Falling into You (Falling #1)(64)
He doesn’t though. “Tell me what you want me to do. I won’t do it unless you tell me to.”
I groan, then tip my head down to look at him. His mouth and lips glisten with my juices, his blue, blue eyes shining with desire.
“Touch me. Put your fingers inside me. Keep going down on me.” I don’t stifle my moan when he slides two fingers inside my hot, throbbing, drenched channel. “Make me come.”
“Say my name.”
I bite my lip, because I can’t help it and because it drives him crazy. “Make me come, Colton.”
He grumbles in his chest. It’s a good sound. “You know,” he says, pause to swipe my folds with his tongue, and then continues, “you’re the only person in my life who calls me that. Everyone else calls me Colt.”
“Want me to call you Colt instead?” I ask.
“Hell no. I love the way you say my name.”
There aren’t any more words, then, because his fingers are moving in a way that has me wanting to scream, and his tongue has zeroed in on my clit again, and his hand is caressing my ass. He’s all over me, in me, on me, all around me. My world has shrunk down to him, to Colton and the insanely incredible thing he’s doing to me.
So close, so close. But then every time I reach the cusp, he seems to know and slows, switches his rhythm and pulls me back from the edge. He’s drawing his cues from my voice, I think. He hears the tempo of my moans increase as I reach the edge, and then when I’m gasping and whimpering with need, he stops, and I throw my head back in frustration, but then I tip it forward again to watch him lap at me. Oh god, he’s so sexy doing that. His dark hair glints in the light, his skin dark and dusky in the low light, his bare muscles gleaming and shifting as he moves. His hand is on my ass, holding me against him, and now I’ve lost all control over myself. I’m dipping on weak knees against his mouth and fingers, and my hands are tangled in his hair, crushing him against me with wanton need, complete abandonment.
“I need to come, Colton,” I breathe. “Please, let me come.”
He caresses my ass in circles, smoothing the skin over my left cheek, his right hand inside me, rubbing against a spot high on my walls, rubbing in a way that has me panting and whimpering, then pulls his two fingers in and out, in and out, then rubs the spot again. His tongue is relentless, untiring, flicking and circling my clit, brushing it, licking it, sucking it into his mouth and pulling on it with gentle teeth.
Closer, now. So close.
“I’m right there,” I hear myself say, panting. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t answer, just renews his assault, and now I’m on the edge, hovering, wavering, about to tip forward. My head is thrown back and I’m moaning out loud, pulling his face against my core in the rhythm of my knees’ buckling and his tongue’s sweeping.
He pulls my clit between his teeth and suckles it hard, rubbing me furiously with his fingers, and then I come. As I gasp a shriek, announcing my orgasm, he slaps my ass, and I come so hard my breath leaves me and my scream is cut off. He slaps my ass again, on the other cheek, withdrawing his fingers and sliding them back in as he smacks me a third time. With each slap of his hand on my ass, he flicks my clit with his tongue, and I come, come, come, bent forward at the waist and mouth wide but silent.
“Scream for me, Nelly.” He accompanies the order with one last smack, the hardest, and nips my clit with his teeth, almost too hard, but not quite.
I can’t help but obey, screaming loud and collapsing forward. Colton catches me in his arms as he stands up. I’m twitching with wave after wave of aftershock, but I force my eyes open, watch as Colton moves across the hall into the bathroom, digs around in the cabinet under the sink, pulls out an unopened box of condoms. He opens the flap and withdraws a string of packets, rips one free, and tosses the rest on the floor next to the bed.
Watching him do this drives home what’s about to happen. Letting him go down on me, touching him, kissing him, making him come with my hand, all that is one thing. But actual sex, him above me, sliding into me…that’s different.
He strips off his boxers and settles onto the bed next to me, leaning over me on one elbow. “Second thoughts?” He asks, having seen the look on my face, probably. “There’s no pressure. You don’t want to do this, we don’t—”
“I do.” I lift my hand to caress the knobs of his spine down to his ass. “I really do. It’s been so long I’m nervous. But I want it.”
“And the ghosts?”
“There, but I’m working past them.” I follow the line of his side, trace his ribs, then back down to his hip. “You?”
“Same.” His eyes rake down my body, then flick up to meet my eyes. “You’re so sexy, Nell. So beautiful. I can’t take it, you’re so fucking gorgeous. I don’t deserve a delicious little angel like you.”
And just like that, the nerves are subsumed beneath a tidal wave of tenderness and desire. “I’m no angel,” I say, lifting up on one elbow and pushing him onto his back. “And you do deserve me. You deserve someone better than—”
“I deserve exactly you,” he cuts in, settling his hands on my hips as I kneel astride his thighs. “Only you. The good and the bad. All you, all beautiful.”
I can only stare at him in response, blinking back emotion. Not tears, not really. Just…emotion. I shift my gaze to his torso, the dragon spewing fire, the lettering, the images, all painted across his gloriously muscled physique. I smooth my hands over his chest, down his stomach, trace the V-cut with trembling fingertips. I follow the lines of the V downward to the close-trimmed pubic hair, and—god, he’s huge—his shaft. I lick my lips, and then bite down, hesitating. He doesn’t move, just holds my hips loosely.