He let out a groan with his exhale, then leveled a devastating crook of his lips on her that made her knees weak.
“You have a pretty mouth, Savannah.” He kissed her again. She loved the way he kissed. It wasn’t savage or demanding, but more of a lazy, exploratory taste, rubbing his lips against hers, teasing her with his tongue. And while he did it, she was getting dizzy, everything inside her heating up to boiling point. Her butt rested on his kitchen table, and Cole had maneuvered himself between her legs, all that denim-clad muscle inching ever closer to her sweet spot.
She quivered with anticipation, moaned with it when he pushed her back on the table, grabbed her butt, and pulled her closer to the edge, drawing her * right against the hard ridge of his erection.
Lord have mercy, but if she rubbed herself against his delicious cock, she could come. Just the thought of her rocking against him while he watched—both of them fully clothed—made her clit throb and her nipples tingle. It was one of her hottest fantasies.
She tilted her head back and wrapped her legs around him, delving into the thought of doing just that. And when he laid the palm of his hand at her rib cage, where her heart beat a hard rhythm, she opened her eyes and met his gaze.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice as dark as his eyes.
“That if I rubbed myself against you I could come.”
He inhaled sharply and tilted his head down. His lids went to half mast, and he looked like the devil himself.
Which only turned her on even more.
“Yeah, that could be fun,” he said, his fingers clenching and unclenching on her hips. “But I’m gonna be the one to get you off tonight. More than once.”
Heavens. She’d just bet he could, too. There was an air of confidence about Cole, one of the things she liked most about him. She believed he could do what he said he could, and she looked forward to the hands-on experience.
When he pulled her to sit up and slid his fingers in her hair, she realized she never really enjoyed that whole hands-on thing. Oh, foreplay was nice of course, but she was always in a rush to get to the good part. She loved sex, loved everything about it, but she most enjoyed having a man inside her. It was the one time she felt the connection she’d spent her life searching for.
Now, with Cole’s hands buried in her hair, his body pressed full-on against hers and his mouth doing delicious things to hers, she felt one zinger of a connection, and they weren’t even close to the good part yet. She still had her clothes on, for one thing. But the way he massaged her scalp when he kissed her, she realized she’d never tingled before, except in all her girlie parts, of course. But her head tingled, and so did her lips. She was one giant nerve ending of feeling, from the top of her head all the way down to her uncharacteristically curling toes.
And when he scooped his hands under her ass and picked her up, she wrapped her legs around him and held on, nearly swooning, as his lips were still joined with hers and he was carrying her out of the kitchen toward—no doubt—his bedroom.
Her sex pulsed with anticipation, but then he stopped in the hallway, pressed her against the wall and kissed her so deeply she was dizzy.
She’d never been so fully involved in a kiss before, or so aware of every part of her body. Cole aligned his body with hers, and her breasts rubbed against his chest, her nipples tightening in an agonizingly pleasurable way. When he moved his mouth from her lips to her throat, she banged her head against the wall, the pain only heightening her pleasure.
“I think I might take you right here in the hall,” he said, his voice rough and low. “I don’t think I can wait.” He licked along her collarbone, his tongue dipping into the swell just above her breasts. “What would you think about that?”
Think? She had no thoughts. Her mind had gone liquid, like the rest of her. She couldn’t believe he was still holding her, that every part of her body quivered, and that she was so close to an orgasm that one touch, one lick, would set her off. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and fought for an answer.
“I think you can do whatever you want to with me.”
He laughed, the sound wicked and devilish. “I’m planning on it.”
He set her on her feet and she wasn’t at all surprised to feel her legs trembling. He held on to her with one hand, while the other pulled down the straps of her dress to reveal her bra.
“Pretty,” he said, his gaze caressing the black and yellow lace-and-satin demi-bra she’d chosen tonight. He drew one cup down and her breast popped free, her nipple already hard and aching.