Chapter Seventeen
Dylan
I couldn’t tell you what it was.
The public, lingering kiss in the dining room.
The oral in bed.
The snuggling all night.
The gift basket.
All of it?
But I needed that man in a primal way. It was this strange jonesing feeling in my damn organs, in my blood.
I could hardly think of anything else when I went back to my room completely alone to shower while I waited.
When he still wasn’t back after that, I dried my hair, slathered on some lotion, and slipped into the nicest pair of panties I had and paired it with a simple tee since once he was back, I didn’t intend to be clothed long.
Then, well, I waited.
Paced.
Waited some more.
Until, finally, I heard the bleep of the keycard in his room.
And what did my needy ass do?
I ran through the doorway and leapt into his arms.
I’d never leapt into anyone’s arms in my life.
Just as I knew he would, Colter caught me and held onto me as my lips claimed his.
It started out hard and desperate, full of the antsy feelings I’d been experiencing for almost two hours while he had his meeting in Saint’s room.
But as Colter straightened, turned, and pressed me back against the door, the kiss shifted.
His mouth angled, turning desperate into soft, sweet. I melted into it, into him, my hands framing the sides of his face, holding him to me.
His teeth nipped my lower lip, a teasing bite, and my mouth parted on a needy little whimper.
His tongue swept inside, teasing over mine, slow and gentle, but getting hungrier by the moment.
His hand curled around my jaw, the touch gentle even as his lips started to sear into mine as the need intensified.
Still, he seemed in no rush to move things along.
It was my hands that grew greedy, sliding from his neck down his arms, over his shoulders, down his back.
Colter’s mouth broke from mine, his lips trailing up my jaw, over my ear, then down my neck.
A delicious little shiver moved down my spine at the brush of his beard and the warmth of his lips.
He moved across my neck, intensifying the sensation.
But then his hands were sliding to my ass again, holding on as he pulled me away from the door, turned, and walked back toward his bed.
He sat down on the edge, taking me with him to straddle his waist.
Only then did his hungry gaze meet mine.
His fingers drifted up, snagging the hem of my tee, then slowly pulling it up.
My hands went over my head, and he pulled the material free.
I watched his face as he took me in, his eyes going half-closed, his chest rising and falling faster.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands grazing down my arms as my heart swooped at the compliment.
I’d been complimented before. Men would say just about anything to get you in the sack. But I’d always been ‘hot’ or ‘sexy.’ No one had ever called me beautiful before. It felt different. Because it was a compliment fully about me, not about how I made him feel.
“Colter?” I murmured, making his gaze flick back up to me.
“Yeah?”
“If you don’t touch me, I’m going to take over.”
That got a low, sexy chuckle out of him.
“I only get to do this for the first time once,” he said, his fingers drifting over my hips. “I’m not gonna be rushed.”
That had no right to be as hot as it was.
Even if my desire felt like a coil twisted way too tightly.
I took a slow, deep breath, trying to remind myself to sink in, to enjoy, to commit every touch, every look, every sound, and sensation to memory.
Even if it felt unbearably torturous to not push him backward, reach into his pants to free him, then feel him finally slide deep inside me.
It felt like an eternity before his hands closed over my breasts. His wide palms covered me completely, his skin rougher on my softer chest.
My head fell back on a moan as his hands squeezed.
Then his thumbs and forefingers were rolling my nipples, the sensation moving from his touch to right between my thighs.
Colter’s head ducked, then sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, his lips pulsing until it felt like my heart beat along with the sensation.
Then he was moving across my chest, dragging out the sensations with wicked patience.
When his head finally lifted, his hands went to my waist, pushing.
“Stand up for me,” he demanded, voice velvet.
I scooted off and stood between his thighs.
His hands slipped down, snagging the waistband of my panties and drawing them slowly downward until they slipped to my feet.
“Turn around,” he demanded.
My belly fluttered, but I did as instructed.
I didn’t know his intentions until I felt him pull me back, making me straddle him backward as he pulled me onto his lap.
Then his hands were greedy, moving all over me, getting to know every inch, learning where he could make me shiver, could make me squirm.
My head fell back as his hand slid between my thighs, stroking up and down me before sinking in, fingers thrusting at a maddeningly slow pace.
“Colter, please,” I whimpered, my hips rocking.
“Yeah, baby?” he murmured, his voice thick.
“I need you inside me,” I admitted.
“Yeah?” he asked, leaning down to nip my shoulder. “How do you want me?” he asked, fingers thrusting faster. “Like this?”
“No.”
“You want to look at me?” he asked.
“Yes.” My voice sounded like a whine.
His fingers slid out of me. “Show me what you want,” he demanded, slipping his fingers into his mouth to taste me.
I didn’t waste any time.
I moved to his side, slipping backward, then reaching for him, pulling him until he turned to face me.
“Like this,” I demanded, trying to pull him down to me. But he stayed stubbornly out of reach, then pulled away to stand.
Eyes on me, he reached back to drag his shirt off.
Then his hands moved down to work his button and zipper free, reached blindly into his pocket to dig around in his wallet for protection, then slipped his pants and underwear down.
A throaty sound escaped me as I pressed my thighs tightly together to ease the ache growing between them as he slid on the condom, his heated gaze on me.
Colter shook his head and reached for my knees, grabbing them and butterflying them open as he stepped closer, then lowered down slowly.
When he was close enough, I reached for him, trying to hurry him up, to pull him flush to me.
But he was too strong.
And too determined to take his time.
He lowered his face to my hip, kissing his way up the curve, then the dip of my waist, over my ribs, under one breast, then up between.
Desire pulsed low and relentless, and each brush of his beard brought a dizzying awareness that had me trembling with need.
“Faster,” I whimpered. “Now.”
He angled in toward my neck, shaking his head.
When he spoke, his breath was warm on my ear.
“I don’t want fast,” he said, lips pressing to my earlobe. “I want you soaked,” he said, lips kissing my forehead, “aching,” he went on, kissing my cheek, “and mine.”
His lips sealed to mine as his hips lowered down, making his hard length press against my center.
I moaned against his lips.
The sound had him bearing down harder against me and rocking his hips until the press of him was against my clit.
Mindless with need, I grabbed him with my hands, with my legs, pushing against his ass with the heels of my feet, trying to shift him where I needed him most.
“Please,” I whimpered, feeling close to tears with desperation.
Colter pulled back, looking at me for a long second, something unbelievably soft in his gaze.
“I’ve been dreaming of this,” he told me, making my heart squeeze. “What you would be like all soft and sweet and open for me.”
His hips shifted.
I felt the press of him against me.
“I want you to remember this,” he said, applying more pressure, “every time you close your eyes.”
Then he pressed in, slow and deep, until my back arched and his name was all I had left.
“Fuck,” he groaned as my moan filled the room when he settled deep. “Fuck, baby,” he said, forehead pressing to mine, “you feel so good.”
All I could manage was a whimper as my legs bracketed his hips, as I held him tightly inside me.
I was aware of everything at once.
I felt each brush of our bodies, the rush of air from the vents, the sheets beneath.
Every nerve ending thrummed.
I was more inside myself than I’d ever felt before, more aware of myself because of him than I’d ever known.
“Feel how good you’re taking me?” he asked, pulling back, then pressing back in, dragging a choked sound from the back of my throat.
It had never been like this before.
Slow.
Intense.
Intimate.
He started to move then. An unhurried, careful pace, making me feel each thick inch of him.
“Colter… I…”
I had no idea what I was going to say.
My brain was misfiring.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, his forehead pressing to mine. “I’ve got you. Just let go.”
Then we were moving together, my hips meeting his, doing delicious little circles when he was buried deep.
The pressure built.
Deep in my core, yes.
But there was something else, something in my chest, something that was expanding, threatening to break.
“There you go,” he said as I tightened, as my body trembled. “Come for me, baby.”
The release spread hard and deep, dragging a wrecked cry from between my lips as the pleasure rolled through me over and over.
“You sound so good when you come for me,” Colter said, working me through it before settling deep and coming with me, his whole body tightening, my name a soft curse on his lips.
His weight came down on me, and I clung to him as that pressure in my chest finally snapped.
The intensity of it had the tears sliding down my cheeks before I even realized they’d formed.
I was crying?
Over an orgasm?
What the hell was wrong with me?
I had to get away from him before he saw.
That would be freaking humiliating.
“No,” Colter said, shaking his head. “Stay with me.”
“You’re… crushing me,” I said, looking for any excuse to get away from him.
But Colter was onto me.
He rolled onto his back but pulled me with him.
That position was infinitely worse.
He would actually feel the tears.
And they just wouldn’t stop.
“I said I got you,” he said, arms tightening as I tried to pull away.
“I need…” To what? Run? Hide? Lock away whatever this raw, open feeling was in my chest?
“To let yourself feel it,” he said, giving me a hard squeeze.
“Colter, let me go.” There wasn’t much fight in my words.
He rolled us onto our sides, his arm loosening.
I didn’t move fast enough.
The next thing I knew, he had my chin between his fingers and was forcing my face up.
“You don’t need to run away,” he said, his hand shifting to wipe the wetness from my cheek with his thumb. “This doesn’t bother me,” he added, moving to my other cheek.
There was a strange shivering sensation in my stomach at his words, at the sincerity I believed was behind them.
“It bothers me,” I admitted.
“Because it genuinely bothers you, or because you didn’t want me to see?”
That was a good question.
I didn’t have an answer to it.
“It’s stupid.”
“To cry?”
“No. Well, yes. But to cry over sex. That’s stupid.”
“Maybe it would be stupid to cry over a casual one night stand fuck,” he agreed. “But that’s not what this is.”
“Then what is this?”
“Something more.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“That’s alright. I’ve got time for you to figure it out.”
“Or you can just tell me.”
That got a little chuckle out of him, making his eyes crinkle up with his smile.
“I can’t tell you what you’re feeling, Dylan. I can just be here while you work it out.”
“Why would you want that?”
“Want what? To be there for you?”
“No. Well, yeah. I’m kind of a bitch.”
“You’re… prickly.”
“And who wants to get stabbed like that?”
“Maybe someone who knows what’s beneath the thorns.”
“An emotionally repressed loner?”
“Someone I’ve really enjoyed getting to know. Someone who I want to know even better.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “But if you need to run right now, you can. Just know I’ll be here when you’re ready to come back.”
“You just want more sex,” I said, trying to lighten the mood because his words made me feel way too vulnerable.
“I won’t deny that,” he agreed. “But more than that, baby, I want you. Go ahead and take as long as you need to wrap your head around that.”
Without another word, he was the one to pull away, to walk into the bathroom.
Alone, I jumped off the bed and rushed through to my own bathroom.
Because no matter how much a part of me wanted to cling to his words, to believe he meant them, the larger part of me was terrified.
That he meant them.
That maybe I could feel the same way.