Chapter 15 #2
With a heartfelt groan, he dipped his head and put his mouth on me. The heat and warmth, the caress of his lips against my skin, caused a decadent pleasure to skitter through me.
“I thought you didn’t require begging,” I managed breathlessly, squirming, struggling, still trapped.
“I don’t.” His voice was so low it was almost inaudible. “But I’m not opposed to having you at my mercy.”
He swirled his tongue over a nipple, and when I cried out, unable to hold it back, he shifted and suddenly I was free of my sweatshirt, he was free of his shirt, and then his mouth was on mine.
After a drugging kiss, he pulled back and took me in, sitting there topless on the washing machine, legs splayed to accommodate him.
His eyes darkened. “You take my breath away.”
“I’m trying to take something else.” I reached for the button fly on his Levi’s, tugging them open, reaching inside like a kid on Christmas morning.
I got him in hand—nope, correction. Hands.
It took both, and I promptly lost a moment in time because while Ryder Colburn in clothes made me speechless, without them…
well, there was a power outage in my brain.
He snorted. I’d said that out loud. “Live up to your expectations?”
“I mean…” I fumbled with words. “You’ll do.”
He rocked into my hands and I might have whimpered.
With a rough laugh, he lowered his head, moving in for a hard, hot kiss while his hands went on a tour down my body, the calluses on his palms doing something to me I couldn’t have imagined.
When his fingers hooked into my jeans, he stared into my eyes as he popped the top button, the only sound in the room being my ridiculously labored breathing and the subsequent rasp of my zipper.
Sliding an arm around my waist, he lifted me up to slowly pull the denim down my legs, taking his sweet-ass time.
He smiled again when I yelped as my barely covered butt landed back on the cold metal of the washing machine.
Taking in the sight of me in nothing but a teeny tiny bit of lace, he stilled, giving a heartfelt groan.
“Oh, Penny. Look at you.” His eyes zeroed in on the apex of my thighs. “I’m going to be the one begging…” Then he dropped to his knees. “I’m curious.”
“About?”
My breath hitched as his fingers scraped the lace to the side, exposing me. “About everything. What turns you on. What you look like when you come unraveled. But right now…” He lowered his head to kiss first one inner thigh, and then the other.
And then in between.
“What you taste like.” At the first stroke of his tongue, I cried out, then covered my mouth with my own hand. He let out what might’ve been a chuckle, then did that thing with his tongue again, and I’m pretty sure he whispered, “ Yum .”
Then he added his fingers to the mix.
I gasped and fisted my hands in his hair.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he whispered, grinning up at me, the image so sexy I had to close my eyes as his clever tongue lapped at my center, his big hands wrapped possessively around my thighs.
I bit my palm as I wriggled and writhed under his ministrations, touching whatever part of him I could reach, which wasn’t nearly enough.
When I let out a moan of frustration, he finally captured my hands in his and held them down on either side of my hips without missing a beat.
I came in shockingly little time, shaking, trembling, gasping his name, utterly outside my own body. When I stopped hearing colors and seeing sounds, he was still on his knees before me, pressing a chaste kiss to my inner thigh.
Looking like sin incarnate.
“I… You…” Nope, didn’t have words back yet. Deciding to show not tell, I pressed my foot to his chest and nudged, wanting to reverse our positions so I could return the favor.
Instead, he rose and brushed a sweet kiss across my lips. A we’re done here kiss. “But?—”
His forehead pressed to mine. “I don’t have anything with me.”
And when I just stared at him, confused, his eyes softened. “A condom.”
“Oh.” Dear God, would I have even thought of it? “Guess you’re not in the habit of seducing a woman on her washing machine.”
“Believe it or not, this is a first.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Only with you, Wonder Woman.”
I wasn’t sure when the snarky nickname he’d given me had turned into a term of endearment, but it melted me. His hazel eyes, more gold than green at the moment, held affection, and a heated hunger and desire that gave me goose bumps.
“I’m on the pill,” I said quietly. “And also, in case you couldn’t tell by how fast I went off, it’s been a while for me.”
“It’s been a while for me too,” he said. “But…” He leaned into me with one hand at my side, the other lazily gliding down my still quivering body. “You deserve better than a laundry room, Penny.”
“I love this laundry room.”
His mouth twitched. “Yeah?”
This time when I gave him a shove, he backed up so I could hop down.
He let me push him until he’d gracefully hoisted himself up, taking my spot on the washing machine.
Leaning back on his hands, legs spread to give me room to stand between them, he watched me as I looked at him.
He really was beautifully made, all hard muscle and sinew, and I wanted to taste. Everything.
So I let myself.
I kissed my way down his throat, his chest, then playfully bit a nipple, eliciting a sharp inhale and an arching of his hips beneath mine, his fingers tightening in my hair.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered, giving his words back to him.
“I’ve got you.” And then I wrapped my hand around the base of him, licking him up his length like a lollipop.
Since he utterly stopped breathing, I did it again, relishing his rough groan of approval.
With a smile, I slowly sucked him into my mouth.
“Fuck, Penny,” he breathed, rocking his hips, which did beautiful things to the muscles in his torso.
I thrilled at the sight of him, head back, eyes closed, throat bared, a look of total abandonment and sheer pleasure on his face as low oaths and fervent praises and pleas tumbled from his lips.
I pulled back only to sweetly murmur that I didn’t require begging either.
This had my name rumbling from his throat, and then again a few minutes later, a warning as his hands came up and tried to pull me from him.
Knocking his hands away, I took as much of him as I could, smiling around him as I watched his triceps twitch with the need to fist his hands back in my hair.
He muttered something that sounded like “killing me,” the words going straight to my head like a heady wine.
I just hummed a wordless answer, unable to take my eyes off him.
Reaching up, I ran my nails down the flat plane of his stomach, and he erupted, my name on his lips as he shuddered and shuddered, while I did what he’d done for me… stayed with him.