London Falling (Falling #2)(21)

His chest was broad and tapered into a perfect “V” shape. The abs…God, his abs were like parking curbs, perfectly spaced and ready for me to park my lips and tongue.

As my breathing slowed, I thought about what had transpired. We hadn’t gotten to the main event yet and the score was two and zero, with me leading in orgasms and Collier falling behind. This was new territory for me. Usually I was the one who took charge, controlled the man into doing whatever I wanted.

With Collier, relinquishing control came without a second thought. What was most mind-boggling was what I could feel and sense in his emotions. He was happy, even elated that he pleased me. He wasn’t boasting, bragging, or requiring I reciprocate. He just held me tight, perfectly warm and safe within the comfort of his strong arms as the fire he’d lit dissipated.

It made me feel sad and disjointed that the smaller Brit wasn’t getting any attention. I knew I needed, no wanted, to rectify that situation. It was time for me to level the playing field.

I started by kissing my way up his chest. He shifted, allowing me to flop a leg over his hip and push him on his back. He groaned.

Teasingly, I sat over his length and used my hips to thrust up and down against his ridged member, coating his boxer briefs with the wetness between my thighs. His fingers dug into the sides of my hips as he rocked forward, pressing that long erection perfectly against my oversensitive clit.

Before I could I take over, one of his hands cupped my breast and the other dove between my thighs, circling that talented thumb around my clit once more. Shivers ripped through me and I arched into his hand. As I tipped my head, my hair fell in tumbling waves along the bare skin of my back.

“So perfect,” he whispered, then leaned up and took my nipple between his lips. The warmth spread through me, centered at my heart, then bled through every neuron and pore until it turned into the most pleasurable tingles. He was perfectly content to take his time, spread out the pleasure instead of racing towards the finish line. I respected that but I needed him. Wanted to fill my body with his essence.

I shook my head but he continued to nibble and pull with his lips, elongating my nipple into a wickedly tight, sensitive peak. His tongue flicked the tip in maddening whirls, his other hand moved to its twin, mimicking the movement of his mouth with his fingers. In seconds, he had me wanton, grinding my sex against his cock.

“I need you inside,” I pulled his mouth away from my breast and searched his eyes. The brown and sparkling gold flecks I saw earlier were replaced with dark pools I’d willingly drown in. He was as far gone as I was.

“Condom?” I questioned, breaking through his haze. He gripped me to him, reached one long arm out and rifled through a side table drawer. I grabbed the foil packet and kissed my way down his long body.

Taking just a moment before I undid my present, I nudged my cheek along the fabric of his boxer briefs, inhaling his musky scent through the material. His hips jumped. I swept my hand over the hard bulge between his thighs, tracing its length, driving him insane with lust. He hissed and his hands tightened into fists at his sides. The emotions he emitted pounded the air around us, hitting me with immense pleasure. It was like rolling around naked in Egyptian cotton. Smooth. Delectable. Enchanting.

I could feel his desire, his lust. It consumed him and was about to be released onto me. This was why I sought sexual relief so often. Being empathic and able to share in this experience on a completely visceral level was earth-shattering. With Collier, the feelings were heightened a million times over, ready to explode into something I’d not experienced, or at least I hadn’t in a very long time.

Pulling his boxer briefs down his long, muscled legs, I made quick work of sliding the condom over his impressive length. I stroked him a few times, becoming more familiar with this sensual piece of him. The man was scrumptious everywhere. I knew he was going to feel good buried deep inside me. Choosing to draw it out, I thumbed the wide crown enjoying the surge of heat and wetness that seeped between my legs when he moaned.

“Any more of that, Beauty, and we’ll be over before we’ve begun,” he warned. “Come here. Bring those sweet lips to mine.”

I crawled up his body and took his mouth. He still tasted of the berry notes from the wine and something a little darker, richer. He sucked my tongue and nibbled my lips. “Now, my Beauty. You take me,” he offered.

I shook my head and stared deep into his dark eyes. “Together.”

His tongue swirled with mine, then he went deep, kissing me with intent and fervor. His wet, dizzying kisses held promises of things to come, things I knew I wasn’t ready for, but I dove in anyway, giving as much as he gave. Then his hand slipped between us and I leaned up.

Our eyes met when he centered his cock at my entrance. I pushed the first inch in and we both gasped. As his fingers tightened around my hips, I pushed down and he pushed up. The moment our bodies met and he was seated completely inside of me, tears sprung to my eyes. I hadn’t cried during sex since my wedding night. What the hell was he doing to me?

I looked down at Collier and he was holding himself stiff as a board. The tendons in his neck stood out, strained tight with the effort not to move. The death grip he had on my hips stung, but wasn’t hard enough to bruise, just tight enough to hold me in place. The muscles of his abs were bunched, coiled and ready to thrust. Everything about him was strung tight, honed in on the target between his legs. He was glorious in his nudity, downright magnificent.