Hunger. That is what his kiss tastes like. What his hands feel like on my body. What I feel inside. I want every inch of him and then some. I want to lose myself in him, get lost in the sensation, and become overwhelmed by his touch alone.

“Christ, Rylee …” he pulls back from me, our chests heaving against each other’s, our hearts both beating a frantic rhythm. He cups my face in his hands, the look in his darkened eyes tells me that he understands. He feels the hunger too. “You’ve stripped me, Rylee. You’ve teased me all night. I. Just. Don’t. Have. Any. Control. Left.” He squeezes his eyes shut as I feel his cock pulse against my belly. “I don’t think I can be gentle, Rylee—”

“Then don’t be.” I whisper at him, my own words surprising me. I don’t want to be treated like glass anymore. Like Max did. I want to feel that violent passion of his wash over me as he takes me with reckless abandon. I want him to dominate me so that I surge up and crash down without a thought otherwise.

His eyes widen at my words, a guttural sigh coming from his throat, and then he is against me, sinking us into a devouring kiss. Desperation pulses between us. He pushes me backward, our legs shuffling into each other, our hands grabbing at every inch of exposed skin that we can find. My backside bumps up against the hard edge of the granite on the kitchen island as Colton’s hands fumble with my jeans. He shoves them down over my hips and then easily lifts me onto the countertop.

The chill of the granite slab bites into the bare skin of my heated core, adding a new dimension to the heightened sensation in my sex. Colton tugs my jeans and panties down off of my feet, and then spreads my knees apart. He steps into me, pressing between my legs as he brings his mouth back to mine. His hands run down my chest, cupping my breasts through the thin lace of my bra before continuing their descent to the apex of my thighs. He runs a finger over my cleft before slipping a finger between its seam to find me wet and wanting.

“Oh, Rylee …” he hisses as he slides a finger up and back, coating me with my own dampness and pleasuring me at the same time. His other hand is fumbling with the button fly of his jeans. He looks down to watch his teasing torment of my sex and then brings his lips to mine. “I want to feel you on me, Rylee. Nothing between us,” his mouth murmurs against mine. His words deepening the ache I’m drowning in. “Can you trust me when I tell you that I’ve been tested? That I always use protection. Have never had sex without it. That I’m clean.” He kisses me again, his tongue slips between my lips, licking, tasting, tempting. “God, I just want to feel you.”

“Yes. Me too. Please—” I gasp out as he slips a finger into me, my mind unable to form a coherent sentence. “On the pill…yes…I trust you,” I pant as his finger circles inside of me.

“Lay back,” he commands as he frees himself from his jeans and grabs my legs just under my bent knees, raising them up.

The cold stone on my back has me arching up the same minute he parts and thrusts into me. I cry out at the overwhelming sensation of his invasion and the sudden fullness of him. He stills, buried completely within me, allowing the pleasure/pain I feel to subside as my body stretches and adjusts to him.

“Oh fuck, Rylee,” he rasps as I can see his control slipping. His eyes blaze over my body and up to my eyes. I can see the muscles of his torso strain, his jaw clench, and his eyes glaze over wild with need as he tries to rein it back in. “You feel so damn good wrapped around me. Like velvet gripping me.”

I gasp as he pulses inside of me, his control depleted. “Yes, Colton, yes,” I cry out as he pulls out and slams back into me. Sensation ripples through me as he grabs my hips and pulls me toward him so that my bottom rests off of the edge of the counter. He sets a punishing pace as he thrusts back into me, over and over. Not breaking rhythm, he leans his torso over me and links his hands with mine, pulling them up over my head. He holds them there with one hand while his other hand slides back down to squeeze my breast. His fingers roll my nipple between them, and he swallows the moan he coaxes from me when he captures my mouth again.

The house is filled with nothing but the sounds of our slick flesh hitting each other, our gasping breaths, impassioned pleas between each other, and cries of ecstasy. I can feel the surge building inside of me, my channel tightening around him as he pistons in and out, each iron-hard inch of him hitting every one of my nerves. But I can also see a man on the verge of losing control and finding release as Colton lets go of my hands and braces himself on his elbows, hovering over me. He thrusts one last time before he yells out my name and then suddenly he pulls out of me.

My body clenches at the unexpected emptiness I feel as Colton buries his head against my chest as his body convulses with his climax. In his hand? I’m confused. He groans from the violent pleasure that is shooting through his body. I can feel the tension ease out of his body and the warm caress of his lips on my bare flesh. His touch makes my body squirm as my nerves tingle with the loss of my anticipated orgasm.

I can feel his smile press against abdomen and as if he can hear me thinking, he murmurs, “I want you to come for me, Rylee. I want to see how sweet you taste.”

Oh! My mind processes the reason for his sudden withdrawal. His mouth. On me. “Colton —”

“Shh-shh-shh,” he whispers in my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my lobe. I arch my head back, scraping my nails across his back. He hisses at my touch as he lays a row of kisses down my neck and around to the other ear. “You’ve teased me all night, Rylee,” his voice rasps, hoarse with desire. “Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

A chill runs down my back and it his has nothing to do with the cold granite that I’m laid out on. Colton’s body flanks me but I feel his hand stretch out and hear the crinkling of a bag beyond my head. I turn my head up to see what he is doing and Colton’s other hand holds steadfast to my jaw. “Uh-uh-uh,” he warns. “Keep your head still. I wouldn’t want you ruining the surprise.”

“Colton?” I furrow my brow, curious at what he’s talking about despite my body being on high alert with his words. I’m not exactly good with surprises on a normal day and especially not when I’m lying here naked, exposed and vulnerable.

He chuckles, deep and sexy. “That’s going to be hard for you, isn’t it?” When I don’t respond, he lifts up on an elbow and regards me momentarily. “I think it’s time you stopped thinking, Rylee. Stopped trying to figure what’s ten steps ahead when we’re only just getting started.” He presses a chaste kiss to my lips. “Stay here, Rylee. Don’t move. Understood?”

The authoritative tone of his voice turns me on. His reasoning behind it unnerves me. His weight lifts off of me, and I can hear him pad out of the kitchen. A drawer opens and closes. Apprehension fills me. For the carefree girl inside of me dying to get out, the anticipation is a thrilling feeling. For the control freak in me, the disquiet is unwelcome. Do I trust him? Yes. Without a doubt. Why? I’m unsure, and that alone scares the crap out of me.

I hear him return to the kitchen, and he leans over me, a lascivious smile curling the corners of his lips. “Do you know how gorgeous you look right now?” I don’t respond but rather bite my lip as I feel his fingers suddenly at my cleft. They part me and slowly trail up and down. Tiny whispers that leave me arching up to meet his touch. He immediately pulls his hand away.

“Colton—”

“Uh-uh, Rylee,” he teases. “I’m in control. Right here and right now.” I flutter my eyelids as I look up to meet his eyes. My heart hammers in my chest at his words. My nipples tighten at the thought. Fear tingeing the edges of my Colton-induced haze. Handing my control over to someone else is a disconcerting notion. Submitting without a thought even more so. “Stop thinking, baby,” he whispers as he pulls my hands above my head. “I want to take all control from you so that the only thing your mind can do is feel. You won’t be able to think five steps in front when you’re not the one making the moves now, will you?”

Oh fuck! What is he— My thoughts are obliterated when he crushes his mouth to mine. I wiggle to move my hands and he laughs inside our kiss. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you’re going to learn that sometimes, not being in control is extremely liberating.” He loops something around my wrists and binds them around the faucet at the other end of the island. As I register what he’s done, as I start to realize how practiced that move was and how many times before he’s done it, my world goes black as he slips a blindfold over my eyes. I gasp in surprise. In excitement. “Time to take your own advice, Rylee.”

What? When did I ever say tie me up and take advantage of me?

“You told me to close my eyes on the Tilt-A-Whirl. That it heightens the sensation.” The pad of his thumb traces the outline of my lips.

Oh crap! Me and my big mouth.

Something soft but slightly coarse runs over my stomach and up my torso to circle around my nipples. I suck in a breath as whatever he has strokes me lightly down the tops of my legs and then up one inner thigh and down the other. My sex clenches at the whisper of its touch, desperate for something to help ease the blistering ache. The only thing that touches my body is this object. The only sound I hear is my own breath. The anticipation that builds within me is profound as he continues his slow, tantalizing torture of my senses.

I’ve never needed a man’s touch in my life as much as I need his at this moment. My next thought is only where next. There is nothing to do but focus on the sensations. My nerves are on edge, awaiting this contact with my body. He has succeeded in making me forget what step ten will be, but rather revel in the step I’m in. I’ve lost all sense of my surroundings. Nothing else exists in this moment except for him, my desperation for his touch, and my body’s craving for release.