Guilty Needs(35)

“What do you want me to do?”

Her lashes fluttered. What did she want him to do? Oh, baby, don’t go there. Don’t ask me a question like that. How could she possibly answer him without exposing herself? Without making a fool of herself or putting him on the spot? “I want you.”

“Want me to what?” Disentangling her legs from his hips, he reached between her thighs again, stroked her, quickly, lightly, and then pulled back before she could work herself against his hand. “Want me to make you come? Want me to f*ck you…or should I keep being cruel?”

Lowering her lashes, she stared at him through them. Her voice shook as she said, “Fuck me. Please, Colby…I need you to f*ck me.” I need you to love me! But she wasn’t going to ask for things she couldn’t have.

But even she heard the desperate plea in her voice, something that went deeper than a need for sex—even a need as visceral and primal as this. Something flared in his eyes. Twin flags of color rode high on his cheeks and he hissed a breath between his teeth. He cupped her cheek in his hand. She could feel the wetness from her body on his fingers, smell the combined scents of their previous orgasms on him. “I’ll take care of you, Bree,” he muttered, crushing his mouth to hers.

He slammed into her full-force, so hard, driving deep—so deep that she knew she’d feel the sweet ache of it come morning. Her body shuddered from the force of his thrusts. She felt bruised inside, overwhelmed outside. She couldn’t even scream because his lips were there, catching each and every sound and swallowing it. The thick length of his cock throbbed and jerked inside her *. His free hand cupped her ass, his fingers digging into the crevice between her buttocks.

She jerked against his grasp, wanting to touch him, but he didn’t let her go. He rode her hard and even when she stiffened, climaxed around him and wailed into his mouth, he didn’t stop. He pounded away at her and when she would have sagged, replete and fulfilled, he growled against her mouth and demanded, “Again, damn it. Come again.”

He let go of her hands, pulled away and flipped her onto her belly. She started to push upward but he caught her wrists and pinned them to the bed beside her head. Wedging his knees between her thighs, he opened her more fully and covered her body with his, crushing her into the mattress. He couldn’t take her as deeply, not with her lying flat on her belly, legs trapped by his. Still, there was something almost painfully erotic about it, the way he f*cked her from behind, his cock digging into her sex—hard as iron, hot as molten steel—her wrists braceleted by one of his hands.

The thick stalk of his cock jerked, throbbed inside her and she whimpered, flexing her muscles around him instinctively, trying to hold him inside even as he withdrew.

“Now who’s being cruel?” he muttered, raking his teeth along her shoulder. “Perfect. Hot. Sweet. Come. Come for me, Bree.”

“I can’t…” she whimpered, even as she lifted her ass, pressing against him, seeking more.

He slid a hand down her side and gripped her hip. “Yeah, you can.” He let go of her wrists and settled back on his heels, urging her up onto her knees. Then he slid a hand around her, tweaking her clit, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, tugging, stroking, rubbing…

“Ohhhhhh…” She whimpered and shuddered, rocking back and forth, riding the thick pillar of flesh, rubbing against his hand—back and forth, back…forth… She straightened, settling back against his body, his chest pressed against her back.

He wrapped his forearm around her waist, steadying her body as she rode him. With his other hand, he continued to stroke her clit, teasing the swollen bud. Every touch was a mix of pleasure and pain, heaven and hell.

“Come.” He growled it, that sexy, harsh sound that rumbled out from deep inside his chest and shuddered over her like a velvet caress.

She did, on a low, harsh moan, exploding, everything inside her flying apart. She was flying. Soaring off someplace just this side of paradise and if he hadn’t held her so close, cradled her so tightly, she just might have gotten so lost in the pleasure, she would never have returned from it.

Distantly, she felt the jerk and throb of his cock as he emptied himself deep inside, flooding her with the hot, wet splash of semen. He whispered her name, his voice a mix of pride and awe.

The whisper came to her through a clouded haze of need and exhaustion, following her into dreams.




She came awake slowly, her body wrapped in heat. An unconscious smile curled her lips as she stretched, arching her back as the vivid dream from last night began to dance through her brain.

“Morning.”

Her mouth went dry. Slowly, she pushed up onto her elbow and looked downward. There was an arm wrapped around her waist. Muscled, lightly dusted dark hair. Slightly boney wrist, long-fingered hands… She knew those hands.

Oh, damn do I know those hands. They are the most perfect, most beautiful hands in the world.

Squinting, she sat up and looked down at Colby. His lids were still closed, a smile playing at the corners of his lips but he most definitely was there.

Nonchalantly, she slid her hand under the sheet and pinched her thigh. Hard. The sharp pain didn’t make her wake up, which meant only one thing, as far as she could tell. This wasn’t a dream.

Last night hadn’t been a dream.

“Good morning.”