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She lowers her fork to the plate, gaping at me. “Are you saying you want me? For more than sex?”
“And if I was?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” It’s only ten minutes until midnight, and boats now clog the river, everyone waiting for the big show. A sense of excitement spreads over the dining room as champagne is handed out to the guests in preparation for midnight.
She bites her lip, staring at me with an almost uncomfortable intensity. “Are you playing me? You don’t have to. We can leave tonight where it is.”
“That’s what you think of me?”
“It took me a long time to get over you. I guess I’m not looking forward to going through that again.”
“You liked me that much?”
“Colton, I might as well tell you I was in love with you. Completely crazy about you. But you were about as attainable as the moon.” She looks out the window toward that glowing orb, the light from it shining on her face, making her hair glow like fire. “And yeah, there were times when I thought that maybe we were connecting. So when you made it sound like a joke when you asked me out, laughing and everything, it broke my heart.”
I don’t know what’s come over me. I only know I can’t sit at this table with her for another moment before making sure she understands something. I stand, extending a hand, and she hesitates for only a moment before taking it and following me to the alcove where the restroom doors sit. It’s sheltered from the rest of the dining room, and I take advantage of that by pushing her up against the wall between the doors.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, looking in the direction we just came from. “Everyone will—”
“A handful of those people just watched you fuck downstairs. You think it matters?” My fingers wrap around her jaw, and I tilt her head up so our eyes meet. “Nothing about tonight has anything to do with kindness. I didn’t offer to spend time with you because I feel sorry for you or to make up for the way I hurt you. I didn’t even know I had.”
The temptation to kiss her is almost too strong to resist. “I’m not used to being sorry for what I’ve done,” I whisper, staring at her luscious lips. “But I am sorry I caused you pain. Truly, I am.”
“Thank you?” The fact that it’s a shaky little question makes me chuckle, but the sound dies in my throat as my body tunes into her nearness. She’s a drug, one that has me under its spell. Every short, hitching breath that thrusts her tits against my chest. Every slight whimper, like the one that squeezes its way from her throat when I tighten the pressure from my hand. It isn’t pain, no. It’s need, she’s needy, she’s needy for me. Who wouldn’t get off on that?
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!”
