Fueled (Page 72)

I laugh as he leans down and places his arm behind my knees, picking me up and carrying me over the broken glass of his beer that’s scattered all over the decking. He continues inside and carries me up the stairs into his bedroom. He flicks a switch with his elbow as we enter the room and a fire roars to life in the fireplace in the corner of the room.

He stops at the edge of the bed and places me on my feet.

“Is this the part where you take your deliciously, slow, sweet time with me?” I whisper, using his words from earlier.

I see his eyes spark at my words. He leans down and delves his tongue between my parted lips. “Baby, I want to enjoy every single inch of this ridiculously sexy body of yours.” I feel his hands on the zipper at my back and then my skin becomes chilled from the room’s air as he slowly parts my dress. He hints at the things he wants to do to me. His rasp of a voice caresses over me, matching the feel of the fingertip he trails down the path he’s unzipping. I feel the tug on the fabric, and it slides down and pools around my high heels.

“Christ, woman, you test a man’s restraint,” he swears at me, his pupils dilating as he absorbs the entire visual of my lingerie that he’s seen only in bits and pieces tonight.

I smooth my hands over the black lace piped with a fire engine red bra portion of my basque and continue down the fabric until I reach the garters attached to it. “You like?” I ask coyly, a smirk on my lips.

“Oh, baby.” He sucks in a breath of air closing the distance between us, his eyes devouring the sight in front of him. He wraps his arm around me and yanks me against him so we are face to face, our lips a whisper from each other’s. “I more than like. I want.” He growls as he moves us backwards and pushes me down onto the bed.

I lean my weight on my elbows and look up at him standing before me as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt. My mouth waters and desire coils as I get an inch by inch glimpse of the magnificence beneath. The hunger in his eyes is a promise of what he wants to do to me, and it leaves me revving with need. He shrugs off his shirt, the hard-edged muscles of his chest and abdomen leave my fingers itching to touch them. He crawls onto the bed, his knees nudging my legs apart as he sits between them. His fingertips trace heated lines up and down my inner thighs. My muscles tense at the feeling and tremble in anticipation.

“Colton,” I plead as his touch ignites the ache deep inside me. The need is so intense my hands snake down my abdomen and my fingers dig into the flesh at my hips in restraint. I’m bound up so tight that I need release.

“Oh yes.” He groans. “Touch yourself, sweetheart, and let me watch. Show me how much you need me.”

His words are all I need to throw my modesty out the window. My fingers dance down my mound, and I part myself, sighing in relief as my fingers begin to add the friction I need over my most sensitive part. Colton groans in lust as he watches, and the sound urges me on. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth as the sensation starts to pull me under.

“Rylee.” He rasps out a tortured breath. “My turn.”

My eyes flicker up to meet his, lids weighted with desire as I drag my fingertips over my clit one last time before pulling them away. His lips part in reaction to the moan that escapes between my lips and then curve in a wicked smile that has me arching my back, begging for more of his touch. His eyes hold mine as he leans down. I feel the gentle draw of his warm mouth on my aching hot spot and once again he drowns me. His passion swallows me whole.

We lay on our sides facing each other, our heads propped on pillows, our bodies naked, and our current desire temporarily sated. Craig David plays softly through the speakers in the ceiling. I drink in Colton, our eyes speaking volumes despite our lips remaining silent. So many things I want to say to him after what we’ve just exchanged. It wasn’t just sex between us. Not that it ever has been for me, but tonight especially, the connection was different. Colton has always been a more than generous lover, but how he was tonight—his slow, worshipping touch—has left me in a state of blissful daze. I find myself becoming so lost in him, so blanketed by everything that he is, that in a sense, I have found myself again.

I am whole again.

“Thank you.” His words break our silence.

“Thank me? I think I’m the one who’s just come multiple times.”

The crooked, cocky grin fills me with such happiness. “True,” he concedes with a nod of his head. “But thank you for not pushing earlier.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell him, feeling like the smile on my face is a permanent fixture.

We fall silent again for a bit before he murmurs, “I could look at you for hours.” I blush under the intensity of his stare, which is funny considering I should be blushing rather in regards to all of the various things he just did to please me. But in this moment I realize that I am blushing because I am completely naked to him—stripped, bared, open—and not in just in the literal sense. He is looking at me, seeing into my eyes and through the guard I have lowered to reveal the transparency of my feelings for him.

I shake myself from my thoughts. “I think I should be the one saying that,” I tell him, the dancing flames from the fire bathing a soft light across his dark features.

He snorts at me and rolls his eyes. Such a childish reaction from such an intense man that it softens him, makes my heart stumble that much more. “Do you have any idea how much crap I got as a kid for being so pretty,” he says with disdain. “How many fights I got in to prove that I wasn’t?”