Driven(book one)(52)

I suck in my breath, insecurities rearing their ugly head as I stand before him in a bra, a scrap of lace as an excuse for panties, and my stilettos. “I think—”

“Sh-sh-sh,” he whispers against my lips. “Don’t think, Rylee. The time for thinking is over.” He steps us backwards, the back of my knees hitting the bed, and he slowly lays me down, his mouth still lacing me with kisses. “Just feel,” his husky voice demands of me. One of his hands cups the back of my neck while the other roams slowly down to the black lace of my bra and over my rib cage before starting the path back up again. A moan escapes my lips. I need his touch like I need my next breath right now.

“Let me look at you,” he whispers, leaning back on his elbow. “God, you are beautiful.”

I freeze at the words, wanting to hide the scars that mar my abdomen, wanting to twist away so that I’m not asked, not reminded right now in this moment. I do none of that though. Instead, I remind myself to breathe as his eyes wander down my body. I know the moment he sees them for shock flickers across his face before his eyes flash back to mine, concern etched in his brow.

“Rylee? What—”

“Ssshhhh,” I tell him before I reach out and grab his neck, yanking him to me in a demanding kiss that obliterates all sense of control. All questions before they can be asked. A carnal passion ignites within me as I take hold of him—kissing, caressing, digging fingernails into steeled skin. A feral growl comes from deep within him as his tongue skims a trail down my neck. He cups my breast, slipping the finger beneath the lace and pushing the cup below it. His mouth teases on its descent down before closing over the tight bud of my nipple.

I cry out in ecstasy as he lathes my breast, sucking it into his hot, greedy mouth. His hand assaults my other breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger—blurring the fine line between pleasure and pain. His acute attention to my sensitive buds mainlines a fire to my sex. It clenches, throbs, and moistens, silently begging him for more to push me over the edge. I shift beneath him to try and ease the intense ache that is building, but the coils of craving are so strong my breath pants out erratically.

I tangle my fingers in his hair as he moves from my chest, sucking, kissing, and nipping his way down my abdomen. I fist my hands in it and grate in a sharp breath of air as he deliberately lays a row of kisses along my worst scar. “So beautiful,” he repeats to me again as he continues his tormenting descent. He stills at the top of my panties and I can feel the smile form on his lips from his mouth pressed against my skin.

He looks up at me, a mischievous grin lighting his face. “I hope you’re not overly fond of these.” I don’t even have a chance to respond before he rips the panties off of me. A low satisfied purr comes from the back of his throat as he trails a finger down the small strip of curls beneath the material. “I like this,” he growls at me, his finger tracing below the strip where I’m void of hair, “and I like this even more.”

My breath catches as he slips a finger between my folds, sliding it slowly back and forth. “Oh God,” I groan as I grip my hands into the sheets of the bed, ecstasy detonating in sparks of white hot flashes behind my closed eyelids.

Colton sucks in an audible breath as he slips a finger tantalizingly slowly into my passage. “Rylee,” he groans, the break in his voice as he says my name betraying his appearance of control. “Look how wet you are for me, baby. Feel how tight you grip me.” I arch my back, shoulders pressing into the mattress as his finger leisurely circles inside of me, grazing over that sweet spot deep along my front wall before deliberately withdrawing, only to start the whole exquisite process again.

“The things I want to do to this tight little * of yours,” he murmurs as I feel his other hand part me again. His blunt words turn me on. Incite feelings I didn’t expect. I writhe beneath him as the cool air of the room hits my swollen folds. “Look at me, Rylee. Open your eyes so I can see you when my mouth takes you.”

It’s takes everything I can to snap out of my pleasure induced coma and open my eyes. He looks up at me through hooded lids from between my thighs. “That’s it, baby,” he croons as his head drifts down until I feel the warm heat of his mouth as it captures my nerve laden nub at the same time he slips two fingers in me.

I cry out, throwing my head back as a raging inferno blasts through my center—taking, possessing, building. “Look at me!” he growls again. I open my eyes, the eroticism of watching him watch me, as he pleasures me, is more than I’ve ever known.

His tongue lathes lazily back and forth, over and around as his fingers continue their delicious internal massage. He withdraws and then pushes back in, his fingers leisurely rubbing my walls within. I buck my hips up against him, begging for more pressure as I tinker on the edge of losing my sanity.

“Oh, Rylee, you are so responsive,” he praises, “so f*cking sexy.” As he replaces the warmth of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, the tempo and friction of skin on skin is exactly what I need. He slides up my body as his fingers continue their mind-blowing torture on my sex, his lips kissing, nipping, and licking until he reaches my face. Making me want like I’ve never wanted before.

“Let go, Rylee,” he demands with his erection pressing deliciously into my side. “Feel again, sweetheart,” he murmurs as my hands wrap around his shoulders, fingernails scoring his sweat-ridden skin. The ball of tension mounts, begging for release. I buck my hips wildly against him, his fingers increasing their tempo, rubbing, penetrating, driving me into a rapturous oblivion.