Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
QUINTON
Celeste stands, hands by her side, lips parted around breathy inhales. The thin fabric of her long pajamas does nothing to cover her hard peaks.
“Everything okay?” I rasp.
I haven’t slept a damn wink. I tried to sleep in the guest bedroom, but the mattress was like a rock.
I, unlike Goldilocks, found the softest bed and fucking claimed it.
It just so happened to be Celeste’s bed.
And despite its heavenly softness, I have been tossing and turning all damn night with her fragrance penetrating every single thing in that room.
If I wasn’t hard before, I damn well am now.
She takes a step forward.
This time, we have no other distractions.
But it’s far too cold in this kitchen. I close the distance and sweep her into my arms. Her mouth is on mine a beat later.
Walking to the living room, I set her down on the sofa.
She pants where she sits, and I rekindle the fire until it’s crackling away and the room is warming up rapidly.
“Quin . . .” she breathes.
I pad to where she sits and drop to my knees. “Fuck, CC. I’ve been tossing and turning in your bed for damn hours. Hell, I have blue balls from smelling you all night and not being anywhere near you. Not touching you.”
“Not just me, then . . .”
Her eyes are ebony, consumed by need and the reflection of the flickering fire. Shadows dance over her face and neck. She’s ethereal.
“Quin, please touch me,” she begs.
No telling this man twice.
With deft fingers, I undo each button on her pajama top. And the lower I get, the slower my movements become. As if this moment is the one where we cross the line from fooling around to something far more serious.
After last night with Hank, my feelings for Celeste have amplified. Her dedication speaks volumes to the person she is.
When the last button pops, my hands drop to her sides, and I shift my focus up. Every heave of her chest has the shirt fall away a little more. Her hands move to mine, a finger tracing the back of my hand, like she too needs grounding in this intense parcel of time.
“Baby, I’m dying here, but I don’t want to mess this up by going way too fast.” I drop my head into her lap. Instantly, her fingers rake through my hair.
“Me either,” she whispers, cradling me as she bends down to dot a kiss into my hair.
Damn, it’s been so long since I was on the receiving end of a woman’s softness and affection. I’d forgotten how incredible it feels. And the need to return the feeling is overwhelming.
So much so, I rise, claiming her mouth. She slides forward on the sofa, closing the last of the space between us.
Trailing my knuckles over her collarbone, I nudge the shirt from her, exposing one perfect breast. And damn if my mouth doesn’t water like she’s the first woman I’ve ever seen bare.
Like she’s not the finest fucking meal I’ll ever have.
“I could fucking eat you alive,” I growl, tracking hungry kisses down the soft column of her neck.
“Do it, Quin,” she pants.
I will. I fucking will, but we’re taking this slow, remember.
My throat all but closes over with the need lining her voice. “Slow, remember.”
Fine hands tug at my shirt. “Off, please.”
“So fucking polite. Is this all I had to do to get your sweet side?”
Her mouth brushes over mine, little panty puffs caressing my skin as she nips my bottom lip. That’s all it takes to unleash the caveman in me. A low rumble rattles up my throat as I dip my head and clamp my mouth around a nipple.
A breathy gasp, “oh fuck,” escapes as she arches, her head falling back.
Heat roars through my body, and I’m hard as granite, my boxers barely containing my cock. Celeste’s needy hands hunt for who knows what as she opens further for me.
Fingers curl around my throat before they fall away, brushing over the tented fabric of my boxers a second later.
I release the peak with a pop, and brown eyes stare down at me on my knees for this stunning woman. I could spend every damn night with my knees pressed into the hardwoods if she’d let me.
“These pants are an abomination, baby. They’re coming off.”
She wriggles, lifting her hips as I tug the winter pajama pants over her ass and down her thighs. Taking each leg out in turn, I toss the pants on the end of the sofa. When I turn back, her shirt is draped over the hand she’s holding out. Her dark eyes burn into mine.
And I’m fucking breathless.
Chest heaving, I slide the shirt from her fingers and toss it to the end of the sofa as well.
In only panties, she sits studying my face, as if at any moment I’m going to change my mind.
Not damn likely, woman.
“Look at you, CC.” I tilt my head, letting my eyes shutter closed in an effort to stem the racing need threatening to have me blow my load in my boxers before I even get a taste of her.
Hell, that doesn’t help.
Dammit, it’s been way too long.
When fine fingers wrap around my jawline and her lips brush over my own, I open my eyes.
“Slow, okay?” she breathes.
“Yeah,” I rasp.
My head is tilted up as her mouth crashes to mine. Arms aching to hold her, body alive with the burn for her I can barely restrain, I meet her hunger with my own.
A little whip of a whimper spills from her lips to mine.
Fuck.
Pushing to my feet without breaking the kiss, I sweep her off the sofa and onto my hips.
Peaks pressed into my chest, she tightens her legs around my waist. I weave my hands through her hair, desperate to have her closer.
A little moan from CC and my hand sinks, cupping a breast, my thumb whispering over her nipple.
Her hips roll, back arching a little as she breaks from the kiss. “Fuck, Quin . . .”
“More, baby?”
I pinch the nipple, and she’s all but writhing in my hold. Turning a little, I kneel with one leg on the sofa and lay her down. When I release her and move down the sofa, she whimpers, “No, don’t let go.”
“Not letting you go, I promise.”
I dot kisses over her collarbone, taking bites of her delicious, soft breasts as I drift over one then the other. Her hands crawl through my hair, her thighs falling apart at the same moment she moans, the movements coming together like a fucking symphony.
Gripping her hips, I work my way down her skin until I’m nipping the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Fingers slip away from my hair, curling around the fabric of the sofa. Her panties are soaked. I run a finger over the edge where the lacy material meets her thigh. “I did this to you, Celeste?”
“Uh-huh,” she pants.
“Fuck, luckiest man alive.”
“Qu—”
I slip a finger underneath the band to find silky velvet skin slippery with need.
I groan, letting the sound rumble through my chest and past my lips. Fuck, I am starving for this woman. More so than anyone I’ve ever met.
“These are coming off.”
Worry twists her face as her tongue pokes out, wetting her lips. And when her bottom lip disappears between her teeth, I tug the panties over her hips. She lifts off the sofa, her legs trembling as I dispose of the last thing between us.
She closes her legs, looking up at the ceiling. Her chest rises and falls in shallow, snappy movements.
“Celeste, look at me,” I rasp.
She shakes her head, pursing her lips.
“Baby, you’re fucking stunning. And I’ll die a slow and painful death if you don’t let me between these pretty thighs soon.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Which part?”
“All of it . . . some of it?” She winces.
“Tell you what. I’ll take my time, real slow, and you tell me when to stop. Okay?”
“A-alright.”
“Open these sweet thighs, CC. Let me in.”
They fall open and her hands cover her face instantly.
No fucking way.
I drag her hands from her face. “Eyes on me, or this ends now.”
A whimper puffs from her as she shifts her gaze to my face.
“Good girl.”
I move back a little more and dot kisses on the inside of her thigh, not breaking eye contact.
She’s tense. Strung out tight, but for all the wrong reasons.
“Breathe, Celeste. Let me make you feel good. You deserve that and more.”
“Okay,” she utters.
I press her thighs open a little further. The one near the edge of the sofa slips off. I take it in my hand, resting her leg over my shoulder.
“Oh my god,” she whines, tilting her head up so her gaze is anywhere but on me.
I nip the inside of her thigh. “Eyes on me, remember.”
Slowly, her head drops. Her eyes, pupils blown out so wide her gaze is almost black, meet mine.
“Anything you don’t like, tap my shoulder.”
She nods.
Now I take a moment to take her in. She’s bare. Her perfect, bare pussy glistens. And fuck, a man has never needed something this much.
Instead of devouring her straight up like I’m dying to do, I drop kisses to the top of her apex, letting a finger trace the sides of her entrance.
“Quin, oh . . .”
“More, baby?” I snap my head up, absolutely aware of my cruelty in denying her the touch where she wants it now.
But I want her to feel every single thing.
I want her to need my touch.
Crave it.
Need me.
Crave me.
“Eyes on me,” I say, sweeping a finger through her entrance. Her hands leave the sofa, sinking into my hair. Her thighs fall open further.
Much better.
This time, when my mouth meets her pussy, I run my tongue through her glistening entrance.
The second I get my first taste of her, my balls are tightening, my cock impossibly hard.
I drop my forehead to her hip. Fuck. At this rate, I’m going to blow my load before she has a chance to come around my fingers.
“Quin?” She pushes up on the chair, panting.
“I’m good. It’s just been a while, and yo—”
My breath vanishes.
Fuck.
Her hands find my face, lifting it until my gaze finds her. “Your eyes are . . .”
I’m guessing my pupils are dilated as fuck. “Just drunk on the taste of you, CC.”
“Oh . . .” A ghost of a smile plays over her lips. “Well, in that case,” she says, releasing my face, “as you were.”
I chuckle. She always surprises me in the best way possible. Not wanting to waste a single moment of our stolen time together, I duck my head, planting a kiss over her swollen clit.
The throb coursing through it drums against my lips.
I kiss it again before sending my tongue around it. I grip her hips tight.
CC writhes on the sofa, back arching as she moans through parted lips.
“Still more, beautiful?”
“Don’t you dare stop, MacKelvie.”
I slide two fingers inside her tight, wet heat. When her back leaves the sofa, I clamp my teeth around her sweet little nub.
“Oh fuck,” she pants.
Her pussy quivers, tightening around my fingers. I pump them slowly, in and out, as I suckle her. Drawing out the pleasure from Celeste is a newfound pastime that will never get old.
She’s been beautiful since the day we met, but right now, she’s stunning.
Nothing will ever top the way she looks impaled on my fingers.
Well . . . maybe.
I can only imagine how fucking incredible she’d look riding my cock. Or manhandled in my rough grip while I fuck her, wild and desperate . . .
Oh fuck.
I suck down hard on her clit and pick up my pace when she starts to moan. A moment later, I’m rewarded, my name chanting through her lips as she milks my fingers, hips bucking off the sofa.
Losing contact for a beat, I say, “Good girl. Come all over my fingers, CC.”
She does what she’s told, riding my hand, bucking against my mouth as she teases out the orgasm.
And damn, I thought I needed her before . . .
When she catches her breath, she sits up, kissing my mouth.
Her hand falls to my stomach before her finger slides beneath my waistband.
“Tell me what you need, Quinnie. Please, I want to return the favor. Now I’m the one dying to taste.”
Big brown eyes hold my gaze as she slips from the sofa to her knees.