Page 44 of Color of Love

“You’re exquisite,” he breathed, and she let out a sigh. He bent his head, drawing her nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bead. She gasped and her hands flew into his hair, tugging sharply at the strands. He licked and sucked at her, then moved to its twin and gave it the same attention until she was writhing and babbling incoherently. He pulled back, his breath rasping from him, and unsnapped her shorts. She lifted her hips and he pulled them down and dropped them on the floor.

She was wearing a pair of black cotton panties, so simple but so sexy. She was unmanning him with every moment. His emotions were going crazy, this wasn’t like him at all, but he was desperate for her. He needed to build his wall back up before she overwhelmed him and crumbled his defenses.

“I’m sorry it’s not matching,” she said quietly, and his eyes flew to hers, his thoughts quieting. Did she not know she was killing him? Destroying him with her sweetness and sexiness? He shushed her concerns and fed her a savage kiss full of teeth and tongue. He needed this to stop feeling so gentle and tender before she ruined him for other women. Ha! What other women?

He didn’t think she’d like it so raw and harsh, but he was wrong. So wrong. She reveled in it. His fingers dabbled at the edge of her panties, waiting for her consent. She nodded eagerly and he ripped them off her and slowly slid two fingers deep inside her tight, wet heat. She soaked his hand and he had to bite his lip to keep from this all being over very quickly. She bucked wildly against him and shocked him by begging for more. He never thought she’d be like this, his cock ached, desperate to get to her.

He removed his fingers and fumbled at the zipper on his jeans, his hands struggling from shaking so much, he needed to get a hold of himself, needed them to slow down. He was meant to be making this memorable for her but he was rushing too much, too greedy to get inside her. She rolled her hips, moaning at the loss of him as he tried to unzip and shrug the denim down his legs to his knees.

The next thing he saw was her hand drifting down her stomach. His mouth ran dry, and he stopped breathing. His sexy little harlot was about to do something very dirty, and he didn’t plan on stopping her. He watched as her fingers found her center and stroked slowly. She arched her back, and tilted her head back, moaning. He watched her hand stroke lower, and she pushed two fingers inside.

Fuck.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from what she was doing. He watched as she worked herself, taking her pleasure. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life. He thought he would be showing her what to do this evening, but as usual, she took charge.

He sat back on his heels and continued watching as she rolled her hips into each thrust of her fingers, riding the waves. When she brought her other hand to her breast, pinching her hardened nipples, he pulled his cock from his underwear. He squeezed himself hard, then stroked slowly up and down, moaning as he watched her.

At his moan, she lifted her head, seeing him, her eyes widened as she took in his hand on himself. She met his hot stare, her honey eyes glazed with passion, then flicked them back down to his cock. She started rubbing her clit, faster and he could tell she was getting closer. He was so close already, he couldn’t believe it, but he blamed her for being so damn sexy. None of the other women he’d been with would have dreamt of touching themselves in front of him. He changed his mind, he didn’t want sweet and delicate, he wanted this. He wanted raw, carnal passion. He wanted her.

Moisture gathered at the tip of his shaft, and he slicked his thumb over the head, spreading it around.

“Blake,” she sighed his name as she buried her fingers in her pussy again, thrusting in and out. The sound of her fingers sliding through her wetness filled the room and had him tightening his grip and pumping harder in long strokes. She removed her fingers and reached for him, but he grabbed her hand and set it right back where it had been.

“Aren’t we gonna have sex?” she asked, her already husky voice deepening with her arousal. He had planned on it, but now he was here with her, there were so many things he wanted to do that one time with her wouldn’t be enough, he needed to stretch out their arrangement.

“Not tonight, honey. We’re gonna build up to that, we’re going to explore all the things we can do together,” he replied, panting as he felt his release coiling. “For now, I want to see you make yourself come.” She bit her lip and his cock throbbed in his fist.

“God, do you have any idea what this does to me, to see you touching yourself like that?” he rasped. A slow, sexy smirk crossed her lips and she got right back to it. He saw her fingers glisten in the soft light and he vowed next time he would taste her. He bet she tasted sweet and sinful.

She moaned, her fingers working faster. She was panting, her gasps getting higher and higher, and he knew she was close. She seemed to enjoy watching him too, she didn’t tear her eyes away from where he worked himself. God, he was going to burst any minute, but he wanted to watch her fall apart first.

“Pinch your nipples hard and rub your clit faster,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire. Her eyes flashed at his words and her breath hitched. Did she enjoy dirty talk? Jesus, they were in for a world of pleasure if she did.

“Feels so good,” she moaned.

“Looks real good, too,” he huffed out. Damn, she was beautiful. A sheen of perspiration glittered along her mocha skin.

“Make yourself come, now,” he demanded. She tipped her head back, getting ready.

“No, Justine,” he said, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes. “You stay right here, I want to see your eyes as you come.”

That was all she needed. She cried out and jerked against her fingers as she climaxed. That husky cry of hers, combined with the sight of her, tipped him over the edge. He tilted his hips forward as he came, hard, spilling over her thighs. When he was spent, he collapsed next to her, their ragged breaths filling the room.

*

“Oh my God, I knew it!” The piercing shriek pulled Justine from her vivid dream of her night with Blake.

Taylor? Justine bolted upright in bed, as did the half-naked man lying next to her. Not just a vivid dream after all. She saw Taylor standing in her bedroom, clapping happily as she took in the sight of Justine and Blake in bed together, then fist-pumped the air.

“I’m the best matchmaker ever! Fuck yes!” she yelled jubilantly. Justine glanced down and saw she was still in her underwear, as was Blake. He growled at the intrusion and pulled the duvet over Justine’s body, shielding her from view. She tried to ignore the sweetness of his gesture, not wanting to think about the gooey feeling inside it gave her. She heard more footsteps pounding and then Christy was running into the room, shouting,

“What’s going on, I heard screaming!” Christy stopped dead when she took in Justine and Blake in bed together and a grin split her face before she rolled her eyes and groaned. Justine watched as she reached into her jeans pocket, pulled out a $20 bill, and slapped it into Taylor’s waiting hand.

“What are you doing here?” Justine grumbled, side-eyeing Blake as embarrassment tinged her cheeks.

“How did you get in?” Blake growled. Note to self, Justine thought, he’s not a morning person.

“It’s wedding dress day,” Christy pouted, at the same time Taylor said, “With this mystical contraption. I put it in the door, turned it and alakazam, it opened!” She held up her spare key triumphantly.

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