Driven (45 page)

I step back from him, never breaking eye contact, raise my hands to the back of my neck, and slowly untie my dress. “It’s a little hot in here, don’t you think, Ace?” I toy with him as I take in a fortifying breath and let the material slowly slide down the curves of my body. I see the fire leap into Colton’s eyes as he takes in what’s underneath. I’ve worn my Agent Provocateur strapless bra and panty set in a rich, dark purple lace that hides little but highlights my figure perfectly in an overtly sexy way for a modest girl like me.

“Sweet Jesus, woman! The sight of you is enough to drive a sane man crazy,” he drawls as his eyes drag their way back up and down my body again. He rubs his thumb over his other fingers as if they are itching to touch me. I step toward him again, my body hyperaware of everything around us and between us. I reach out and lay my palms on his chest, his body quivering in anticipation.

I slide them down and undo the top two buttons of his jeans relieving some of the tension in the stressed seam of denim. My hands slide around the inside of his jeans and boxer briefs and grasp the solid muscles of his very fine ass. I skim my fingers back up and over his lower back while I trace my tongue down the trickle of hair below his belly button. I look up at him as I sink to my knees and very slowly undo the last three buttons of his jeans.

He stares at me beneath eyelids heavy with desire, his lips parted, and need palpable. I lower his jeans and boxer briefs, his iron length springing free. I run my fingers down the dark smattering of hair and grip the base of his shaft. I lean forward and Colton sucks in an audible breath as I circle my tongue lightly around the bell-shaped tip and then flutter it slowly down to the root and back up. My hand moves slowly up and down the veined length while my other hand comes up to cup his balls beneath, gently grazing them with my fingernails.

I look up at Colton and I’m swallowed up by the look in his eyes as he watches me. His jaw flexes in expectancy as my fingers tease him and when I take him very slowly into my mouth, he winces in pleasure before throwing his head back and hissing “Fuccckkk, Ryleeee!”

I tease him gently at first, only taking the tip of him into the warmth of my mouth, rubbing my tongue with pressure on the sensitive underside just beneath the rim of his crest. I twist my hand around his shaft, stimulating him with both friction and wet heat.

When I’ve tormented him enough and can feel the tension in his thighs from anticipation, I sheath my teeth with my lips and take him all the way in until I can feel him hit the back of my throat. The guttural groan that comes from Colton’s lips fills the room as the musky taste of his arousal and evidence of his desire for me churns an exquisite ache that invades the depths of my very core.

I bob my head down his length again, my throat convulsing when I reach maximum depth, and slowly press my tongue on the underside as I pull it back out. I feel Colton’s fingers tangle into my hair as the blissful need for release starts building within him. The harsh exhale of words and beseeching calls of my name, urge me on to move faster. Quicker. I take him deeper and stroke him harder. He suddenly swells some and I can taste a trace of his piquant flavor, both signs he’s close.

“Rylee,” he grates out between clenched teeth, “I’m gonna come, baby. I want to be buried in you when I do.”

The cupping of his hands on my shoulders along with his words causes me to stop. With his length still hard in my mouth, I look up at him to see his face pulled tight with pleasure. A man on the razor thin edge of losing control. He convulses as I hollow my cheeks and pull tightly on him one last time.

My thoughts don’t have enough time to register Colton hauling me to my feet and crushing his mouth to mine with near violent desire. Spirals of sensation whirl through me as he urges my back up against the windowed wall. The anticipation of what’s to come causes the ache to intensify in my groin.

Splinters of my raw need ricochet through my body and straight to my core when the rasp of his calloused fingers find their way beneath my dampened panties. He parts me gently and finds my clit, waiting and throbbing for his attention. I grow dizzy wanting more as his fingers to work their magic stimulating my button of nerve endings. His mouth plunders mine, filling me with his addictive taste and claiming all of the responses his fingers are wheedling from me.

“I want you in me, Colton,” I pant out to him when I break from our kiss. These are all the words he needs because he is suddenly lifting me and pulling my legs around his hips. The delicate strap of fabric holding the two triangles of my lace panties together snaps as Colton rips them from me.

I’m no longer the one in control. The notion sends an unexpected thrill through me but the thought is short lived as Colton spans his hands across my sides and lifts me up, pressing me against the wall for leverage, and buries into me all the way to the hilt in simultaneous synchronization. I cry out an inarticulate sound, overcome by the feeling of fullness as he stills so that I can adjust to him.

“Christ, Rylee,” he gasps brokenly, his face buried in my throat. The gentle draw of his mouth on my skin there causes me to dig my fingers into the solidity of his shoulders and slowly flex my hips into him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he pants as he rocks his hips out and then strokes back into my quivering softness.

His body slides against mine, his hands trapped between the glass and my hips, pressing me into him, and pushing himself as deeply as possible. I draw a shuttered breath through parted lips as my body softens and heats up at the same time. “Colton,” I mewl as I accept his voracious tempo that’s pushing me toward the precipice. Filling me until I can hold no more. Connecting us in every way possible. Blood pounds in my ears and sensation rockets through my body as we find each other’s rhythm.

“Hold on, Ry. Not yet!” He commands as he quickens his tempo and brings me closer to the brink. Our lungs pant in short, sharp breaths, hands grip sweat-slickened flesh, and mouths claim any part of the other we can taste.

I can feel my body quickening at the same time Colton stiffens to iron inside me. “Colton,” I warn, my body tensing around him.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he shouts at the same time I’m unable to deny myself another single second. My thighs turn to steel as I crash over the edge, lost in the oblivion of the explosion within me. The intense contraction of my channel grabs hold of Colton and drags him over with me. A litany of pleasure-induced words falls from his lips, his face buried in the curve of my shoulder as his body shudders with his release. We stay like this, connected as one and locked around each other momentarily, until we slowly slide down the wall to the floor. We sit entwined, my face is nuzzled against his throat, and his arms encircle me.

And in this moment, I am completely and utterly his.
Swallowed by him. Lost to him and the moment so much so that I am frightened by the power of my feelings.

We sit like this, tangled around each other in a spellbound state without speaking. The lazy tracing of fingers on cooling skin and the reverberation of our hearts against each other is the only communication we need. Our labored breaths finally evening out as the sky falls completely dark and leaving us bathed in moonlight.

I’m afraid to speak. Afraid to ruin the moment between us seeing as the other two times we’ve been intimate, the after effects have not been so positive.

“You okay, Ace?” I ask finally, my foot slowly falling asleep and needing some movement for circulation. Colton grunts an inarticulate sound and I laugh at him, pleased that I reduced him to such incoherence. I try to pull away from him and lean my back against the glass behind me, but he just shifts with me so that his face is now in the crook of my neck. He moans a sigh of satisfied contentment that spears straight into my heart.

My eye catches my torn underwear on the floor and I snicker. “What is it with you and tearing my panties off, huh? I would have gladly stepped out of them for you.” I scratch my nails languorously over his back.

“Takes too long,” he snorts, the movement of his unshaven jaw tickling my hypersensitive skin.

“Those were one of my favorite pairs. Now I don’t have any to match this bra,” I pout fraudulently.

Colton pulls away from me, a bawdy smirk on his lips and humor in his eyes. “Tell me where they’re from and I’ll buy you a hundred sets so long as you stand before me on display like you did tonight.” Colton leans forward placing a languid kiss on my lips. “Better yet,” he says pulling back and tracing a finger along the line where my breast meets the lace of my bra. “Since that is such a mighty fine bra, maybe you should just wear that and nothing else under your clothes. Talk about sexy,” he grunts. “No one would even have to know.”

“You’d know,” I counter arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, I would,” he grins wickedly, “And I’d walk around hard all fucking day thinking about it.”

I laugh. A deep, soul-baring laugh because I am so overcome with emotions that I’m bubbling over.

“Shall we get off the floor?” He asks as he shifts and unfolds himself from me. He rises, reaching out for my hand, and helping me up to my feet. “The bathroom’s through there,” he points to the wide opening to the left of the bed, “if you want to get cleaned up.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, self conscious in my nudity all of the sudden despite what just transpired between us. I gather my dress, pressing it to my front and look for what’s left of my panties. “What—?” I ask when I can’t find them. I look up to see Colton watching me as he pulls his jeans up over his naked hips, the remnants of my underwear haphazardly stuffed in his front pocket. He stills when my eyes remain on his.

Leaving his fly unbuttoned, he walks to me and reaches out to tug my dress out of my hand. I try to pull it away but I realize his intentions a moment too late. “For God’s sake, Rylee, there’s no need to be shy. After you just stood before me like that?” he shakes his head at me. “You’re hot as hell and having confidence about that is even sexier, sweetheart.” He senses my remaining unease and leans in to brush a kiss on my lips. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he smirks at me but holds my dress out.

I stare at him, naked except for my bra, trying not to fidget. His compliment washes over me and eases my insecurities a tad. I am plain old me and Colton frickin’ Donavan is in front of me. Telling me I am sexy. That he loves my curves. I feel like I need to pinch myself. Instead, I push down my lack of self-confidence and tell myself I can do this. A slow smile quirks at one corner of my mouth as I glance at my dress in his hand, before I very deliberately walk past him without taking it and walk confidently into the bathroom.

I can feel his smile rather than see it when I turn the corner into the oversized bathroom filled with granite and tumbled stone. I release the breath I was holding, proud of myself for having the courage. I glance up at my reflection in the mirror and am pleasantly surprised to see that my bag is sitting on the countertop. Grace must have brought it up.

“Feel free to grab one of my shirts off of the stacks in my closet,” Colton calls to me from the bedroom.

“Um–Okay. Thanks.”

“I’m going to run and get us a drink. Let Baxter out. I’ll be right back. Take your time.”

“Uh-huh,” I reply as I wander around the ridiculously large space. I walk into an open doorway to find a closet that would make Haddie the Clotheshorse cry. I peruse his vast selection of t-shirts and settle on a heather gray one. I press my nose into the fabric and I can smell the laundered scent that makes up at least one part of Colton’s scent that I love so much.

I clean myself up, freshen up my make-up some, pull on a pair of boy-short panties I had brought—because yes, even I knew this was a forgone conclusion—and slip Colton’s shirt over my head.

CHAPTER 24

With Colton still absent from the bedroom, I wander down the hallway and out the open door onto the second story terrace. I walk to the railing that overlooks the lower patio and the ocean beyond and lean against it, enjoying the nighttime breeze whispering over my face and the sight of the moonlight on the dancing waves.

I am so overwhelmed by the sequence of events that has brought me to stand where I am that I can’t even begin to process them. One minute I am lonely, afraid, and feeling too guilty to live again and a few weeks later I am here with a man who’s complicated and wonderful and so incredibly alive. I’ve gone from empty and aching and raw to happy and sated and feeling like I am having a slightly out-of-body experience.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier, I find you wearing one of my favorite shirts.” His words startle me from my thoughts, and I turn to find him beside me, holding a glass of wine out to me.

“Thank you,” I murmur taking a sip and reaching a hand out to rub Baxter’s head as he tries to squeeze between us again.

Colton edges a hip up on the railing and turns to face me as I look out at the water. “I like seeing you here,” he admits, his voice soft with reflection as he tilts his head and watches me. “I like seeing you in my surroundings, in my shirt, with my dog … more than I ever could’ve imagined.” I transfer my gaze from the water to meet his, trying to read the emotions swimming beneath the surface. “That’s a first for me, Rylee.” His confession is whisper soft, and I can barely make out the words above the noise of the surf.

I still when I really hear them, his silent admission speaking volumes to me. Holy shit! Does this mean that he means there is a possibility of more? That whatever we are is more than just one of his stupid arrangements? I can sense his unease that the vulnerability his words have caused him so I try to add some humor to relieve him.

“What? You don’t drag all of your wenches to this hideous lair of yours?”

He reaches out, a quiet smile on his lips that reflects in his eyes, and cups my neck, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Just the one,” he replies. I smile back at him, adoring the tender side of Colton as much as I love the stubborn, feisty one. He lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a long pull on it. “I brought up some dessert,” he offers.