Cora Carmack: Losing it

I pulled back, and waited for his eyes to open, for him to watch me. When his eyes met mine, they were a bit too clear, too focused for my liking. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress. He made a noise in his throat when I started pulling it up, but I didn’t stop until I had it up and over my head. At first his eyes stayed resolutely on mine, but when I leaned forward, taking care to brush my chest against his, he looked down.

His intake of breath was exactly what I’d been looking for.

The strapless black bra was so tight that I had possibly the best cleavage I had ever or will ever have. And the panties, well, you could barely call them that.

“Bliss,” This time, there definitely was a warning tone. “You’re overestimating my self-control.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I estimated your control perfectly.”

I leaned forward until I was pressed tightly against his hips. My lips hovered over his, waiting for him to kiss me. I was done being on the offensive. It was his turn to come to me.

As always, the anticipation alone was enough to do me in. His gaze darted between my eyes and my mouth, and now that I was down to only lingerie, his hands met my skin no matter where he put them. One was currently scalding my lower back, and other was fisted in my hair. I rocked my hips against him, and his hand in my hair tightened.

“Bliss.” His response was choked, like he was in pain.

I smiled. This was kind of fun.

“Garrick,” I returned, eyes wide and as innocent as I could make them.

“This is the opposite of slow.”

I exhaled, swaying forward so that my bottom lip barely grazed his. I rubbed against him, grinding at the slowest pace I could. I said, “I think we’ve gone slow enough.”

The arm at my back pulled me in more, until my chest pressed against his. He still had a shirt on. I wanted it gone.

“What does that mean?” Ah, there was that look I loved—dark, a bit unfocused.

“It means,” I said as my hands found the bottom of his shirt, “That I’m done going slow.”

I pulled, and his arms followed automatically, allowing me to pull the shirt over his head before his hands went right back into their previous positions. Our chests met, skin sliding against skin, and he groaned. He said, “I’m going to need you to be very clear about what you’re saying right now, Bliss.”

All right, it was time to just say it. And no euphemisms like beast with two backs or horizontal tango or anything ridiculous. Sex. If I was going to have it, I could sure as hell say it. I leaned in and kissed him for courage. To hell with making him come to me. That took too long. When I pulled back, his lips tried to follow. I appeased him with another quick kiss and said, “Make love to me?”

Everything about him tensed—his hands on me, his gorgeous face, and his body beneath mine.

“Bliss, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do for me.”

“What about tonight has felt like I was being forced to do anything? In fact, I feel a little like I’m forcing you.”

His lips crushed against mine—teeth and tongues and heat. It was just enough to make me shake with want, and then it was over.

Garrick was panting when he replied, “You’re not forcing me to do anything. I just want you to be sure. You can say stop at anytime.” His lips pulled wide. “You don’t need to make up a new pet.”

That grin… it was so infuriating and sexy at the same time.

I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed away, standing up. “If you’re going to keep trying to talk me out of it…”

I hadn’t even taken one full step away before he’d grabbed me, and spun so that my back hit the mattress. My breath left my lungs in a rush, and the sight of him prowling above me made heat curl low in my belly.

“I wasn’t trying to talk you out of anything. I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Huh. He’d tried to pull the gentleman card that first night, too. He was still hovering over me, and I looped my fingers into the belt loops on his jeans, and tugged him down on top of me.

“Do me a favor? Be a gentleman tomorrow?”

I was fairly certain he said, “Yes Ma’am,” but then he was kissing me, and I couldn’t care less.

He kissed me hard, and long enough that I could taste more of him in my mouth than myself. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, because I had learned that every time I did, he pressed his hips harder against mine.

If he weren’t careful, I would draw blood soon.

His hands smoothed up my sides, sending shivers across my skin when he passed the sensitive spots. And finally, one hand stole around my back, reaching for the clasp of my bra.

His lips left mine for the hollow of my neck, His chin, once again covered in scruff grazed the top of my breasts.

I arched up toward him at the same moment that the snaps on my bra came undone. The cold air hardened my nipples into little buds, and I ached for him to touch me. He said once that we could own each other, and I wanted nothing more in that moment. Garrick kissed down between my breasts, his cheeks grazing slightly across the swells. I dug my fingernails in again, and his hips pressed down at the same moment that he took one breast into his hand and the other into his mouth. Something sparked beneath my skin, and I moaned, bucking up against him in response.

He rolled one nipple between his fingers, and the other he squeezed lightly between his teeth, and I could feel darkness creeping in on my vision.

Words streamed from my mouth, some familiar, some not.

The last of which was, “I love you.”

He rose up off me with a grin. “If I’d known it was that easy to get you to admit how you feel, I would have done this a long time ago.”

My brain was beyond responding with words. Instead my hands found his belt. I unbuckled it, and then flicked open the button to his jeans.

His cheeky smile was gone now.

Slowly, I pulled down his zipper, and the sound alone made a moan rise in my throat. I pushed his jeans and boxers down together. When he pulled back to shuck his pants off completely, I took the moment to slip my panties down and off, and grab a condom from my drawer.

When he looked up, he froze for a second in shock, as if he just now realized how serious I was. He shook it off quickly, and swooped in for a kiss.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I do.” I told him. I don’t think I could have done it if I didn’t know that. That was what I’d needed. That’s what made the fear, the nerves bearable.

He kissed me again, and his fingers found my entrance. He slipped two inside at the same time that his tongue met mine. He started slowly, then his kisses sped up along with his fingers. I squeezed his shoulders, my fingernails scraping lightly, and was rewarded with a crooking of his fingers inside me.

I moaned, breaking our kiss.

His lips returned again to my chest, placing feather light kisses everywhere he could reach. I could feel a pressure building low in my core, and I pulled his head back up to mine. He pressed his forehead against mine, our lips touching, but not kissing, then his palm pressed down against me, and an explosion ignited beneath my skin. Like a string of fireworks, my world detonated into bursts of light and color.

The world was coming together and crumbling to pieces behind my closed eyes, and my mouth was still open in a silent scream. I felt his kiss below my ear, and I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his middle.

The length of him pressed against me, and my whole body shuddered in response.

“Are you sure?” He asked me again.

My brain didn’t know how to play it cool at the moment, so I said, “Please, God, yes.”