K. Bromberg: Driven

“Man with a one-track mind,” I tease as my words falter when he brings me into the doorway of his bedroom. “Wow,” I breathe.

“Now this is my favorite place in the house,” he says and I can see why. An oversized bed is situated in the room with the footboard facing the view of the ocean. The room is done in soft browns and blues and greens. A love seat is situated on an angled wall and a coffee table is in front of it where magazines and books are haphazardly thrown. A large dog bed sits in another corner beneath a fireplace with chewed toys and a rumpled, blue blanket. The focal point of the bedroom is similar to downstairs, a wall of glass consisting of opened windows and the breeze blowing in off the ocean.

“I can see why,” I tell him as I’m drawn to the windows and stand to watch the distant lights of boats at sea making their way home. I can see the silhouettes of surfers waiting to catch one last set before paddling in. “Your place really is magnificent.”

Colton takes me by surprise when I feel his arms slide around my waist and pull me into him, his front to my back, and nuzzles his nose into my neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs as I angle my head to the side to expose the span of skin where he lays a trail of feather-light kisses down to my shoulder and back up. My body shudders in reaction to his touch and a soft sigh escapes between my lips. His hand splays over my stomach and presses me against him, my pliant curves molding to his firm lines. His mouth is at my ear again, kissing that sensitive spot just underneath. “Can I tell you how much I enjoy having you here?” he whispers, licks of his breath tickling my ear.

I sigh into him, leaning my head back to rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for tonight, Colton.”

He chuckles. “I sure hope you’re not implying it’s over yet, because I’m just getting started.” His hands run up and down the side of my torso, fingertips skimming the edges of my breasts. Tiny hints at what’s to come. I arch against him at his touch, my body humming with desire, and my heart reveling in his tenderness.

I tilt my head up and he angles down so that even in our awkward positioning, he captures my mouth with his. His tongue delves past my lips and licks at mine. Teasing. Entwining. Tasting. Worshipping. I turn into him, needing more to feed my insatiable craving. He backs me up against the wall of glass, his forearms press against it framing my head while his body pushes into mine.

A strangled sigh escapes him as I nip at his lower lip and run a tongue down the line of his unshaven jaw. I reach his ear and tug on his ear lobe with my teeth. “No,” I breathe into his ear, “the night is most definitely not over, Ace.” I make my way down the line of his throat and back up to lay a kiss at the pulse in his throat. “It’s just beginning.”

“Rylee,” he moans a sound of pure appreciation.

I feel empowered by his unbidden reaction to me. I want to show him how he makes me feel. Tell him with actions since I am unable to with words. I dip my tongue in the indent of his collarbone, his coarse hair tickling my lips, his scent enveloping me, and then trail a row of soft kisses back up to his other ear. “I want to taste you, Colton.”

I hear him suck in a breath at my request, and suddenly his hands are on the sides of my cheeks, cupping them. He pulls my face back from his, his thumbs rubbing over my lips, swollen from his. His eyes search mine, for what I don’t know, but the depth of emotion that I see in his is all I need to know. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, trapped in our hazy state of desire. Our silent interlude lasts until he groans, “God, yes, Rylee,” before crushing his mouth to mine. His kiss is a bombardment of what I see in his eyes: greed, passion, blazing need, and an unexpected urgency. I have no chance to offer anything for Colton just takes, and I submit willingly to his unspoken commands. I hand myself over to him, mind, body, heart and soul.

I ease back from the kiss, a salacious look in my eyes that stops Colton from pulling me back to him. Our chests heave with anticipation. I bite my lower lip as my mouth spreads into a wicked grin. My thoughts turn to how I want to run my tongue down his body and feel him shudder in response to my touch.

I reach out, surprised by the wanton woman in me he is bringing out of hiding. Max’s passive, shy girl who thought of having sex with the lights on as being adventurous is no more. Colton makes me need things I never knew I wanted. He makes me feel sexy. Desirable. Wanted.

I bunch the hem of Colton’s shirt up until my hands graze his abdomen. I run a fingernail across his stomach just above the waistline of his jeans, and I smirk as his lips part and eyes darken with utter need from just my touch alone.

I start to pull his shirt up and off of him. “Let me,” he rasps as he reaches up and grabs the back of the neck of his shirt and pulls it off in one fell swoop as only a man who has no worries of messing up hair or make-up can.

“Just how I like you,” I murmur, taking in his sculpted shoulders and lean torso all the way down to the trail of hair in the middle of the sexy V of muscle that disappears beneath his waistband.

“My body is yours to take advantage of,” he breathes with a sexy smirk hinting at the dirty things he wants me to do to him. He holds his hands out to his sides, offering himself up to me.

I reach out and cup his neck, bringing his face to mine. I press my lips to his and dart my tongue in his mouth, pulling back every time he tries to control the kiss. “I. Want. You.” I whisper.

I skim my fingers down the plains of his torso, nails scratching softly so that his body twitches in reaction. My mouth follows the same path but on a much more leisurely pace. Colton lets his head fall back and groans a soft sound of pure appreciation when I stop and lick the flat disks of his nipples. His hands trail down my arms, up and over my shoulders, and fiddle with the ties at the back of my neck. “Uh, uh, uh,” I chastise, intent on my own pace of seduction. I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes as I lace openmouthed kisses down the skin-gloved muscles of his abdomen. “My turn, Colton.”

I step back from him, never breaking eye contact, raise my hands to the back of my neck, and slowly untie my dress. “It’s a little hot in here, don’t you think, Ace?” I toy with him as I take in a fortifying breath and let the material slowly slide down the curves of my body. I see the fire leap into Colton’s eyes as he takes in what’s underneath. I’ve worn my Agent Provocateur strapless bra and panty set in a rich, dark purple lace that hides little but highlights my figure perfectly in an overtly sexy way for a modest girl like me.

“Sweet Jesus, woman! The sight of you is enough to drive a sane man crazy,” he drawls as his eyes drag their way back up and down my body again. He rubs his thumb over his other fingers as if they are itching to touch me. I step toward him again, my body hyperaware of everything around us and between us. I reach out and lay my palms on his chest, his body quivering in anticipation.

I slide them down and undo the top two buttons of his jeans relieving some of the tension in the stressed seam of denim. My hands slide around the inside of his jeans and boxer briefs and grasp the solid muscles of his very fine ass. I skim my fingers back up and over his lower back while I trace my tongue down the trickle of hair below his belly button. I look up at him as I sink to my knees and very slowly undo the last three buttons of his jeans.

He stares at me beneath eyelids heavy with desire, his lips parted, and need palpable. I lower his jeans and boxer briefs, his iron length springing free. I run my fingers down the dark smattering of hair and grip the base of his shaft. I lean forward and Colton sucks in an audible breath as I circle my tongue lightly around the bell-shaped tip and then flutter it slowly down to the root and back up. My hand moves slowly up and down the veined length while my other hand comes up to cup his balls beneath, gently grazing them with my fingernails.