Page 81 of Tortured Tones

“You have my consent to do anything you want to. Okay?”

“Same.” I fumbled with his belt, unzipped his pants, and lowered his trunks. Holy. Fuck! Air shot from my lungs. My insides clenched, skipped, and happy danced. I wrapped my palm around his long, thick cock and rubbed it up and down. “You better have more endurance using this than you do when running.”

“I guarantee it.” He chuckled, raspy and hot, then...he kissed me. Every time, he stole my breath.

He repositioned his hand, dipping it into the top of my panties. In masterful strokes, he slid through my wetness, rubbing and working my clit. I raised my leg, widened my knees, and curled my ankle around his calf. Two fingers entered me; his thumb tortured my clit. Oh, yeah.

His breaths grew shorter and heavier than before. “Fuck, you feel good.”

My knees weakened. As I circled my thumb over the tip of his cock and stroked him up and down, he thrust against my touch. He rubbed me harder, curling and pulsing his fingers inside of me. Fast. Slow. Deep. Oh yeah. I rocked against his onslaught. Our kisses turned into nothing but fiery breaths and hot pants. Like when we’d first exercised to outdo each other, our hands were desperate to see who could make the other one come first.

This time, he was winning.

As he pressed harder against my clit, I dug my fingers into his shoulders. “There.”

“Hmmm.” He rubbed and circled me. His fingers made me forget my own name...and where I was...and who I was. All the frustrations from the past few weeks of Cole testing me, pushing me, annoying me, and being so nice and kind and caring built higher, tightened more, coiled through me...then snapped. He took me over the edge. Fire shot through my veins, snaked up my spine, and shivered across my skin. Electric shocks jolted my core and shuddered through my entire body. I clutched the back of his short hair. “Oh, fuck. I needed that.”

My knees buckled, but he caught me. He smiled against my lips. “We’re not even close to done.”

“Prove it, drummer boy.”

Taking my hand, he drew me toward the bed. As he kissed my shoulder, he undid the low zip on my dress, eased the sleeves off my shoulders, and let it fall to the ground. It pooled in a pile of silky beads and sequins on the floor. His pants, trunks, and shirt, and my lingerie quickly joined it.

He kissed me, then licked his lips. “Mmm . . . stay.”

Standing naked in the middle of my hotel room, I swayed on my feet. Cole dashed over to the door, swiped his jacket off the carpet, and pulled out his card wallet. He ripped out a condom. “You still sure about this?”

I stole a glance at his huge erection. Am I? “Yeah. I am. You?”

He came over, slid one arm around my waist, and cupped my cheek with his other hand. “I hate how much I want you.”

I curled my arms around his shoulders. “I hate that I want you too.”

As we crawled onto the bed, his electric eyes bored into me. Something about them threatened to take a blowtorch to the lock on my heart...but no. I wasn’t going to lose my head or heart to Cole. This was just sex. Nothing more. We both needed to get this out of our system. Move on.

Kissing me, he pushed me down onto the mattress. Playful touches, small smiles, and silly laughs mingled with our heated gazes and hot kisses. Fingertips tickled and traced arms and hips. Hands massaged and caressed skin, hair, and faces. Lips tasted and teased.

Cupping my breast, he massaged it gently, then swiped his thumb across my peaked nipple. Dipping his head, he took it into his mouth. Oh, wow. I drove my fingers through his hair and cradled his head, savoring the tingles his licks sent through my system. Finally, I’d found a way to stop him talking. But wow, his attentive detail and ability to make every cell in my body hum was uncanny. That mouth of his deserved an Academy Award—it was pure talent. But enough was enough. Tickling his ribs, I shoved him backward. I flung my leg over him, straddling his waist. Clutching his hands, I pinned them beside his head. “Are we going to fool around all night or get down to business?”

“Both.” He swept my loose hair off my face and tucked it behind my ear.

“We can’t. You need to get some rest, remember?”

“There is no chance of that happening while I’m in your bed.” He drew me forward and kissed me until I didn’t know which way was up or down. He tormented my sanity with his magnetic gaze and smooth talk.

But after flipping me back down onto the bed and making me come with his tongue, something in the air changed. My heart beat against his in a steady rhythm. Our kisses weren’t so rushed. My fingers dug into his flesh, wanting to hold him closer, tighter. Our frenzied, fun, and frantic pants morphed into slow and sensual intoxicating breaths. He slipped the condom on, drew my leg over his hip, and entered me—first the tip, then he worked his way in deeper and deeper. Holy geez. In a hot haze, we moved as one. He thrust; I rocked. My fingertips blazed as I circled them over his back and arms, stroked and clutched his hair, and caressed his face.

But the need for release burned like a wildfire inside me.

Rolling him onto his back, I straddled him again. I took him in deep and rode him hard. His eyes fluttered shut as I lost myself in a blissful beat. His moans urged me on. My core clenched around his throbbing cock, driving him in deeper to hit me in that sweet spot. So. Damn. Good.

His jaw locked. “You keep doing that, I’m gonna blow.”

“Me too.”

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth.

The veins on his neck strained.

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