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Who wouldn’t want to rain pleasure down on her until she begs them to stop?
That’s what’s on my mind as I run a hand down her body, taking her thigh and lifting it, draping it over my hip. Opening her so my fingers can delve into her sweetness. She’s wet again, and that’s no surprise—and she clutches my shoulders, eyes closing, breathing hard, fast, enveloping me in heat.
It’s not enough to touch her. I need to taste. I slowly lower myself, running my mouth over her tits and stomach, before working her dress up.
She seizes up, pushing ineffectually at my shoulders. “You can’t!”
That ends when I take her wrists and pry her hands away. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”
She’s lost by the time my mouth covers her pussy, my ready tongue working its way into her slit, the scent, and taste of her enough to make me forget there are dozens of people only feet from where I’m eating her with a hunger that goes far beyond anything physical. I need this woman. I need her in my world. I need her to become my world.
And I need to become hers.
It doesn’t take long before her protestations turn to something else, something deep and primal, her fingers tangling in my hair, and she grinds her hips, humping my face the way I told her she would. She fights against the sounds of pleasure stirring deep in her, settling only for soft whimpers that I pull from her with every lap of my tongue, with every flick against her clit.
I could die doing this and do it without regret. This is what I was made for. She is who I was made for. Pleasing her, fucking her, introducing her to pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.
“Oh… oh, yes…” Her nails dig into my scalp as she climbs, climbs, shivering and grinding and losing herself entirely, forgetting right and wrong in favor of sensation. Sweet, musky nectar flows from her like honey from the comb, and I catch it, drinking it down, savoring every drop. Knowing I’m lucky enough to be the man to taste her.
The last man who ever will.
I’m only dimly aware of the countdown starting in the dining room. “Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!”
“Fuck, Colton!” Her hips jerk wildly, her hands holding my head in place as she races toward release, grinding in desperation. I take her clit between my lips and suck, flicking with the tip of my tongue, racing against time. I’m going to make her come at the stroke of midnight. She’s never going to forget this.
“Fourteen! Thirteen!” I add one, then two fingers, driving them deep inside her. She bears down on them, hips jerking, so wet it coats my chin when I can’t catch it fast enough.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
“My god!” She tenses up, her voice a high-pitched squeak. “I’m going to come!”
“Three! Two! One!”
“Fuck! Yes!” She pulls my head in just once more before a fresh flood of juice pours from her twitching hole, the muscles rippling around my fingers, her clit pulsing.
Cheers and shouts erupt all around us, but I ignore them in favor of standing, wrapping my arms around her, and holding her against me. She’s weak, shaking, and panting for breath. Red, gold, and green lights flash across her face as the fireworks begin.
“Happy New Year,” I murmur, my lips close to her ear. She smiles—lazy, a little dazed—and tilts her head back when I lean in for a kiss, eyes closing. Ready for me.
This goddess. My heart aches at the sight of her perfect beauty, the trust radiating from her. It’s humbling knowing she trusts me this way.
All of that goes into the kiss I press against her lips, my arms tightening around her warm, willing body. I’m holding the entire world here and now, parting her lips with my tongue, my heart soaring when she wraps her arms around my neck and holds me tight. There’s nothing in the world but the two of us.
And there never will be.
HARPER
Idon’t think I’ve ever been this happily exhausted in my whole life.
It’s a whole new world now. I’m a different person than I was when I walked out of this hotel. The girl climbing out of the limo now, her hand in Colton’s much larger one is worlds away from the wide-eyed girl who never rode in a limo before tonight. It’s only been a matter of hours—it’s barely two in the morning—but it may as well have been years between then and now.
I lean against Colton as we cross the lobby, quieter than before but not completely dead. We’re not the only people stumbling in after hours of partying. “Is it wrong to wonder if people know?”
He doesn’t need to ask what I mean. “Unless they were there, there’s no way—though you do look thoroughly fucked.”
“Seriously?” I ask, shocked.
“You think they haven’t seen anything like that before? Come on.” He laughs gently, pulling me in a little closer, his arm around my waist. I’ve never felt so safe and protected.
