Falling Into You (26 page)

“Scream for me, Nelly.” He accompanies the order with one last smack, the hardest, and nips my clit with his teeth, almost too hard, but not quite.

I can’t help but obey, screaming loud and collapsing forward. Colton catches me in his arms as he stands up. I’m twitching with wave after wave of aftershock, but I force my eyes open, watch as Colton moves across the hall into the bathroom, digs around in the cabinet under the sink, pulls out an unopened box of condoms. He opens the flap and withdraws a string of packets, rips one free, and tosses the rest on the floor next to the bed.
 

Watching him do this drives home what’s about to happen. Letting him go down on me, touching him, kissing him, making him come with my hand, all that is one thing. But actual sex, him above me, sliding into me…that’s different.
 

He strips off his boxers and settles onto the bed next to me, leaning over me on one elbow. “Second thoughts?” He asks, having seen the look on my face, probably. “There’s no pressure. You don’t want to do this, we don’t—”

“I do.” I lift my hand to caress the knobs of his spine down to his ass. “I really do. It’s been so long I’m nervous. But I want it.”

“And the ghosts?”

“There, but I’m working past them.” I follow the line of his side, trace his ribs, then back down to his hip. “You?”

“Same.” His eyes rake down my body, then flick up to meet my eyes. “You’re so sexy, Nell. So beautiful. I can’t take it, you’re so fucking gorgeous. I don’t deserve a delicious little angel like you.”

And just like that, the nerves are subsumed beneath a tidal wave of tenderness and desire. “I’m no angel,” I say, lifting up on one elbow and pushing him onto his back. “And you do deserve me. You deserve someone better than—”

“I deserve exactly you,” he cuts in, settling his hands on my hips as I kneel astride his thighs. “Only you. The good and the bad. All you, all beautiful.”

I can only stare at him in response, blinking back emotion. Not tears, not really. Just…emotion. I shift my gaze to his torso, the dragon spewing fire, the lettering, the images, all painted across his gloriously muscled physique. I smooth my hands over his chest, down his stomach, trace the V-cut with trembling fingertips. I follow the lines of the V downward to the close-trimmed pubic hair, and—
god
, he’s huge—his shaft. I lick my lips, and then bite down, hesitating. He doesn’t move, just holds my hips loosely.
 

“Touch me,” he says. “This is whatever you want. Your pace.”

A fingertip, at first. Just the pad of my index finger grazing the very tip of him; he jerks under my touch, and his stomach retracts slightly, then relaxes. My lip hurts, I’m biting it so hard, and his fingers tighten in the flesh of my hip, his self-control exercised. I’ve done this to him before, but he was sleeping then, not watching. It’s different. I want to know how he likes it, what he wants, what feels best. I want to just touch him, hold him. I want to wrap my lips around him and taste him. That’s something I’ve only done once or twice before a long time ago, and I find myself wanting to try it with him.
 

I shift back on his legs so I’m on my shins, straddling his knees. Then, a deep breath, and I’m wrapping my hand around him. He’s thick in my palm, hard as rock, the skin soft and scorching hot. My heart is a wild drum in my throat, I’m barely breathing. His eyes are on me, his gaze unwavering and unreadable. I slide my hand down to his base, and he’s so long I can place my other hand on him, cradle him with both fists. I slip my fists up his length, then down again, and then I’ve got a rhythm going.
 

“God, Nell. I love the way you touch me.” His voice is husky, slow.
 

I don’t answer, not until I’ve bent over him so his pink, veined flesh in front of my face. “I want to taste you.”

“Whatever you want,” he says. “But I’m not gonna come in your mouth.”

“No?” I hesitate, then touch my lips to his head.
 

“Nope. Not this time, at least. I want to be inside you when I come. I want to be staring into your beautiful eyes when we come together.”
 

He tangles his hand in my hair, then slumps his head back when I find my courage and slip him between my lips. He tastes of skin, salt, and heat, and there’s moisture slicking his tip, touching my tongue and tasting of faint musk and salt. He moans, and I take him deeper, pushing him inch by inch into my mouth, running my tongue along him. I’ve got my fist around him still, and I slide it up and down on his base, and then my lips are touching my fist and he’s as far as he can go before I gag. I back away, sliding him out, moving my hand on him, then descend once more. He flutters his hips slightly as he reaches the back of my throat.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to gag you.”

I pull my mouth off him, but not my hands, and look at him. “It’s fine. I like the way you taste.” I don’t wait for him to answer, but wrap my lips around him again and take him deep.
 

This time, I gag myself with him on purpose, out of curiosity, to see how far I can go.

“Jesus, Nell.” He tries to pull his hips back, but there’s nowhere for him to go, and he’s hissing, tightening his fingers in my hair. “If you’re gonna do that, at least try to relax your throat. Don’t do anything you don’t want to. Don’t do anything ‘cause you think I expect it.”

I back away, then down again, and this time I relax my throat muscles and take him deeper. Oh god, oh god,
ohmigod
. So deep. So huge. Almost too much, but I like it. I don’t know what that says about me, and I don’t care. He likes it, I can tell. He’s holding back, but he really likes it. I set a rhythm, backing away until his tip is at my lips, then take him as deep as I can, sliding my fist on him as I back away.
 

“Fuck, Nell. Fuck, that’s incredible.” He’s breathless, trembling from the effort to hold still.
 

“You can move,” I tell him. “Don’t hold back.”

He groans and begins to move into my rhythm. I glance up at him as his head is at my lips, and his face is turned up to the ceiling, a look of pained rapture on his face. I love knowing I’m giving him this pleasure. His fingers are clenched into my curls, tight against my scalp. He pulls on me gently, encouraging me.
 

He moves, moves, thrusting into my mouth. I take him, take all of him. I know he said he wasn’t going to come in my mouth, but I decide to make him. I want it. I want to swallow it, taste it, feel it, feel him lose control in my mouth.
 

“Touch my sack,” he says, the words grated past clenched teeth. “Please.”

I cup his balls in one hand, and they’re tight, swollen. I massage them as tenderly as I can, moving my other hand at his root, pumping swiftly, bobbing onto him faster and faster. His breathing is ragged, his hips moving in uncontrolled spasms. I take him deep every time, and I don’t gag. I’m proud of that. I like feeling him in my throat, knowing he likes it, loves it. He’s given me such pleasure doing this to me, and now I can give it back.
 

He tries to pull away. “I have to—have to stop. I’m too close, Nell.” He tugs on my hair, twice.
 

I only move faster, and then I feel his hips give in and thrust into me again. I feel his balls tense and pulse, and then his hips strain at the apex of a thrust, deep in my throat. I feel a hot rush spurt down my throat. I back away so his tip is between my lips and suck hard. He groans loud and his hips buck and another stream jets into my mouth. I taste it this time, thick and hot and salty on my tongue, sliding down my throat as I swallow. I squeeze his base and pump, sucking still, and he unleashes a third time, a lesser amount and a softer spurt. When I feel the spasms subside, I take him deep one last time, then spit him out and slide up his body so I’m resting on his chest. His still-hard tip nudges my folds, and I can’t help but wiggle against it, working it in. I want to feel him inside me.

Colton is tensed and trembling, shuddering. “Holy shit, Nell. That was fucking incredible.”

I giggle against his shoulder. “Thanks? I wasn’t sure if I was doing that right, but you seemed to like it, so…”

He stills. “You’ve never done that before?”

I shrug. “I
have
, but…it was a long, long time ago, and I only did it a couple times.” That’s as close to details as I’m willing to go with him in this moment.

He seems to understand, because he just nods. “Gotcha. Well, I can tell you it was the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt.”

I feel a thrill of pride. “Really?” The back of my mind tells me he must have a lot of experience to base it on, which is something I don’t want to examine too closely.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“You’re just saying that.”

He laughs. “No, I’m not. It really was that good.” He moves, a sudden shift, and I’m on my back and he’s above me, lips touching my shoulder, pressing soft kisses to my skin. “And now I get to kiss every incredible inch of your body.”

And he does, every single single inch. He starts at my shoulders, kisses slowly across my breastbone, kneeling between my legs, then slides his kisses down between my breasts. I want his mouth there, but he teases me, kissing the swell of each breast but not taking the nipple into his mouth as I want him to. He touches his lips in a series of wet kisses down my stomach, across my belly to my hips, down each thigh. I expect him to put his mouth to my core, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses dangerously close to each side, above, the inside of each thigh with his rough cheeks sandpaper against my sensitive skin, but he never touches his mouth to my folds.
 

And then he’s moving back up after having kissed my shins and my calves and my feet. He gets to my knees, then hesitates, takes my hips in his hands and twists me onto my stomach. I pillow my head on my arms and try not to be self-conscious as he kisses my calves, the backs of my thighs, then, yes, each buttock, wandering over the globes, paying special attention to it, palming the cheek around his lips, squeezing the muscle, tracing the crease.
 

His finger delves into the crease, and suddenly the all-over kissing isn’t as sweet as it is erotic. His mouth is still moving over my buttocks, but his finger, it’s going between my thighs and back up, deeper.

“You liked my finger inside you back here, didn’t you?” he asks, his voice rough and demanding.

I can only whimper in response. I did like it. I can’t say that though.

“Answer me, baby.” He nudges my thighs open with his knees, spreading me. “Did you like it?”

He keeps pushing my knees until they’re bent as far as they can flex, and I’m spread completely for him. His palm circles my backside, and I can sense he’s waiting for my answer. I don’t. I want to push him, see what he’ll do.

He spanks me again, a light but stinging slap. Immediately, my core clenches and I’m wet, dripping. I moan into the pillow.

“Yes, Colton. I liked it.”
 

“Want it again?”

“Uh-huh.” I can’t make words. His thick forefinger is trailing down my crease and probing in, causing my breath to hitch and my body to tremble.

His other hand slides under me, his fingers curling up to massage my clit. Lightning shoots through me, and I wriggle under his touch. His finger slides up and down still, closing in but not pushing or pressing. His touch on my clit is gentle and soft and slow, questing circles to get me ready. Oh, I’m ready. So ready. I stretch my legs to open more, and now his finger is gone briefly then back again. I feel something wet and warm against me back there, and then there’s pressure.
 

“Tell me if it’s too much.”
 

He pushes in, oh-so gently. Oh god, oh god,
ohmigod
. Now his circling fingers are swift and accurate, sending heat through me. I shift and arch, bow my back and roll my hips. So good. So good. I lift up onto my knees and push back, liking the fullness of his finger inside me. Oh god.
 

“Colton…don’t stop.”

“No fucking way.” He slides his finger deeper, and I’m nearly undone.
 

It’s so intense, fiery and stretching and slightly painful, but pain is familiar and welcome and erotic. So perfect. But no, I realize even as I think it that this isn’t perfect. Him inside me would be perfect. Just like this, but his cock instead of his fingers.

“I want you inside me.” I turn my head to whisper the words over my shoulder. “Right now.”
 

“Like this?”
 

“God yes. Like this.” My voice is a fierce whisper.
 

I hear a packet rip, feel his hand withdraw from my core, and I turn to watch him slide a condom on one-handed. I rest my weight on my elbows, watching him take his shaft in hand and guide it to my entrance. A gentle nudge, and then his eyes on mine as he hesitates.

“Nell, I—” He’s so dominating some times, giving me orders that I find myself
wanting
to obey, taking me to delirious heights of ecstasy. And then, other times, he’s hesitant and unsure, but it’s only ever as regards to me, making sure I’m on the same page as him, making sure I want what’s happening.

I can’t form words to answer him, so I push back against him, and I feel him slide into me, filling me.
 

Oh…my…god. I hang my head between my arms and brace my shoulders, thrust back to crush him deep.
 

“
Fuck
, Nell. God, you’re so fucking tight.” His voice is strained, thick. His hand grips my hip where it’s bent and pulls me against him.

And now he’s flush against me, hips to my ass, finger inside me there still.
 

“You’re so
big
, Colton…” I say, then have to stifle a giggle, realizing how that came out. I said it breathily, and it sounded like something from a porno. But it’s true. He’s huge, stretching me.
 

“Is it okay? I’m not hurting you?”

I shake my head. “It’s perfect.”

I feel the pressure building, a volcanic heat inside me. He slides out and out, and then he’s poised with the tip inside me, hesitating a heartbeat, then plunges in slowly and I cry out, a breathless shriek. Another slow slide out, and then back in, his finger pulsing inside me, slightly in and out, pushing the pressure to a head, lightning building and crackling in my blood, in my muscles. He hesitates at my entrance again, his tip nestled in my folds, and this time when he thrusts in, it’s faster, almost rough.