Page 8 of Say Yes

My hands are practically ripping the hair right off of his head, my heels digging into his ass. He drops his forehead to my shoulder and groans. “Bed,” he growls. He’s not going to hear me arguing. Hands palming my ass, he steps away from the door and almost trips when I bite the lobe of his ear. We are through the living room and down the hallway in a flash. He enters the master bedroom and stops at the end of the bed.

Letting go of my butt, he removes my legs from around him and slides me inch by inch down his body. I cling to him but he takes my arms down and gently pushes me away. I look up at him, confused. His eyes are black, wild, and when they drop down to my exposed breasts, they become almost . . . feral. It’s a look that could make a weaker woman fear him. But the threat of lost control only makes me burn even hotter.

He eases my shirt and bra straps down my shoulders until they float to the floor. Then he’s on his knees, unbuttoning my jeans and peeling them down my legs. I step out of them and I’m left in only a black pair of bikini panties, edged in lace. His hands grasp the backs of my thighs and he buries his nose against my mound, inhaling deeply.

“So much better than my dreams,” he says reverently. After another lingering inhale, my panties join the rest of my clothes and I’m airborne as he lifts me up and sets me in the center of the bed, then stands back to look at me.

I don’t have body issues normally, but something about this moment suddenly makes me shy. More aware than usual that I am all curves. I move to cover myself but he leans over and snatches my wrists, holding them above my head in one hand.

“You’re beautiful, Lindsay,” he purrs. “Everything I see is blindingly gorgeous. I won’t ever get tired of looking at you.” He runs his other hand down my throat, the valley between my overly large breasts, over my not-quite-flat stomach, and a thick thigh. Every spot he touches magically turns beautiful to me because I unexpectedly see what he sees when he looks at me.

His hand settles between my legs, cupping my pussy, one long finger dipping inside. I gasp at the zing that zips through my body. “So wet for me,” he groans. Removing his finger, he sucks it clean, his eyes closing as he savors. I can’t help squirming a little, my body restless and feeling so empty.

His eyes open and he stares at me, fanning the burn I feel. “You taste like . . . I don’t think there is anything I can compare it to. I’ve never had anything so delicious.” I melt right into a puddle of liquid want. I’m beyond ready for him to be inside me, so I decide it’s time to pipe up.

“You’re wearing an awful lot of clothes, fly boy,” I quip.

He raises an eyebrow, and I’m reminded how damn sexy he looks doing it. “Is that so?” He smirks.

I nod, trying not to let the fact that I’m naked in his bed and that he’s standing over me fully clothed, mess with my bravado. “I think it’s high time I got to see the goods too.”

“The goods?” he laughs, and I’m suspended in the air for a second as I focus on the beautiful sound. He steps back and methodically removed his clothes, one piece at a time, making me wetter and more desperate with every new piece of golden skin he exposes.

Finally, finally, he stands before me gloriously naked, his desire for me evident by the—gulp—huge erection jutting out, tall and proud. Is this thing going to fit? It bobs as he makes his way onto the bed and straddles my upper legs. I reach for his member, but he catches my hand and kisses it. “It’ll be over before we start.”

I frown, frustrated that I don’t get to explore his body like he has mine. I want to drive him wild, make him lose his cool and bring out the animal I saw lurking earlier. “Whatever happened to gender equality? Equal opportunity and all that bullshit?” I grumble.

Colton throws back his head and roars with laughter. I make the most of his distracted state and wrap my hand around his cock. Or, as much of it as I can anyway. I pump him once then find myself pinned to the bed, arms above me, my legs locked between his muscular thighs. “I said no,” he snarls, his face hovering only centimeters from mine. I’m shocked by his rapid mood shift and unsure what to do or say.

“Let’s be clear about something, Lindsay,” he growls. “I am insanely attracted to your strength, your independence, your bravery. It’s sexy as hell and turns me the fuck on.” His face gets a millimeter closer and his grip on my wrists tightens. “But in the bedroom or wherever we are fucking, I’m in charge. Do you understand?”

I want to be offended, to huff self-righteously and storm out. Every feminist on this earth is probably sending me encouraging vibes, wanting me to stick it to his male dominance. The things is . . . I think I’m going to come just from listening to his little speech. And now every one of those women are probably about to march in protest, parading through the room to stop me from giving in.

Except . . . then they’d see what I see and they may put up a flimsy front, but I know they’d give in too. It’s like the women who stick up their noses at smutty novels when they have a stash of well-worn paperbacks in the attic.

My paperbacks are beautifully displayed on a bookshelf in my living room. And, I’ve got nothing to hide or be ashamed of here either. “Okay,” I agree, careful to keep my tone and expression neutral. I don’t want to give away every advantage by letting him know just how much his dominance excites me. A lady has got to hold on to her cards where she can.

When am I going to learn my lesson? He searches my face and a gleam enters his eyes. I sigh, yeah, he knows. His face molds into a dark mast of lust, and he wiggles a finger between my legs. Even if my face hadn’t given it away, I should have known the traitorous little pussy cat would.

“Hands stay here, or I will tie them to the headboard,” he instructs. I nod and he rewards me with a deep but fast kiss, leaving me a little stunned. He shifts so he can open my legs wide and settle himself between them.

A half hour later, I unclench my hands from where they had been gripping the headboard and think, no tying necessary. I’m utterly exhausted from the two, yes two, orgasms he wrangled out of me with his wicked, wicked tongue and fingers. It doesn’t mean I’m not still restless and as empty as I was before.

I want to demand he take me now, but it’s clear I’d be risking inciting him and he’d take it out on my poor kitty and she can’t take anymore. Colton is kissing his way up my body, stopping only when we are perfectly fit together. He watches me silently, and I can sense him holding back, cautious about whatever it is he wants to say. I brush the back of one hand down his cheek and he leans into it, closing his eyes as though savoring my touch.

“What is it?” He looks away, prompting me to grasp his face with both hands, nudging his eyes back in my direction. “Let’s make a deal, you and I. No games, always honesty, and no judgement.”

His expression turns soft and tender, gracing me with a small smile. “I like it.”

“Good, so tell me what you were thinking just now.”

He hesitates for so long, I start to worry that he isn’t going to open up and that would put the first nail in the coffin that is our relationship.

“Are you on the pill?” his query is so quiet, I almost miss it.

Thisis what he was so worried about asking me? It doesn’t jive with the Colton I know.

“Are you?” he prompts a little more insistently.

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