“The dog thing isn’t my kink. But all fours has definite possibilities,” Colby said as Keats carried her down the hall.
She didn’t miss the ripple that went through Keats’s muscles at the comment. Was that fear? She wondered exactly how far Colby and Keats had gotten last night.
But she wasn’t able to let her mind wander for long because in the next few seconds, Keats was shutting the door to his room behind them. He lowered her to her feet and clicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp on, then shucked his pants and boxer briefs. Keats’s gaze met hers, hungry anticipation there, as he closed the scant distance between them. If he was nervous at all about being with her for the first time, he didn’t show it. He might be submissive in certain circumstances, but confidence in the bedroom wasn’t something he lacked. She could feel the heat rolling off him and seeping into her skin.
It took everything she had not to reach out and explore, tracing those muscles and tattoos with fingertips and lips. He was art and sex and sharp, beautiful edges. But she got the sense he was leading the show right now.
“Can I touch you?” she asked.
His mouth canted up at the corner. “I’m not him, George. You never need permission from me.”
“Do you want me to take charge?” she asked, wanting to give him what he needed if that was what he craved. “I mean, I’ve never done it formally, but I’m not afraid to try.”
He cupped her face and brushed his lips over hers, silencing her. “Actually I’m fighting hard not to jump on you and devour you whole. Seems you bring out my aggressive side. So if it’s all the same to you, I don’t need any labels or roles right now. I just want you naked, in my bed, and coming as hard as you can.”
She wet her lips, her body tightening in the best possible way at his words. She could see all the barely penned-in desire skating across his features. He was holding back with her, trying not to overwhelm her. “You don’t need to be easy and romantic with me, you know? I’m not those girls you’ve been with. If you want to be rough, be rough. I won’t break.”
His jaw twitched and he took a deep breath. “I would never hurt you.”
She slid her hands along his hips and aligned her body with his, her own confidence building. “I know that. So stop holding back and take what you want from me. Let go with me.”
He growled, his hands sliding into her hair gripping tight, and kissed her hard. “You’re a fucking fantasy, George. I’m going to wake up and be back in that shitty hotel.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond but instead kissed her more deeply and tugged at her panties. She helped them along down her legs and stepped out of them. His hands moved down her back and he gripped her ass in his palms, seating her against his erection and digging his short fingernails into her skin. The sting of pain only made her feel wilder, more desperate for release. She tangled his hair in her fingers and moaned his name.
He pushed her down on the bed. “I love that sound—my name in your mouth. Say it again.”
“Keats,” she whispered against his lips.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fuck me, Keats.”
His green eyes went almost black in the lamplight. “Patience, beautiful. First, I need a taste.”
He crawled down the bed and braced his hands on the back of her thighs, pushing them open. Then he bent down and did what she could only describe as outright worship. Lips and tongue and even the graze of teeth moved over her with unbridled enthusiasm and surprising skill.
Her fingers dug into the sheets. Jesus, she was never going to last like this. The sounds of his mouth on her alone were careening her toward orgasm. The men she’d been with in the past had been . . . neat when it came to oral sex. Precise. Which she would’ve figured was the best way to go. But Keats’s mouth, nose, and tongue were everywhere. Her inner thighs, the crease where pelvis met leg, stroking her clit. Sloppy and wet in the best way possible. And all the while, he had two fingers moving inside her, leaving her no doubt that this man loved every moment of this. He wasn’t simply trying to get her off. He was getting off on it.
And nothing was hotter than that.
“Keats,” she begged, trying to warn him that she was going to go over.
But he obviously had no intention of stopping. He curved his fingers inside her and sucked her clit between his lips and hummed.
That did her in. Her fingers gripped his head hard as orgasm slammed into her with a force that had her arching off the bed. She cried out, heels digging into the mattress, and Keats rode the wave with her until she collapsed back onto the bed with panted breaths.
“Scoot up the bed, George,” he said, kissing the inside of her knee. “I’m not nearly done with you.”
“I’m not sure I can,” she said, still trying to catch her breath but knowing she didn’t want to leave this room without feeling Keats deep inside her.
Keats was all male satisfaction when he smiled down at her. “You look good all wild-haired and sweaty. I’m thinking of making this a daily goal to get you looking this way.”
He bent down and kissed her, his lips tasting of her arousal, and despite the rocking orgasm, a steady, unfulfilled throbbing between her legs remained.
“Your mouth is a lethal weapon,” she said.
He gave her a smug smile as he pulled a condom out of a bag on the floor. “I’m inexperienced in kink. That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to treat a woman in bed.”