by N. K. Smith
“You feel so good,” I whisper to her.
She kisses me with such passion I’m not quite sure what to do with all of the emotion it brings up, but when she finishes, she bites down ever so deliciously on my lower lip, then lifts her hips up and slams down on me hard.
From then on out, I’m done for.
Chapter 16
Cole
We’ve been up for too long. Our conversations turn silly. After innumerable orgasms, he carried me up to my bedroom. We cleaned ourselves up, then he went back down to fix us food. Now we lie naked together on the bed, and I can’t keep my eyes off him.
A part of me is yelling, kicking, screaming, and warning me away from getting involved again. I’m shutting that piece up though. It’s the same little bit of me that has refused to let anyone else back in. That doesn’t serve me well any more, if it ever did.
One thing being tucked away in Scotland has done for me is solidify the love I hold for myself, but it’s also given me a great perspective. I want to share this love with someone. More than that, I want to share it with Devon. He’s fun, he’s kind, and he pushes me just enough without sending me over the edge.
Plus, he is hot.
The way his neck gently curves into his shoulders, and the way his shoulders slope perfectly into his arms is so sexy. That mole I so love on his collarbone is driving me crazy. He isn’t as muscled as he was when we were filming Tortured Desires, but his skin is pulled taut over the wiry flesh.
I watch as Devon takes a drink of water. The glass against his pale pink lips, the knob on his throat moving up, then down as he swallows, the tongue that does such wonderful things to me sweeping over his bottom lip to grab the runaway drop of liquid.
Maybe I’m a fool to let this happen again, but maybe I was a fool not to fight for it in the first place.
“What?” he asks when he finally notices me staring.
I shake my head, but keep my eyes on him. Suddenly I have no words. It’s as if my throat swells up. I won’t cry. I won’t be that girly-girl whose emotions go crazy after sex. But when I can finally speak, I simply say, “I appreciate you.”
He laughs, but notices I’m serious, so he scoots over to me, hand on my hip, eyes staring into mine. “You’re so formal sometimes. You’re special to me, too.”
“Everything about you makes me happy.”
Devon leans in and kisses me. He pulls back and whispers, “I love everything about you, and this time around, I swear I won’t take you for granted.”
“Taking other people for granted is human nature. I’m sure I’ll take you for granted once or twice, but we should promise to always try to connect before we—”
“Deal,” he says before kissing me again.
His hand runs up and down the dip of my body between my hip and my breasts as I lie on my side. I shiver and he pulls me closer. I can feel the hardening length of his cock against my inner thigh, so I stiffen my body to press into him.
As tired as I am, I want to make love with him at least once more before falling asleep. Everything seems so bright and vibrant tonight, like I’m truly experiencing him for the first time. Devon moves his mouth to my neck, and his kisses there make the bottoms of my feet tingle.
I take a deep breath and savor the smell of him as I grip his waist. Carefully, he nudges me onto my back, then trails his mouth from my neck to my breasts. Devon gives both nipples attention, and when he moves from one to the other, they harden as the cool air sweeps over the wet flesh.
My nails scratch light paths through his hair, and my eyes slip close as he licks between my breasts and down my abdomen. He dips his tongue into my navel and my flesh rises. My legs fall open as he begins to nip and suck on my thighs. I can feel myself grow wet in anticipation.
Even though I’ve had this done many times, even though it’s something he loves to do, I can’t help but gasp when he puts his mouth over my clitoris. He’s so gentle with it; just the tip of his tongue touches the tip of my clit. Then, he swirls it around the nerves, and after that, it’s a heavy pressed flat tongue and a long lick.
Chills run through me, and I fight the urge to clamp my legs around his head. I bury my hands in his hair once more, encouraging him to continue.
As his tongue laps at me, his hands run up my torso to my breasts, and he gives them a squeeze before tweaking my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I rock my hips against the rhythm of his tongue, and he pauses to simply suckle the little button.
He pulls a hand back down my body, tucks it under me. One finger runs the length of my pussy, once, twice, three times before he slowly, too slowly, pushes it into me. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, but he pumps it in and out of me, adding another finger until I can no longer contain myself and let out a choking wail and push my pussy up into his face, then down onto his fingers.
I moan, then say, “God, you’re so good.” It’s like I can feel his smile at my words.
He laps and sucks and pistons his fingers into me faster. My hips move of their own accord, and together Devon and I produce an orgasm so great the whole room grows dark until I focus on breathing. Oxygen floods my brain, and when I look down at him, his eyes are on me.
Lifting his head, he says, “I love watching you come.” He still moves his fingers inside of me, curling them up to press against my G-spot.
I roll onto my side, careful to lift my leg over his head. My intention is to get onto my hands and knees and provide the same pleasure he just gave me, but as soon as my ass is in the air, his tongue is between my lips again, and I am powerless to do anything else but enjoy it.
His two hands are splayed over the tight flesh of my ass, and he spreads me open. It allows him to burrow his face deeper. Devon’s tongue probes the opening of my vagina, then moves down lower to lap, then back up. The movement of his tongue in and out of me forces his chin to massage my clit. He builds the pressure from the outside, but somehow it matches the pressure within, and just when I think I can take no more—my flesh is too sensitive to be touched—I come against him.
I push against his face; his hands grab my hips to steady me, and as I pulsate through my orgasm, his hands slide up the small of my back. Again, chills run through me until I feel the head of his cock nudge past my labia. Slowly, so slowly, he enters me from behind. His hands never stop running tracks up and down my back.
When his hips are flush to my ass, the chills are taken from me and replaced with waves of heat. It starts at the crown of my head and the soles of my feet and comes together with a satisfying crash somewhere deep in my belly.
A whimper escapes me when Devon pulls his hips back with leisure, then a shout as his hands curl around my shoulders, and he pulls me back hard against his thrust. He does this again. And then again until I’m begging for one or the other, fast or slow.
But then Devon stops, drapes his body on top of mine, slides his hands down over my belly and starts rubbing soft circles over my clitoris. The rhythm, the pressure, the tempo, it’s perfect. It’s all perfect. Just like us. We’re perfect.
The manipulation of my body by a man who knows it well feels so good. I start rolling my hips back against him, working his beautiful cock around inside of me. I can tell it’s incredible for him, too, by how quick his breaths have become; how fast his fingers move.
But then he pulls away completely. “Not yet.”
With a gentle push on my ass, he tells me he wants me to turn around. When I’m facing him on my knees, I see his face, messy with my orgasm. Those eyes twinkle at me. I wonder, not for the first time, how I survived without them.
Devon places his hands on the tops of my thighs, then leans in for a kiss.
I taste myself on him and my desire multiplies. Although my feelings for him go deeper than lust, the fact he is the giver of such wonderful orgasms washes over me. As he cups my breasts, running his thumbs over the nipples, I’m not sure I can take much more without exploding. “I want you, Devon.”
He
kisses my left collar bone.
“I need you.”
He kisses my right collar bone.
“I trust you.”
With those three spoken words, Devon brings me into his arms, and I sink down onto him. We cling to each other, clutching, grasping, holding, gripping, taking, giving, begging, demanding, and worshiping this thing between us.
There isn’t a millimeter between us, we are flesh on flesh, soul on soul, one, and I never want it to change. My climax comes crashing over me in a multitude of waves. I am paralyzed to do anything but experience it while he holds me, coaxes me through it, draws it out, and whispers the most delicious words into my ear.
When mine is over and his begins, I still his flow of inarticulate sounds with my mouth, pouring into the kiss, pouring into him, all the emotion I can no longer contain.
We collapse onto the bed in an indefinable mass of satisfaction. Before I fall asleep, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.
Devon brushes back my hair, kisses my forehead then says, “You are not the beer of my life. You are so much more than beer. You are the air that I breathe, the blood in my veins, and the water that quenches my thirst.”
Chapter 17
Devon
“It’s going to be all right.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
“I know. Jesse says the same thing, but he’s an eternal optimist, so I try not to pay attention.” Cole straightens her skirt again. She looks up at me, and I motion to her chest. Cole pulls up the front of it to show less cleavage. “Your fault.”
I smile. “I know. What can I say? You look really hot in that dress.”
“Apparently, you think I look hot out of this dress, too.”
“True.”
The limo slows down as we enter the queue. It’s been months since I’ve attended any kind of Hollywood event like this. The whole Liliana thing has blown over. I hear she isn’t even with Nick anymore. Someone else with a little more power has taken her under his wing.
Not that it matters. For seven months, it has just been Collette and me. When she filmed her movie, I received word that I got the role for mine. When I filmed mine, she started writing a screenplay for her next project. It’s a perfect set up because we never have to be far from each other, and honestly, the cloak and dagger aspects of our relationship haven’t been as horrible as it was the first go around.
But all of it is about to change.
Cole has a compact mirror up to her face as she slides a perfectly manicured finger across the very bottom of her lip to keep her lipstick line perfect.
“You look great,” I tell her.
“I just want to get this over with.”
“It’ll be easy.” I hope it to be the truth.
“We’ll be the talk of the town.”
“Town?” I laugh. “The world, but interest will wane and we’ll—”
“Please, you’re the hottest guy in Hollywood, and you know it. There will never be a time when people don’t care who you’re banging.”
“And you’re the hottest, most sought-after recluse in the industry. Everyone will want to know if we’re still shacking up after a few months.”
She snaps the compact closed, then sticks it in her satin handbag. “Then there will be breakup reports on all the gossip sites.”
“Pictures of your tight belly with the words, Baby Bump? underneath.” We both laugh.
“Will they, or won’t they marriage proposal.” Cole rolls her eyes.
“Oh, God, I hope they combine our names. We can be Devollette!”
“Or Collevon.”
I wrinkle my nose her suggestion. “On second thought, let’s discourage the name combo.”
The limo stops. The doors do nothing to insulate us from the noise of the crowd. “You ready?” I ask.
“Ready. You?”
I nod my head just as the door opens. I’m already partially blinded by the flashbulbs as soon as I step out, but thankfully I can’t hear anything but a dull roar. I turn, offer my hand to Collette, and watch as this incredibly gorgeous, glamorous creature steps out from the limo.
The smile she wears isn’t her fake one. It’s not the one she puts on for the masses. It’s the one she wears for me.
Together, we turn toward the crowd, hands and arms linked, and take measured, confident steps down the red carpet. The sea of flashes grows bigger and brighter, but just as my stomach starts to knot, Cole gives my arm a squeeze, and I remember that tonight, pictures mean only one thing: We are out. We are officially together now.
She is mine and I am hers, and we never have to hide again.
Also by N.K. Smith
Old Wounds
Sent to live with her estranged father, troubled Sophia Young is running from her painful past. She meets a kindred spirit in Elliott Dalton, the shy, withdrawn boy who somehow wriggles into her heart. Sophie has a choice to make—open up to Elliott and have a chance at happiness or continue to her downward spiral alone.
Download a sample of this book at The Writer’s Coffee Shop.
Little Battles
Elliott Dalton has given Sophia Young a hope that both terrifies and promises redemption. For years, has kept his emotions under tight control, but Sophie’s changing it all. He’s determined to protect her from her past at all costs. Will it drive him to the breaking point?
Download a sample of this book at The Writer’s Coffee Shop.
Weight of the World
The hardest part about learning to love is vulnerability. Sophie has taken great steps to let Elliott in, but is he ready to do the same? As the couple learns to trust and reveal more about themselves every day, they expose themselves to the dangers of the heart. Will the love they share be enough or will the past continue to hold them hostage?
Download a sample of this book at The Writer’s Coffee Shop.
Where All Things Will Grow
As Elliott and Sophie learn to depend on each other, their burdens become easier to bear and the path becomes clearer. But when unexpected challenges leave them questioning everything, will they be able to stand alone in order to stand together?
Download a sample of this book at The Writer’s Coffee Shop.
My Only
Shy, awkward Adam is resigned to sit on the sidelines of life, overshadowed by his outgoing and popular twin brother, Aaron. But when a free spirited new girl with a troubled past moves in across the street, Adam’s eyes are opened to a new world of possibilities. But why would anyone choose him when a better version exists? It seems Adam has a lot to learn about love... and life.
Download a sample of this book at The Writer’s Coffee Shop.
Ghosts of Our Pasts
As a successful owner of a small gourmet food store in SoHo, Emily Martin’s fierce independence is a brutal lesson learned as the result of a tragic loss in her youth. Engaged to marry the love of his life and on the cusp of a brilliant financial career, Will Darcy lost everything in a horrifying act of violence that still ripples through his life almost ten years later. Brought together by a business venture, can Emily and Will’s shared tragedy create an unbreakable bond, or will the atrophied emotions of the past keep them apart?
Download a sample of this book at The Writer’s Coffee Shop.
About the Author
Based in the American Midwest, N.K. Smith is a Technical Writer for a Fortune 100 company. The author of the Old Wounds Series, Ghosts of Our Pasts, and My Only, she finds time to write very early in the morning when everyone else is fast asleep.
An avid lover of history, art, music, books, and people, she is interested in telling stories that speak to the human condition.
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