“Did so,” I muttered, then blinked because I had no idea what I really thought he should be begging forgiveness for. But the fact that he may be right only infuriated me more. Glaring, I bucked up against him. “You irritated the piss out of me.”
The bastard laughed. Then he leaned down and rubbed his nose against mine. His breath washed over my lips before he murmured, “The first time I thrust inside you, I want you to tell me again how much I irritate you. Then I want you to fuck my brains out, claw my back, pull my hair, and grab my ass, forcing me inside you as deep as I can go. God…” He shuddered and gasped for breath, his eyes going unfocused as his nostrils flared with arousal. “Why does just thinking about that already have me right on the edge, ready to explode?”
“Because, clearly, you have issues,” I answered, tightening my leg muscles around him before I sprang up, forcing him up too and over until I was rolling him across the bed and had him on his back and under me. Triumphant, I straddled his waist the way he’d just been straddling mine, and I then grabbed his wrists to trap his hands over his head.
God, what a rush.
With a challenging arch of my eyebrows, I gazed down at him, eager and ready for him to counteract.
Grinning, he lifted his hips so he could rub his erection against my pussy. “Oh, did you want to be on top? Why didn’t you just say so?”
I was a soaked mess; I was surprised he didn’t feel how wet I was through all the layers of clothing between us. It felt so good to alleviate some of the ache, I ground back down on him, forcing his hips back to the mattress. “You just called me a damn control freak,” I volleyed back. “Why didn’t you already know?”
He loved my answer. I could see it in the brightening of his eyes and in the flash of his teeth as he smiled. “Touché.”
The poor thing was panting and his face was slick with a sheen of sweat. He really was close to blowing. But then, so was I. I felt this primal urge to claw and bite and attack with every molecule in me, so he’d be forced to get rough right back and pound into me without any finesse.
It was the oddest thing ever; I was usually so subdued and held back as much as I could from the guy I was with. But I felt this connection to Colton that made it seem as if I could do anything I wanted with him and he’d be right there with me, which made me actually want to try everything. It was liberating and exciting and gave me an adrenaline rush that flooded my veins with a consuming vivacity.
“Get this goddamn shirt off,” I demanded, already grabbing the hem and peeling it up his washboard abs and then over his impressive pecs.
Since I’d let go of his wrists to remove his clothing, he was able to sit up under me and peel his top the rest of the way off. And then he was panting, “You too,” as he reached for my blouse. It was up and over my head a moment later.
He went straight for my breasts, cupping his hands around my bra before releasing a nipple from the top and capturing it between his teeth.
I groaned and ground down on him harder. “I need you inside me,” I gasped, slapping at his shoulder so we could return to the undressing part.
Whimpering as if he didn’t want to stop feasting on me, he finally let my aching nipple pop free of his mouth. Then he smoothed his hands down my sides as if heading for my bottoms. But he paused at my side, his fingers drifting over my tattoo he’d just then discovered.
“A dream catcher,” he murmured in awe, twisting around so he could see the rest of the tattoo that started on my back. Only a single feather from the dream catcher could be seen on the front. “Amazing.”
He lifted his face and glanced toward my window, taking in the half a dozen dream catchers I had hanging there. When his lips parted with amazement, I touched his face until he turned his attention back to me.
“I want it hard and fast and delicious. You think you can handle that?”
Instead of answering, he kissed me. His lips slammed into mine. Our mouths opened and tongues tangled as if wrestling for control. The next thing I knew, his hands were gripping my hips and he was lifting me off him before swinging me around and tossing me back onto the bed. My spine barely hit the mattress before he ripped my pants down my legs.
Staring at my panties, he groaned and shook his head. “These panties you wear are going to kill me, I fucking swear.”
I blinked, confused. “What’s wrong with my panties?” I wore the most boring, plain cotton underwear that provided nothing but comfort. How the hell did he find that exciting?