Authors: Shiloh Walker
If he hadn’t been standing so close she could lean against him, her quivering legs just might have given way beneath her. But then he stepped away and she wobbled, automatically throwing out a hand and grabbing onto him. He covered her hand with his and with his other, he cupped her cheek. “But if this isn’t something you want, you better tell me now.”
He stroked his thumb over her lip and gazed down at her.
It was her call.
Bree knew if she told him to leave, he’d do just that. In all likelihood, whatever chance it was that lay before her would be gone. Colby wouldn’t do this again. If she pushed him away, she knew she’d never have this chance again.
Not that pushing him away was even a possibility. For her, it never had been. The minute he made it clear that he wanted her, she’d been his. All the words, all her worries and doubts and fears, none of it made any difference. Words. She closed her eyes, wished she could find the words to tell him what was inside her, but they weren’t there.
Words. They were his thing. Not hers.
But she didn’t need words.
Slowly, she stepped back. His hand fell away and as she watched, his gaze became shuttered, locking her completely out. But, as she reached for the placket of buttons running down the front of her dress, he hissed out a breath. She didn’t look at him.
Bree was pretty sure that if she looked at him, she’d freeze. She’d panic. Worse—she’d throw herself at him and ask if he loved her, even a little. She might not even care if he lied. At least not right away.
So instead of looking at him, she kept her lashes low as she worked the dress off. It was a halter style, a complicated thing that buttoned up almost like a man’s dress shirt, with a collar and a vee neckline, but it left her shoulders and back bare. It fit close, which meant that even after she unbuttoned it all the way down, she had to shimmy her way out of it. Letting it fall to her feet in a puddle, she stepped out of it.
An attack of nerves seized her, though, and she couldn’t finish stripping out of her clothes while standing in front of him. She felt the burn of his gaze following her as she started toward the pool. She undid her strapless bra and dropped it by the pool’s edge. The lights in the pool were kept on a timer and in the darkness of the night, the water gleamed a vibrant, jewel-like shade of turquoise. It reflected light off her body as she hooked her thumbs in her panties and pushed them down.
She heard him coming up behind her as she dove into the water and swam along the bottom of the pool until she reached the far edge. She surfaced, rested a hand on the edge and turned her head toward him. He still stood at the other side of the pool. Shoving off the wall, she stroked toward him in a lazy crawl. Her heart leapt as he stripped away his shirt, letting it fall to the stone walkway bordering the pool. After he kicked his shoes off, he crouched down beside the pool and hooked a hand over the back of her neck, drawing her up.
She braced her hands on the lip of the pool and shoved upward, meeting his mouth as he dipped his head and snaking one arm around his shoulders. He traced the edge of her lips with his tongue before pushing inside. She shuddered. Already the need was threatening to spiral out of control. Bree wasn’t quite so ready to give into it. Bracing one foot against the pool wall, she shoved.
He tumbled into the water with her, but if she thought that would buy her some breathing room, she’d thought wrong. He kept his arms wrapped around her and took her to the bottom, keeping their mouths fused until the need to breathe drove them to the surface. He swam upward, keeping her body pressed to his. Catching hold of the ladder, he kept them afloat, pressed his brow to hers. “That was mean. You do realize I still have my pants on, don’t you?”
She smiled against his lips and slid one hand down his chest. “Oops.” It took some fumbling and some patience to strip him out of the wet black trousers. He caught them before they could sink to the bottom and tossed the sodden material onto the walkway.
Sliding her palms into the waistband of the boxer briefs he wore, she brushed the tips of her fingers over the head of his cock. His rigid flesh jerked under her touch and a harsh breath hissed out from between his teeth. “Damn it, Bree.”
She grinned as she closed her hand around his cock and stroked. One slow stroke down, one slow stroke up. The cool kiss of water couldn’t hide the fiery heat of his penis. The skin stretched over his cock was silken smooth, and underneath, rigid, so damn hard. She realized she was clenching her knees together as her sex throbbed.
She milked him with her hand, staring at his face, lost in the rapture she glimpsed on his features. His head was tilted back, eyes narrowed down to slits, teeth clenched in a hungry grimace. He started to move, rocking forward to meet her hand—quicker, harder.
Then abruptly, he stopped, pulled her hand away and caught her wrist when she would have reached for him again. He kissed her—deep, hard—thrusting his tongue past her lips, devouring her, as though he’d swallow her whole.
He tore his mouth away from hers to blaze a hot, stinging line of kisses up to her ear. “Gimme a break, Bree. Slow it down or this is going to be over before we get to the fun stuff.”
Tilting her head to the side, she shivered as he raked his teeth down her neck. “This isn’t the fun stuff?”
“Maybe a little fun.” He stroked one hand down her side, reaching between them to circle the tip of his finger around the entrance to her pussy. “But the real fun starts here. I want to taste you. I want to bury my dick inside this hot, wet pussy and fuck you until neither of us can handle any more.”
Bree whimpered. Dazed, she arched against him and said, “I already can’t handle any more. Colby…”
He laughed. “Slow down, beautiful. I haven’t waited this long to rush it.” His mouth roamed restlessly over her neck and shoulder as, between her thighs, he touched, teased and stroked. Colby dipped his fingers into her aching pussy, while rotating his thumb around her clit, keeping his touch teasingly light.
“Damn it, Colby.”
He laughed and looped an arm around her waist. “Take a breath.”
The water closed back over them, drifting along her body in a silken, cool caress as he propelled them along the floor until they reached the shallow end. There, he pressed her back against the wall. Just as he pressed against her though, his eyes flashed and he swore. “Damn it. I need my pants.”
“No.”
It was sheer insanity that drove her—the only explanation—as she twined her legs around his hips before he could pull away. “I’m on the Pill—and I’m clean. I haven’t been with…” her voice trailed off as she tried to think how long. Too long. Finishing with a lame shrug, she said, “I’m clean.”
Bad move
, Colby thought as she rocked against him.
Very, very bad move
.
But he didn’t pull away.
He
couldn’t
pull away. Her long arms and legs twined around him, but even if she hadn’t held him so tightly, he couldn’t have pulled away.
He needed her—needed to feel her skin to skin, needed to lose himself inside her. Covering her mouth with his, he shifted the angle of his hips and let her impale herself on his cock.
Her pussy was wet and hot, so damn tight, and before she had taken half his length, she tensed up on him, arching backward. All that did was drive her farther down on his length.
A pained cry escaped her and she twisted, arching and rocking against him. Tension tightly held her body and Colby knew that even as sweet as it felt for him, those clenching, reluctant tissues fighting his intrusion, made it painful her.
Sliding a hand up her thigh, he cupped her hip and whispered, “Relax.”
She sighed into his mouth—a shaky, desperate little sound. He caught that sound and then trailed his tongue along her lips, skimmed his hand up her back and fisted his free hand in the short strands of her hair, tugged her head to the side and pressed a kiss to her throat. “Fuck, you’re hot, Bree. So damn tight…”
She shivered.
Against his lips, he felt her pulse skip a beat or two. Smiling against her skin, he whispered, “Sweet…hot…wet…”
She whimpered and arched against him, her tight nipples stabbing into his chest.
Bree liked dirty talk.
“You want to know how good you feel?” he asked. Bit by bit, her body eased. Just a little. Until he could sink another inch, then another, into her pussy until she’d taken all of him. “You feel like heaven, like hot, wet, silky heaven.”
“Colby…” she whispered, her voice a soft, broken moan.
Working his hand between their bodies, he stroked his thumb around her clit and her hoarse whisper erupted into a harsh sob as he stroked her.
“Fuck, Bree…” he groaned as she climaxed around him, the silken walls of her sheath clenching his cock. He gritted his teeth against the urge to follow her as she whimpered and shuddered her way through orgasm.
Even as her climax passed, she continued to move against him. She was so damn perfect, her pussy gloving him, tight and sweet, clutching at his cock as he withdrew—greedy, demanding. All he wanted to do was give her every last thing she desired…and more.
He needed more—had to have it—but the buoyancy of the water kept him from taking her as deep, as hard as he needed. Growling against her mouth, he pulled away from her only long enough to climb from the pool and then snag her wrist, pulling her along behind him. Water dripped from their bodies as he tumbled her to the wooden chaise by the pool and mounted her, spreading her legs wide and pushing deep. Bracing his elbows next to her, he hooked his arms under her shoulders, twined his hands in her hair and kissed her.
Bree cried out, the sound smothered against his lips. Her short, neatly trimmed nails raked down his back, leaving fiery trails of sensation along the path her hands had taken.
The cool night air danced along his damp body, but for all he knew, they could have been surrounded by a lake of flame, he was so damn hot.
Hotter than hell, and burning even hotter as she moved underneath him, her snug pussy clenching down around him, milking him, drawing him deeper, deeper.
Warning chills danced along his spine. Between his legs, his balls drew tight against him. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he buried his face against her neck. Not yet…
Self-preservation had him slowing down the rhythm of his thrusts. Bree cupped her hands over his hips and tried to draw him closer but he held back. Slow, easy thrust in—slow, easy withdrawal—still, her silk-drenched pussy was fist-tight around him, her scent flooded his head and her soft, hoarse moans were the most erotic sounds he’d ever heard in his life. Control was hard-won, bit by bit, degree by degree and every time she wiggled against him, every time her nails dug into his hips in demand, that hard-won control threatened to shatter.
Six fucking months of dreams weren’t going to end in under two minutes, though. Shoving upward, he balanced on his haunches while he hooked his elbows under her knees. Then he covered her again, using his weight to keep her from moving under him as he fucked her.
That sweet, snug pussy convulsed around him as Bree snarled in frustration. Her body tensed as she fought to set the rhythm.
“Be still,” Colby muttered, nipping her ear.
“Damn it, Colby—”
He nuzzled her neck. “I haven’t spent the last six months dreaming about this just so you can have me coming before I barely even have a chance to start. Be still.”
“Six months…” She stretched her arms overhead, her hands scrambling for something to hold on to. All she could find was the wooden chaise they lay on. Gripping it in her hands, she managed, just barely, to get enough leverage to grind her pelvis against his.
She moaned even as he swore, her lashes fluttering low over her eyes. He felt it coming on her, as easy as that, just the friction of his body rubbing against her clit.
She gloved him so tightly, but as she started to come, her pussy squeezed down around his dick in excruciating pleasure-pain.
He wasn’t going to be able to hold out this time. He tried, gritting his teeth, dropping his body down on hers and using his weight to pin her in place, but nothing he did could stop the rhythmic, milking caresses rippling along his cock.
Nothing could cool the fire building in his balls, racing up his spine and exploding through him. “Witch,” he growled, groaning low in his throat as climax slammed into them. It danced and sizzled through his veins—liquid electricity that started in his fingers, his toes, hurtling inward until it converged in his balls before exploding outward.
He had to see her—needed to see her eyes. “Look at me,” he rasped, letting go of her legs. “Look at me…” he laid a hand on her neck, rested his thumb against her lips. Her lashes lifted slowly. She opened her mouth, circled his thumb with her tongue before drawing it inside. She sucked on him as he rode her and the feel of it—her hot mouth drawing on his flesh—had another climax rise up and slam into him before the first one had even ended.
With a hoarse cry, he arched against her, lost in her. Dimly, he felt her body shuddering, shaking, moving in rhythm with his as she came.
And his name.
As he collapsed, to rest with his head pillowed between her breasts, she whispered his name.
Bree had no idea how long they lay there.
It could have been minutes.
It could have been hours.
She might have drifted off for a few minutes, she didn’t know. Nothing seemed real, yet it had that vivid, surreal quality of dreams, the kind that lingered with you for hours after waking. It wasn’t until he stirred in her arms that her brain actually kicked in and she realized what was going on.
It had all really happened. This wasn’t just some midnight fantasy that would shatter around her the minute she opened her eyes. Her body cried out at the loss of his heat as he braced his elbows on the ground and pushed up, staring at her face with unreadable eyes.
The practical bitch trapped inside Bree commented snidely,
Here comes the now-what
.
You wanted to know. Here’s the answer. He’s going to stand up, get dressed and walk away
.