Fueled(book two)(80)

Oh f*cking hell! Seriously? What does he have in mind here? “I do know how it feels,” I try to emphasize but only succeed in sounding breathy. Desperate. “Your responses have done the same to me.”

He kisses my neck softly, working his way to my pleasure point just below my ear lobe. His whisper of a touch makes me slick with arousal. “No. I don’t think so, Rylee,” he murmurs, his lips moving to my ear. “Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on a meeting, trying to hide my hard-on because I can’t get your texts out of my head? What an idiot I look like when I draw a blank at a question about wing adjustments to the car because all I can think about is savoring the sweet taste of your * again?” He brings a hand up and lays his palm on the base of my neck, holding my head still, so that I have no option but to meet the challenge in his eyes. “Did it feel the same for you, Rylee?”

I bite my bottom lip and shake my head no, our eyes, violet to green, in a silent exchange. “Say it.”

“No.” I take in a shaky breath, completely under his spell. Captivated. Mesmerized.

“Then tonight I’ll show you,” he tells me, sinking to his knees on the floor of the limo as he moves between my legs and captures my mouth again. His tongue licks in and slowly moves with mine as his hand slides up the outside of my thigh, pushing my dress up as he goes. “Sweet Jesus.” He exhales as his fingers skim over the garter belts I wore specifically with seducing him in mind. For some reason though, I seem to think the tables have turned now.

I’m the one being seduced.

“Now I’m going to think about undressing you all night until you’re standing in your heels and these and nothing else,” he says, pulling on a garter strap so it snaps back against my thigh. The slight sting mainlines a jolt straight to my already quivering sex.

“I think you’re a little overdressed.” He smirks, the devilish look back on his face. I look at him with trepidation, all my focus on the carnal look in his eyes, until I feel his fingers dancing over the dampened silk of my panties. The slight fabric barrier mutes his touch, and I instinctively lift my hips up, begging for more.

“Colton,” I gasp.

“And I’m a little underdressed,” he murmurs, a teasing quality to his voice. I have a quick second to wonder what the hell he means by his comment, but then the limo’s cool air bathes my heated flesh as he pulls my panties to the side and the question falls from my mind. I keep my eyes on him, body humming with uncontrollable need as he ever-so-slowly trails one finger up and then down my slowly swelling folds. And I am gone—my thoughts lost to the dance of fingertips, the searing heat of desire, and the unyielding ache of need.

He leans in and teases me with a soft, tantalizing kiss—f*cking my mouth with reverence—that pulls all the way from my toes and back up. He’s assaulting all my senses, hindering all coherent thoughts, manipulating my body with a focused purpose.

I cry out and into his waiting lips as he tucks three fingers into me, circling them around so that they rub all of my sensitive walls. I throw my head back without shame and emit a strangled moan, his fingers invading the depths of my sex and manipulating me in the way I so desperately need. I angle my hips up, straining to be closer, his fingers to delve deeper, needing this release brought on by him. The connection.

My body climbs. Tightens with the anticipation of my mounting orgasm. I’m so close to free falling into ecstasy that I can’t hold back the moan that falls from my lips.

And then suddenly I’m empty.

“What?” I cry, flashing my eyes open to see Colton’s green ones filled with humor and a heavy dose of lust before me.