ride out the blistering onslaught with him.
The jacket beneath me serves as a slide of sorts. With each drive I glide back and up the hood, only to be pulled back onto him to start the delicious descent and thrust back up all over again. The motion causes a myriad of overwhelming sensations that only serves to coax my orgasm to come faster. Harder. Quicker.
My muscles clench around him as I lift my head to watch our union. To see my arousal coating him as he withdraws from me before plunging back in. And the sight of what I do to him, of what he does to me, is unbelievably hot. “Colton,” I moan in a stilted breath as one of his fingertips grazes over my clit. My body shudders from his touch.
“You. Are. Mine. Rylee,” he growls between thrusts. “Tell. Me. Tell me you’re mine, Rylee,” he demands.
“Colton.” I gasp as my body is pulled under the pleasure swamping me. His fingers dig into my hips as his muscles tense up and I’m able to resurface momentarily. “Yes. Yours. Colton.” I pant between thrusts. “I’m. Yours!” I shout as I drown in the liquid heat of ecstasy the same time he climaxes with a hard groan, my name spilling from his lips.