Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
SOPHIE
The Cole and Spade Hotel was only two buildings down from mine, the presidential suite sharing the same view I looked at from my living room of the endless water of the Atlantic.
Colson hadn’t turned on the light when we walked in; the moon created such a vibe through all the windows that I told him not to.
With the curtains open, the glow was enough to see what we needed.
Which was each other.
I walked over to the far wall, my hand on the center of the glass, my fingers stroking the large, oversize pane as though I were tickling the moon’s surface.
That was when he came up behind me. His hard-on pressed against me, and my eyes closed the moment I felt his breath on my neck.
I tilted my head, giving him more room, and he took it, going in deeper.
His lips didn’t stay at the base; they trickled down my shoulder and up to my ear. “Do you want a drink?”
“I think I’ve had enough of those.” Not too many that my decision-making was gone. I knew exactly what I was doing and where I was and how this merciless desire would have been there even if alcohol weren’t flowing through me.
“What do you want, then, Sophie?”
I wanted to come. It was that simple.
But tonight, I was going to be specific on how he made that happen.
With the strength and weight that came from his body, more of me moved against the cold window, which only made him lean further into me.
His hands were navigating my curves, staying above my clothes this time, unlike when we had been at the bar.
He swept around my hips and over my ass, slowly dragging up my sides to my ribs.
There, he tickled, until he cupped my breasts.
“Your tongue,” I finally answered.
When he thrust his dick into me, the way his hard-on was positioned allowed me to feel his piercing, the metal grazing my backside as he clasped my nipple.
It was a rough, relentless pinch that had me exhaling, “Yesss.”
I wanted it harder, and it was as though he read my mind because as he loosened his grip and I thought he was going to switch to the other side, he came in powerfully.
“Fuck.”
“Sophie …” His tone was gritty, full of need and hunger. “Your body feels incredible.”
He arched my hips toward him and reached beneath my skirt, resuming the same kind of touch I’d experienced earlier—a double focus where his thumb was on the top of me and his finger moved toward the bottom. He was covering my most sensitive spots, and I was doing everything I could not to scream.
He didn’t deserve to hear that kind of reaction.
Not for everything he’d put me through.
Because if what he’d said was true—that the dominant had had a whole reason for leaving me hanging at Lush—then the sounds of my pleasure would be as satisfying to him as getting me off.
He wouldn’t get one without the other.
My fingers tightened in a ball as he dipped in; they pounded the glass as he twisted his hand. My nails clawed down to the ledge as he reached my G-spot. So many men thought it was mythical, but Colson hit it every time. And as he did, I started to unravel.
Quickly.
An orgasm was teasing me, igniting through my core in small waves. The only way to hold it off was by peeling myself off the window and turning around, causing his hands to drop from me.
The sudden change, going from such a high to an extreme low, was jarring.
Enough so that I groaned. I could tell he was surprised that I’d done it, too, but he must have assumed I was ready for more because he reached for the sheer curtain that hung next to us—the one that framed this section of window—gazing up as though he were going to pull it from the rod.
That was when it clicked—he was going to use it to tie me.
Bondage was one of my favorite fetishes.
I loved the loss of my hands, the restraint of my feet, the submission of my entire body.
The trust that was involved. The way everything became so heightened when I couldn’t reach, grasp, pierce.
Even the softest caressing of lips felt different when I couldn’t control when it happened.
But tonight, there would be none of that.
“Colson”—I wrapped my fingers around his arm and squeezed—“get on your knees.”
He left the height of the curtain to look at me. “You don’t want me to tie you—”
“I want you right there.” I pointed at the floor in front of me. He leaned in, and as his lips got closer, I stuck my finger on them, stopping him from getting nearer. “Make me come.”
His smile spread against my skin.
“You’re so fucking hot when you’re giving me orders.”
“Now.”
He took a few steps back and knelt. His position was as tantalizing as foreplay. The desire in his eyes, even in the dark room, was making me wetter. This dull throb had existed between my legs for far too long. His hands were exceptional, but this was a job for his face.
I took a step and then another. “Lift my skirt.”
“You don’t want to take it off—”
I raked my hands through his gelled hair, gripping the strands. “Lift it, Colson.”
In my heels, I was the perfect height; his mouth, once he completed my order, was aimed directly at my pussy.
He moaned the second the fabric was out of the way, the V between my legs finally revealed.
As I continued to hold his hair, not allowing him to move, he stared at me—not up, but straight, giving off the impression that he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
“Let me taste you.” He held the back of my thighs, sliding his body down ever so slightly. “Sophie, give me your pussy.” He was begging. “Fucking feed it to me.”
“How badly do you want it?”
A question I never asked. It was always the reverse; I was the one who answered. But the longing in his expression told me there was nothing he needed more. And those words—whenever they hit my ears—would wrap around me as vigorously as his mouth would.
“Don’t even question it. I’m fucking aching for you.” He grabbed his dick through his shorts. “You have no idea.”
“I do.” Because he’d put me through hell. “I know just how it feels to want something, to the point you would do anything to have it.” I pulled back on his hair. “Show me your tongue, Colson.”
I hadn’t actually seen it. I’d felt it—in my mouth, on my body—but that was the extent.
He held my hips as his lips parted, his tongue sliding through the opening.
“Flatten it.”
He had it pointed, and upon my direction, he loosened the muscle, which then caused it to come out further and lengthen.
“Yes.” The size was impressive, the width would span far more than I needed, and the end of it would give me what I wanted. “Lick me.” When he went to move forward, I halted him, staring into his eyes. “You have one job. To make me remember this moment for the rest of my life.”
The enjoyment I saw should have been a warning, but I was positive I had the reins, and nothing was going to surprise me.
I was wrong.
He traced his finger from my clit to my ass, and without even a heads-up, no warning whatsoever, he entered that forbidden hole.
My gasp, a breathy inhale that sharpened when my lungs were full, didn’t stop him, nor was it intended to. All it did was fuel him. The same way my screaming, “Colson,” did.
He continued past his knuckle until he was fully buried. “You didn’t expect this. Good. You’re not going to expect the orgasm I’m about to give you either.”
He ignored the way I was holding him, as if I could tear out his strands and he wouldn’t care, and his mouth dived straight to my clit.
“Ah!” The moan shot out of me before I could do anything about it.
There was no lapping, like he would do if there were a cone of ice cream in his hand. This was a steady flick across my clit, a quick suction of his lips, followed by a bold flash of teeth, shoving me toward that needed build.
“Oh my God!” My head fell back.
This was what I had wanted, what I’d dreamed of.
But the feeling he created wasn’t just from the grinding of his tongue; there was the added incentive of his finger, one that plunged its entire length, at a pace that was firing up something within me.
A combination I never anticipated, especially not like this.
Yet it all was working together, my orgasm on the brink of explosion. I just needed a few more swipes; my body was tingling toward the peak, my mind concentrating on that fragile spot, waiting for its fulfillment before everything except my clit and ass turned numb.
And when that happened, his tongue giving me the amount of friction I needed, his finger setting off its own kind of smolder, I began to shudder.
“Colson!” This wasn’t a ripple through my stomach. This was completely consuming, entirely stimulating, a surge that swelled from my face to my toes, settling in the middle, where it carried on. “Oh! Fuck! Me!”
What typically lasted only a second or two extended far beyond.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
The only thing I could do was yell, “Yes,” over and over.
I knew my body had thirsted for this, but the result wasn’t anything I had been prepared for.
The shudders turned to quivers, racking my navel, my limbs trembling, stealing the air from me, so when the stillness came, I could only whisper, “Fuck.” That was all I had left.
He kissed my pussy.
The tip of his tongue tenderly licked from bottom to top.
And when my stare met his, his lips glistening, he said, “Let me do that again. Fuck, Sophie, please.”
His finger was still inside me, his tongue close, but not on me.
A man with his level of experience knew a woman needed a second.
I took that brief pause to reach behind me, grabbing hold of his wrist and gently pulling until his hand was no longer near me. Now that I was freed from every part of Colson, I took a step back.
“What are you doing?” He reached for me, but I wasn’t within his grasp.
When I could, I smiled, the expression taking time since the spasms were still owning me. “If you think a submissive woman enters a room without a plan, you’re highly mistaken. Don’t question my intelligence, Colson. I don’t do anything without a purpose, including this.”
His brows furrowed in the moonlight, and I was sure he recognized some of my statement since it mimicked one of his.
“What are you saying?”
“I have two words for you.” I took another step back.
“Which are?”
I pulled down my skirt and walked to the door. “Good night.” I let the door slam behind me.