K. Bromberg - Fueled

All of the anticipation, flirting, highs, and lows from the night intensify the mix of sensations that splinter through me. Colton brings a hand up to cup my neck with one hand, his thumb resting just under my chin as my eyes flutter open. The simple brush of his thumb there is like adding gasoline to a roaring fire. My body tenses again as another ripple of pleasure pulses through me, all the while his gaze on mine.

Colton’s eyes flicker and flame with lust as he watches me regain some semblance of equilibrium from the earth he just helped to move beneath my feet. Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, Colton’s control snaps, and he pushes me back on to his jacket on the cool, polished metal of his hood. He grabs my hips, pushing my dress up so I am clothed from the waist up and bare from the waist down, except for garters and stockings. He lifts my hips up to meet the height of his so that just my shoulders and neck are resting on the cool silk of his jacket.

His eyes roam over my bared flesh. “Sweet Christ, woman,” his voice husky with desire murmurs as I close my eyes to revel in the need he’s about to fill because even though I’ve come, my body is aching so desperately to have him in me, filling me, and stretching me to sublime satisfaction. “Open your eyes, Rylee,” he commands as he places his steely head at my entrance. I gasp at the feeling, needing more. Always needing more and never being able to get enough of him. “I want to watch you while I take you. I want to see those eyes of yours turn hazy with desire.”

My eyes flash open to lock on his. My mouth goes dry from the absolute lust reflected in them. In this moment, the calm before the storm, I am irrevocably his.

I cry out in unison with his guttural groan as he enters me in one slick thrust, holding himself deep as he grinds his hips against my pelvis. The heels of my shoes dig into his backside as I tense at his invasion, my slick channel clenching onto him with every swivel of his hips. “Oh, Rylee.” He grunts, his head thrown back, lips parted, and face pulled tight with pleasure.

He starts moving now. Really moving. Fitting himself to me—in me—so that each drive devastates my senses. All I can do is absorb the impossible sensations he draws out of me with each thrust, ride out the blistering onslaught with him.

The jacket beneath me serves as a slide of sorts. With each drive I glide back and up the hood, only to be pulled back onto him to start the delicious descent and thrust back up all over again. The motion causes a myriad of overwhelming sensations that only serves to coax my orgasm to come faster. Harder. Quicker.

My muscles clench around him as I lift my head to watch our union. To see my arousal coating him as he withdraws from me before plunging back in. And the sight of what I do to him, of what he does to me, is unbelievably hot. “Colton,” I moan in a stilted breath as one of his fingertips grazes over my clit. My body shudders from his touch.

“You. Are. Mine. Rylee,” he growls between thrusts. “Tell. Me. Tell me you’re mine, Rylee,” he demands.

“Colton.” I gasp as my body is pulled under the pleasure swamping me. His fingers dig into my hips as his muscles tense up and I’m able to resurface momentarily. “Yes. Yours. Colton.” I pant between thrusts. “I’m. Yours!” I shout as I drown in the liquid heat of ecstasy the same time he climaxes with a hard groan, my name spilling from his lips.

Several moments have passed but our chests are still heaving for air. Our bodies are still pulsing with the adrenaline from our union. I open my eyes first. Colton is still gripping my hips, his cock still within me, but completely clothed otherwise. He stands before me, so tall, so imposing. It’s no wonder he dominates both my thoughts and my heart. My everything.

My whole world.

His eyes flutter open slowly, looking down at me through heavy lids, a Cheshire cat grin lazily spreading across his lips. He exhales a sated sigh, and we both wince as he withdraws before slowly lowering my legs. He grabs my arms to help me up before the jacket beneath me slides me off of the too low hood of the car. My dress makes an odd sound against the immaculate paint as he pulls me up, and I gasp aloud. In my desperate need to have Colton, the thought never crossed my mind that I might scratch—or even worse, dent—the car. A car that probably costs more than I make in several years.

“What is it, Rylee?” he asks, looking over his shoulder thinking someone has just been voyeur to our escapade, and then looking back at me after seeing no one.

“Your car… Sex. ” I cringe but at the same time feel ridiculous calling the car that name. “I hope I didn’t scratch it.”

Colton angles his head and looks at me as if I’m crazy before he throws his head back, a full bodied laugh flowing from his mouth. He tucks himself back inside his slacks and zips them up. “Relax, baby, it’s just a car.”

“But—but it’s worth a small fortune and—”

“And it can be fixed or replaced if damaged.” He leans in and catches my mouth in a dizzying kiss and then pulls back with a smirk. “Then again, if it’s damaged, I may just have to keep it just like it is as a reminder...” He lifts his eyebrows at me as he straightens his vest before reaching up to straighten his bow tie.

“A souvenir of sorts,” I muse, smoothing my dress down over my hips.

He cocks his head and looks at the car over my shoulder before looking back at me. “That’s one helluva souvenir, sweetheart.” He whistles between his teeth, a lascivious smirk on his handsome face. “And now her name has a whole new meaning to me.”

“Yes, it does.” I smile shyly in return as he pulls me into him and tightens his arms around me. He looks at me, that naughty smirk I can’t resist lighting up his features and those intense eyes filled with so much emotion. He leans down and brushes a soft kiss on my lips—the kind that is nothing more than lips on lips—that is so soft, so packed full of meaning, it causes my whole body to ache in the sweetest way.

Colton pulls back and places his jacket back over my shoulders before holding his hand out to me. “Come. We should get back or people will be wondering what we’ve been doing.” I snort loudly in the most unladylike way. As if the flush in my cheeks and glimmer in my eye won’t be a dead giveaway. He squeezes my hand as we walk toward the elevator, my head still reeling from the intensity and thrill of what just happened. Colton pulls me closer into his side, a laugh falling from his mouth. “ What?”

“A car experience,” he says looking at me and raising his eyebrows.

It most definitely was . “Nope. Not even close,” I tease him back at his creative yet hopeless attempt.

By some stroke of luck, we slip back into the function a moment after dinner service is announced. Colton guides me to our assigned table just as the other patrons are sitting down. He pulls out my chair for me and removes his jacket from my shoulders, placing it on the back of the chair. I catch the libidinous smirk on his face as he shakes his head at me before leaning in and whispering, “Homerun.” I can’t contain the laugh that bubbles up at the thought.

During dinner I watch Colton interact with the other guests at the table, championing his various causes at the same time answering questions about his upcoming race. The older women at the table are charmed by him, and the men are envious of his good looks and bucket list lifestyle.

He’s such a mix of contradictions. Emotionally closed off and isolated, but at the same time so open and giving in regards to the causes he cares about. He’s arrogant and overly confident, and yet has a quiet understated vulnerability that I’m getting sneak peeks of when he doesn’t close himself off. He can hobnob with the extremely wealthy in this room and also understand a traumatized seven year old boy and his needs. He’s brash and aggressive, yet compassionate and considerate. And my God can the man infuriate me one moment and then make me weak in the knees the next.