Driven

by K. Bromberg

  I can feel Colton’s struggle to control his need, his body taut beneath my hands, his impressive erection pressing into my belly. He continues his tender and unrelenting assault on my senses by concentrating solely on my mouth. Seducing my lips. His breath is mine. His action is my reaction.

  He stops abruptly, placing his two hands on the wall beside my shoulders and braces himself, letting his forehead drop to my shoulder so that his nose and mouth buried in the nape of my neck. I feel his chest heaving for air like mine is, and for some odd reason I’m relieved that he appears to be as affected by our entwinement as I am. I’m a little confused at his actions, but I take the moment to allow him to collect himself while I settle my racing heart amidst our rasping breaths. I subconsciously squeeze my knees together to try and quiet the relentless pressure at the delta between by thighs.

  I can feel the warmth of his breath as he pants against my neck, struggling for control. “Sweet Jesus, Rylee,” he murmurs as he shakes his head, rolling it on my shoulder, before scattering innocent kisses along my collarbone. “We need to get out of here before you unman me right here in the hallway.”

  He raises his head to look at me as I still from his words. There is no doubt that this is what I want. That he is whom I want. But I can’t deny the fact that I’m nervous—anxious—afraid I’ll disappoint him with my more than lack of experience in this department.

  “Come.” He doesn’t give me time to speak before he grabs my hand, wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him, and walks us deeper into the corridor. “I have a room here for the night.” His strong arm helps support me, leading me toward my apple in the Garden on Eden.

  I follow obediently, trying to quiet the doubt and noise in my mind, for it is actively chattering away now that his mouth is not on mine, blunting my ability to reason. We quickly make it to an elevator at the end of the hallway and within seconds we are stepping in. Colton pulls a key card out of his pocket and inserts it into the panel, effectively unlocking the top floor. The penthouse.

  He steps back toward me as the elevator lifts and places a hand on the small of my back. The silence between us is audible and only intensifies the butterflies that are churning in my stomach. “Why the change?” Colton asks as he tugs on my straightened hair, trying to ease my mounting anxiety.

  “Just trying to fit the mold,” I quip reflexively, referring to the numerous pictures on the Internet of him with straight haired women. His brow furrows at my comment, trying to figure out its meaning when I offer up, “Sometimes change is good.”

  He uses his hand on my back to turn me toward him, extending his other arm clasp with it on my lower back. He angles his head down so that we are eye to eye. “I like your curls,” he says softly, my ego preening from the compliment. “They suit you.” Now that he has me positioned, he raises a hand up to wipe an errant strand of hair off my face. He then places his fingers on the side of my jaw and holds me there, his eyes searching mine. “You have one chance to walk away,” he warns me as the elevator alerts us we’re at the destined floor. The husky tone in his voice wreaking havoc on my willpower.

  My heart beats erratically at his words. I shake my head in an unconvincing acceptance for I can’t find the words to speak to him.

  He ignores the opening elevator door behind him and continues to look intently into my eyes. “I won’t be able to walk away, Rylee,” he says as he scrunches up his eyes as if the admission is painful. He blows out a loud breath, releasing me and running his fingers through his hair. He turns his back to me, reaches out, and stabs the door open button, bracing his hands against the elevator wall. His broad shoulders fill the small space. His head hangs down as he mulls over his next words. “I want to take my time with you, Rylee. I want to build you up nice and slow and sweet like you need. Push you to crash over that edge. And then I want to fuck you the way I need to. Fast and hard until you’re screaming my name. The way I’ve wanted to since you fell out of that storage closet and into my life.”

  I have to bite my lower lip to stifle the immediate groan I feel at the dark promise of his words. I fight the need to sag against the wall for some kind of relief from the tension on my core.

  “Once we leave this elevator, I don’t think I’ll have enough control to stop … to pull away from you, Rylee. I. Can’t. Resist. You.” His voice is pained, quiet, and chalked full of conviction. He turns back to me, his face swarming with emotions. His eyes reflecting a man tinkering on the edge of losing control. “Decide, Rylee. Yes. Or. No.”

  CHAPTER 12

  I look up at him through my lashes, my bottom lip between my teeth, and nod in consent. When he just continues to look at me, I find my voice and try to push the nerves out of it. “Yes, Colton.”

  His mouth crushes down on mine instantly, his hunger palpable, as he pulls me out of the elevator in a clumsy movement toward the door of the penthouse. I giggle freely as he tries to insert the key in the door while trying to keep his lips on mine. He finally gets the key in and the door opens as we continue our ungraceful entrance, mouths never leaving each other’s. He kicks the door shut and presses me up against it, his hands sandwiched between the door and my butt. His fingers grip my flesh fervently, pressing me into his muscular frame.

  I lose myself in him. In his touch, his heat, his quiet words of praise as he rains kisses over my lips and neck and the bare skin in the deep V of my dress. I turn myself over to the moment and what it is to feel again. To want again.

  I clumsily try to unbutton his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine but hindered by his constantly moving arms that are running fervently every any inch of bare skin his fingers can touch. His lips find my spot just under my jaw line, and I forget the buttons and fist my hands in his shirt as sensation overwhelms me. Consumes me. A strangled cry escapes my mouth, little explosions detonating from my neck down into the pit of my belly.

  Colton presses his hands to my backside again, and I wrap my legs around his hips at the same time he lifts me up. One hand supports my back while the other dips beneath the fabric of my dress to palm my breast. I bow into him as his thumb and forefinger rub my pebbled nipple. The electric shock of his touch spreads heat to my sex and wildfire to my senses.

  Colton starts to move while holding me, his lips feasting on the ever-sensitive line of my shoulder, his erection pressing between my thighs. With every step he takes, he rubs against me, creating a glorious friction against my clit. I press into him, a ball of tension building, surmounting, and edging toward my need for release.

  We enter the bedroom of the suite, and despite the overabundance of sensations surging through me, I’m still nervous. He stops at the edge of the bed and I lower my legs, dropping my feet to the floor. I resume my attempt to free him of his shirt and this time I’m successful. He lets go of me, momentarily stepping back as he slips his arms out of his shirt and lets it fall to the floor.

  I get my first glimpse of Colton’s naked torso, and he is utterly magnificent. His golden skin gloves over the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. His strong shoulders taper down to a narrowed waist, which in turn give way to that sexy V that sinks below where his slacks hang. On his left flank is a tattoo of some sort but I am unable to make out what it is. He has a slight sprinkling of hair on his chest and then below his belly button amidst tightened abs, he has a sexy little trail of hair that disappears beneath his waistband. If my hormones weren’t raging already from his adept hands and mouth, the sight of him alone would have sent my system into overdrive.

  I drag my gaze back up his torso and meet his eyes. He looks back at me, eyes drugged with desire, enflamed with lust. A sexy grin spreads across his mouth as he toes off his shoes and removes his socks before approaching me again. He raises his hands to my face and frames it, his mouth on mine in a slow, tormenting kiss that has me pressing into him. His hands slide from my face, down my shoulders, and make the slow descent down my torso until fabric gives way to the bare skin of my thighs.

/>   “God, Rylee, I want to feel your skin on mine,” His fingers play with the hem of my dress momentarily before grabbing it and slowly lifting it. “Feel your body beneath me.” His words are hypnotic. Inviting. “My cock buried in you,” he murmurs against my lips before he leans back a fraction, his eyes never leaving mine, to pull the dress over my head.

  I start to take my high heels off, but Colton reaches down to grab my hand before I can reach my shoe. “Uh-uh,” he tells me smiling lasciviously, “leave them on.”

  I suck in my breath, insecurities rearing their ugly head as I stand before him in a bra, a scrap of lace as an excuse for panties, and my stilettos. “I think—”

  “Sh-sh-sh,” he whispers against my lips. “Don’t think, Rylee. The time for thinking is over.” He steps us backwards, the back of my knees hitting the bed, and he slowly lays me down, his mouth still lacing me with kisses. “Just feel,” his husky voice demands of me. One of his hands cups the back of my neck while the other roams slowly down to the black lace of my bra and over my rib cage before starting the path back up again. A moan escapes my lips. I need his touch like I need my next breath right now.

  “Let me look at you,” he whispers, leaning back on his elbow. “God, you are beautiful.”

  I freeze at the words, wanting to hide the scars that mar my abdomen, wanting to twist away so that I’m not asked, not reminded right now in this moment. I do none of that though. Instead, I remind myself to breathe as his eyes wander down my body. I know the moment he sees them for shock flickers across his face before his eyes flash back to mine, concern etched in his brow.

  “Rylee? What—”

  “Ssshhhh,” I tell him before I reach out and grab his neck, yanking him to me in a demanding kiss that obliterates all sense of control. All questions before they can be asked. A carnal passion ignites within me as I take hold of him—kissing, caressing, digging fingernails into steeled skin. A feral growl comes from deep within him as his tongue skims a trail down my neck. He cups my breast, slipping the finger beneath the lace and pushing the cup below it. His mouth teases on its descent down before closing over the tight bud of my nipple.

  I cry out in ecstasy as he lathes my breast, sucking it into his hot, greedy mouth. His hand assaults my other breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger—blurring the fine line between pleasure and pain. His acute attention to my sensitive buds mainlines a fire to my sex. It clenches, throbs, and moistens, silently begging him for more to push me over the edge. I shift beneath him to try and ease the intense ache that is building, but the coils of craving are so strong my breath pants out erratically.

  I tangle my fingers in his hair as he moves from my chest, sucking, kissing, and nipping his way down my abdomen. I fist my hands in it and grate in a sharp breath of air as he deliberately lays a row of kisses along my worst scar. “So beautiful,” he repeats to me again as he continues his tormenting descent. He stills at the top of my panties and I can feel the smile form on his lips from his mouth pressed against my skin.

  He looks up at me, a mischievous grin lighting his face. “I hope you’re not overly fond of these.” I don’t even have a chance to respond before he rips the panties off of me. A low satisfied purr comes from the back of his throat as he trails a finger down the small strip of curls beneath the material. “I like this,” he growls at me, his finger tracing below the strip where I’m void of hair, “and I like this even more.”

  My breath catches as he slips a finger between my folds, sliding it slowly back and forth. “Oh God,” I groan as I grip my hands into the sheets of the bed, ecstasy detonating in sparks of white hot flashes behind my closed eyelids.

  Colton sucks in an audible breath as he slips a finger tantalizingly slowly into my passage. “Rylee,” he groans, the break in his voice as he says my name betraying his appearance of control. “Look how wet you are for me, baby. Feel how tight you grip me.” I arch my back, shoulders pressing into the mattress as his finger leisurely circles inside of me, grazing over that sweet spot deep along my front wall before deliberately withdrawing, only to start the whole exquisite process again.

  “The things I want to do to this tight little pussy of yours,” he murmurs as I feel his other hand part me again. His blunt words turn me on. Incite feelings I didn’t expect. I writhe beneath him as the cool air of the room hits my swollen folds. “Look at me, Rylee. Open your eyes so I can see you when my mouth takes you.”

  It’s takes everything I can to snap out of my pleasure induced coma and open my eyes. He looks up at me through hooded lids from between my thighs. “That’s it, baby,” he croons as his head drifts down until I feel the warm heat of his mouth as it captures my nerve laden nub at the same time he slips two fingers in me.

  I cry out, throwing my head back as a raging inferno blasts through my center—taking, possessing, building. “Look at me!” he growls again. I open my eyes, the eroticism of watching him watch me, as he pleasures me, is more than I’ve ever known.

  His tongue lathes lazily back and forth, over and around as his fingers continue their delicious internal massage. He withdraws and then pushes back in, his fingers leisurely rubbing my walls within. I buck my hips up against him, begging for more pressure as I tinker on the edge of losing my sanity.

  “Oh, Rylee, you are so responsive,” he praises, “so fucking sexy.” As he replaces the warmth of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, the tempo and friction of skin on skin is exactly what I need. He slides up my body as his fingers continue their mind-blowing torture on my sex, his lips kissing, nipping, and licking until he reaches my face. Making me want like I’ve never wanted before.

  “Let go, Rylee,” he demands with his erection pressing deliciously into my side. “Feel again, sweetheart,” he murmurs as my hands wrap around his shoulders, fingernails scoring his sweat-ridden skin. The ball of tension mounts, begging for release. I buck my hips wildly against him, his fingers increasing their tempo, rubbing, penetrating, driving me into a rapturous oblivion.

  “Come for me, Rylee,” he growls as I reach the edge and scream out in release as my orgasm explodes within me, crashes around me, and ripples through every nerve and sinew in my body. My muscles flex reactively, clamping down on his fingers within me, causing him to groan at the sensation. “That’s it baby, that’s it,” he croons as he helps me ride out the rippling waves of my climax.

  I feel the bed dip as he leaves it causing my eyes to fly open. He looks down at me, satisfaction on his face and desire in his eyes, as he slowly unbuckles his pants. “You are breathtaking,” he praises as I watch him, struggling to catch my panting breath. “I can’t figure out which is hotter, Rylee, watching you come or making you come.” His eyes sparkle with his libidinous thoughts. “I guess I’ll have to do it again to figure it out.” He flashes a wicked grin at me full of challenge. My muscles coil tightly at his words, and I’m startled that he has me so worked up that my body’s churning to come again. I bite my lip as he pulls his pants down with his boxer briefs, his impressive erection springing free.

  Holy shit!

  He smirks at me as if he can read my thoughts and crawls on the bed with his lean, firm thighs. He grabs one of my splayed feet by the heel of my shoe and laces a row of kisses up my calf, stopping at my knee to caress his fingers at the sensitive underside before continuing the dizzying ascent from his mouth up my thigh. He stops at my apex and kisses me lightly there, swirling his finger gently over my sex, tickling, taunting, testing. I grip my hand in his hair, “Colton,” I pant out, his slight touch on my sensitized flesh almost more that I can bear.

  He looks up at me as he plants another kiss on my strip of hair, “I just want to make sure that you’re ready, baby,” he replies, pulling a wet finger from my core. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  A dozen things flit through my mind as I watch him slip his finger into his mouth before flashing a devilish grin and humming in approval. He predatorily crawls the rest of the way up my body, his ey
es never leaving mine and covers my mouth with his, his hand palming my trussed up breasts, his cock pressing into the V of my thighs.

  Emotions swirl within me as the dizzying pleasure surges again. He parts my legs with his knees and pushes himself up off of me to sit back between my thighs. He leans over toward the edge of the bed and produces a foil packet. My mind buzzes for I’ve been so overcome with everything in the past week that I haven’t even thought about protection. And despite him not knowing about my inability to get pregnant, I am glad he has enough common sense to think of this.

  I prop myself up on my elbows as he tears the packet open and watch as he rolls the condom down his iron length. His eyes flash up to mine, desire, lust, and so much more swarming within them. “Tell me what you want, Rylee.”

  I stare at him until my eyes are drawn down to watch as he runs his fingers over my delta and gradually parts me. I suck in a breath in anticipation. “Tell me, Rylee,” he growls, “Tell me you want me to fuck you. I want to hear the words.”

  I bite my bottom lip, watching as he lays his length against my cleft. He stills, and I look up to meet his eyes. I can see him trying to rein in his control, the vein in his neck prominent as he stares at me, waiting for my words. “Fuck me, Colton,” I whisper as he slowly presses the blunt tip of his cock into my entrance. I tense at the thought of accepting him, at the sensation of his stretching my channel to its limits, at the slight pain from it telling me that I’m alive, that I’m here in this moment with this sublime man.

  “Oh God, Rylee,” he moans as he pulses slowly in and out, “You feel so good. So damn tight,” he hisses, rubbing his fingertips softly up and down my inner thighs. “I need you to relax for me, baby. Let me in, sweetheart.”

  I close my eyes momentarily as the stretching burn fades to a full feeling. He pushes further, slowly, deliberately, until his cock is sheathed completely root to tip by my velvet walls. He stays motionless, allowing my body to adjust to him as he watches me. I can see his jaw clench as he tries hard to hold onto his control, and it’s an invigorating feeling to know that I can push him over the edge.