Page 23 of Wild Night

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His concern drifted away when her lips softened against his, and she started kissing him back.

Kissing without the Hagrid beard was much better.

He pressed her lips apart, touching her tongue with his. She tasted like orange juice and vodka. It was tangy and sweet and nice.

She lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck. Like him, she’d stripped off most of her clothing before crawling into bed. He liked her lack of shyness. She’d come to his bed knowing what she wanted. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest, and he couldn’t resist touching them.

They broke the kiss briefly as he grasped one of her breasts in his hand. She started to speak, but he placed his finger against her lips.


It was all he said, but he felt her lips tip up in a smile, and then she fell silent. The game they’d begun downstairs was still in effect.

He kissed her again, squeezing her breast until she gasped, arching her back, encouraging him to do it again.

Colm took her nipple between his fingers and lightly pinched the tight nub, loving the tiny moan of pleasure his touch provoked. She was so damn responsive and hot. He repeated the same on her other breast as she ran her hands through his hair, closing her fists and tugging, pulling his head back so that she could lift her head and…

His cock twitched, then thickened, as she bit his jaw. She seriously sank her teeth in.

It hurt, but damn if he didn’t fucking love it.

So it’s like that.

She wanted something rougher, something wilder.

Jesus. He hadn’t felt like he and Brooke were really a matched set until that moment.

They’d made out a few times, indulged in some pretty heavy petting. Regardless of that, it had all been pretty…well…run-of-the-mill, lackluster.

This felt different, exciting. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or if they’d turned some sort of corner, but he wasn’t going to question it.

He was all in.

He lowered his head to her shoulder and bit her in return. Her hips thrust upwards, toward him in response, and it was all he could do not to strip off her panties and his boxers and give in to her upspoken request.

He took a deep breath and reined it in, wanting to draw this out.

Her breathing grew heavier, more labored, when he ran his hand along her side, enjoying her slight shiver. Then he shifted his face lower and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

He groaned as her fingers pulled his hair even harder, his scalp burning as she held him to her. He increased the suction on her nipple, giving her the same pleasure laced with pain. She writhed beneath him, not to escape but as if she simply couldn’t restrain herself.

He kept sucking, nipping, licking, loving her little squeaks and moans. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on words in the bedroom, until now, when they’d tacitly agreed to take talking off the table.

Instead of telling him what he was doing to her, she was showing him through body language and with those adorable sighs.

He had no idea how long he played with her breasts. Time seemed to have no meaning tonight, and Colm was in no hurry to rush to the next part.

The same couldn’t be said for Brooke, who was using her grip on his hair now in an attempt to pull him back over her. He sensed her unspoken pleas but responded with only a shake of the head. He wasn’t finished playing with her. Not by a long shot.

He’d joked around with Kelli the other night about preferring his swinging single lifestyle, but in truth, he hadn’t been with a woman in over eight months. He wasn’t sure what to chalk that dry spell up to, other than long work hours and a lack of interest in any of the women he’d dated. Brooke had lasted the longest, mainly because she didn’t put any demands on him or want more than he did. If they were both free, they went out. If not, no harm, no foul.

Grasping her wrists, he pulled her hands away from his hair, drawing them down to the pillow beneath her head. He pressed them firmly, telling her without words that he wanted her to leave them there. When he released her, he felt her lift them once more, her fingers only barely grazing his cheeks before he recaptured and returned them to the spot he wanted them, his grip tighter, more forceful.

When he released her this time, she didn’t move her hands.

God, he wished he’d gone back for his phone or had thought to grab one of the candles. He longed to see her, wanted to see her body flush with arousal, wanted to see her hands resting there, bound by nothing more than his will, the picture of surrender.

Next time he had her in his bed, they were going to truly indulge in bondage. He would tie her to his headboard and play with her for hours on end.

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