He huffs a laugh against my collarbone and moves to kiss me again, unclipping my bra one-handed. It falls away and his mouth finds my breast, his tongue circling my nipple, and I arch off the sofa with a quiet gasp.
My fingers thread through his hair as he breathes against my skin. His mouth moves to the other side and sucks gently.
I try to make a sound, to keep him going, to spur him on and show that I'm okay.
But it doesn't come out too easily and the nerves start to creep in.
His hands work my jeans down my hips anyway, and I lift my ass off the sofa to help him, even as an uneasypressurecoils low in my stomach.
He drags them off slowly, kissing every inch of skin he reveals. My belly. My hip bone. The soft inside of my thigh.
I swallow hard, shoving down the spiralling thoughts as my fingers tighten in his hair without meaning to.
He slides to his knees on the rug in front of the sofa, and the look he gives me — God. I almost flinch.
"Oh my God, Zoey. You're so fucking incredible."
His hands skim up the outside of my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the sides of my panties, and he looks up at me from between my legs with eyes that promise the world.
Let him give you the world.
His thumbs hook deeper, dragging the lace down just an inch, and he leans in and presses his mouth to the inside of my thigh, breathing me in like I'm something he's been starving for.
"Christ, baby." His voice has gone rough, husky as hell. "You smell so fucking sweet. Like sugar. Likemine."
He kisses higher. Slower. His lips brush the crease of my hip and I feel his exhale shudder warm against me.
"I'm going to eat this pretty pussy, Zoey. I mean it. I'm going to take my goddamn time with you, and when I'm done I'm going to start over, because I have wanted my mouth on you forever."
His tongue traces a slow line along the edge of my panties, and thank Christ, my hips jerk up off the sofa of their own accord.
"That's it, sweetheart." A low, dirty laugh against my skin. "Give it to me. I've got nowhere else to be. Not one single place in the world but right here, on my knees, between your legs."
And I want to.
God,I want to.
But something in me, some last little wire that hasn't been cut yet, tightens.
I grab his shoulders and tug him up.
"Just… come here."
He freezes for half a second and looks up. I watch him read my face, but he doesn't push or make a fuss.
Colt Lane never makes a fuss.
He rises up over me, kisses the corner of my mouth, then my lips, soft and full. My hands are working at his belt, maybe to distract him, or perhaps it's to distract myself.
His belt buckle clinks as I shove his jeans down his hips. He's already hard. So hard the head of him is wet against my palm when I wrap my hand around him.
Colt's forehead drops to my shoulder with a hiss.
"Fuck,Zoey—" I stroke him, slow. Feeling my confidence finally start to grow now the focus is on him, not me. "If you keep going… I'm not going to last."
I laugh, breathless. He laughs too, half-strangled, and then his hand is on mine, stilling me.
"Let me get a condom, baby."
