Three Broken Promises
Page 14

 Monica Murphy

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He tears his mouth away to break the kiss, panting against my cheek as if he needs the break. I know I do. My emotions, my everything, are a jumble in my head, though I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Tell me to stop right now,” he says, his voice harsh. He’s out of breath, looking so completely worked up I can’t help but be pleased knowing I’m the one who did that to him. “And I’ll walk away.”
If he walks away I’ll kill him . . .
God, look at me. The man toys with my emotions so bad he’s pushing me to violence. “I don’t want you to stop,” I say, shaking my head.
His hands shift so they’re in front of me, his fingers toying with the tiny pearl buttons of my shirt. “I’ve waited for this moment for what feels like forever.”
I swallow hard, overcome by his admission. God, so have I, I want to say, though it’s much harder for me to confess. That we wanted this all along, together, is enough to make me want to ask him why we wasted so much time when we could have been together.
But I don’t. Because I know that’s not what he really wants. To be with me on a permanent basis, in a real relationship. That’s just too much for him to bear.
“Please don’t stop,” I whisper because I’m still afraid he might. And I can’t have that. Not again.
“Good. Because once I have you na**d, kissing you everywhere . . .” He pauses, his mouth pressed to my ear. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“I-I’m okay with that.” He’s reduced me to stuttering. My brain, my entire body, is on overload at having him so close. His hands on me, his fingers slowly undoing each button that runs down the center of my shirt. He’s undressing me, his fingers brushing against my stomach, my bra, the tops of my breasts, until the shirt is completely unbuttoned and hanging open.
Pulling away slightly, he pushes the shirt from my shoulders so that it falls down my arms and puddles behind me on the counter. He studies me unabashedly, his eyes lit with dark, needy lust. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, his voice gruff.
His words make my cheeks flush with embarrassment but still I sit up straight, my br**sts thrusting out with the movement. The bra I’m wearing is made of white satin and trimmed with lace. I’m not very well endowed and it dawns on me that the bra also has some major padding, making me appear bigger than I really am. Guys kinda hate that. I had the misfortune to discover that a few years ago with a real jerk I’d been dating who’d been sorely disappointed when he took off my bra. So I try to avoid wearing this sort of bra when I’m on a date.
Damn it, I wish I’d worn something else.
“Pretty.” He traces his index finger across the tops of my breasts, close to the delicate lace, and I clench my thighs together but it’s no use. I feel his touch as if he’s slowly stroking me between my legs, setting my entire body on fire. “We should take this off, though. I bet you’re even prettier without it on.”
I wait breathlessly as his fingers go to the center of my bra, undoing the front clasp with ease. The cups spring apart slightly, exposing me, and I press my lips together, overcome with worry that he’ll be disappointed. Or worse, call me out as a fake.
The women I’ve seen him flirt with are nothing like me. They’re curvy and blond, with huge br**sts and tiny waists, whereas I’m tall and thin, with slight curves and small boobs. The total opposite of every girl I’ve ever seen him show a glimmer of interest in, I can’t help but wonder why he’s attracted to me.
But then he touches me and I forget all about my worry, my insecurities. All I can do is feel.
Colin slides his big, warm hands beneath the cups of my bra and pushes them aside, his palms brushing against my hard nipples. I hiss in a breath at the delicious contact, closing my eyes as I feel his weighted stare directed at my chest. His fingers tug my bra straps down my arms and I hold them out, feeling the bra fall away from me. I’m bared completely to him.
“Christ, you undo me.” Without warning he leans in, pressing his mouth to my breasts, his lips drifting across my ni**les as they race across my skin. “You taste so good,” he whispers, just before he circles his tongue around first one nipple, then the other. I open my eyes to see his hands are as busy as his tongue. One of them skims over my knee, up my thigh, moving beneath my skirt. His fingertips brush the front of my damp panties and I suck in a harsh breath, spreading my legs as best I can to accommodate him, but the skirt’s hindering my movement.
“Here.” He pushes my skirt up my thighs and I lift up to help, until the fabric is bunched around my waist and I’m completely exposed. Colin rests his hands on the inside of my thighs, spreading me wider, his gaze zeroed in on my pale pink cotton panties. I lean back, my hands braced on the cold granite counter, and it chills my heated skin.
His smoldering stare makes me feel beautiful, desirable. Just the way he looks at me leaves me almost embarrassingly wet. I squirm when he strokes a single finger down the center of my panties, holding my breath when he pushes firmly against my most sensitive spot.
I press my lips together to stifle the moan that wants to spill and suddenly he’s right there, his face in mine. “I don’t want you to hold back,” he says, his voice firm. “I’ve waited this long; I’m dying to see you fall apart.”
He never looks away from me as he slips his fingers beneath the front of my panties, touching bare, hot, wet skin. I sink my teeth into my lower lip as I groan low in my throat, closing my eyes so I can lose myself to the sensation of his sure fingers touching me in all the right places. As if he knows exactly where I want him, how much pressure he should exert, how gentle he should be. He’s perfectly attuned to my body and I can already feel the wave hovering on the edge, just ready to wash over me and sweep me away.
“Open your eyes,” his deep voice commands. “Look at me.”
My eyes flash open, my chest heaving as I meet his gaze. Without looking away from me he tugs my panties from my hips, pulling them down my legs until they become tangled around my ankles. I kick them off, realizing that he’s completely clothed while I’m na**d save for the skirt still bunched around my waist.
I feel vulnerable yet sexy, especially when his appreciative gaze rakes over me from head to toe.
“I want you to know who’s about to make you come,” he murmurs, his eyes hooded, his arms coming around my waist so he can grip my butt and haul me to the edge of the counter. Kneeling before me, he turns his head and presses his mouth to the inside of my thigh, and I moan at the hot path his lips blaze over my skin.
I can’t believe he just said that to me, as if I wouldn’t know it’s him. Colin. More than that, I can’t believe he’s down on his knees in front of me, about to place his lips between my legs and most likely drive me out of my mind in a matter of seconds.
“You’re so hot. And wet.” His mouth settles over the very center of me, his tongue darting out for a quick lick. I jolt so hard I almost fall off the counter.
But he’s got me. Those large hands are wrapped around my hips, holding me in place as he continues to lick me, his tongue teasing, searching, his lips sucking. My belly tingles, my entire body is quivering, and I throw my head back, lifting my h*ps so I can get closer to that decadent, devious mouth as he works his magic on me.
“Look at me, Jenny.” He says it again, adding my name to get my attention, and I snap my head back up, staring down at him to find him watching me carefully. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
Nodding frantically, another whimper escapes me. I’m teetering right on the edge, ready to plunge into the depths of what is looking to be a monster orgasm. And he knows it.
“Tell me what you want. Tell me what to do to take you there.” His voice is dark, his gaze heated, as he tries to prompt me into talking.
I’m not one for dirty talk. Truly, I’m not one for talking during sex period, but this is Colin. And he’s always been rather persistent.
“Um . . .” I moan when he sucks my cl*thard between his lips, slipping a long finger inside me, slowly sliding inside my welcoming body, in and out, building the tension that’s coiled within me with a few thrusts of his finger. “Oh God, yeah, that. Do that. All of it,” I choke out, barely able to form words.
I feel him smile against my sensitive flesh and a shiver runs down my spine. He starts to stroke deep within me, adding another finger, increasing his pace as he continues to suck and lick between my legs, his eyes never leaving me. Ever.
It’s the most intensely intimate moment of my life. Our gazes locked, his mouth on me, his tongue, his fingers inside my body. I feel connected to him, more than I’ve ever felt to another person before, and I close my eyes, overcome with sensation. Emotion.
Too much emotion.
And just like that, the biggest, most intense orgasm takes over me completely. I’m trembling, gasping his name, scared I’m going to slide right off the sleek granite, and his hands grip my ass so tight I think I might have bruises.
I don’t care. I want him to mark me; it makes me feel like I belong to him. And I want to belong to him, despite my acting like I’m perfectly fine with a temporary affair.
The shudders still consume me, making my limbs shake, my heart race. My orgasm leaves me dizzy, breathless. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.
Colin
That was a f**king beautiful sight, watching Jen fall apart like that. Talk about unromantic, throwing her up on my counter, stripping her almost completely na**d, and going down on her in the middle of my kitchen.
Damn, it was worth every minute, though.
I gentle my lips against her wet, quivering flesh, giving her one last slow lick before I stand back up. She’s a sweaty, shaky, out-of-breath mess, her once sleek ponytail now a complete wreck with hair everywhere. Her lips are swollen from my kisses and her chest and cheeks are flushed.
She’s gorgeous. And now I’m going to take her to my giant bed, strip na**d, and f**k her into the mattress for the rest of the night.
My every dream come true.
“You okay?” I ask just before I kiss her, long and deep.
Jen doesn’t even flinch, though I know she tasted herself on my lips. I break the kiss first, entranced by her swollen, delicious mouth. “That was . . . intense,” she murmurs.
“It was. Beautifully intense. And you’re amazing.” I kiss her again, because I can’t not kiss her. She’s so damn pretty and sexy as f**k sprawled across my counter. Her body is gorgeous, all long limbs and slender curves. I can only imagine those endless legs wrapped around me while I f**k her senseless.
My dick gets harder just thinking it.
Reaching for her, I pick her up, and she automatically wraps those long legs around me, anchoring herself. I grip her butt, my fingers sinking into her flesh as I haul her toward the hallway that leads to my bedroom.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, her lips right at my ear, as if she doesn’t know. Her arms are wound around my neck, her fingers buried in my hair at the back of my head. She starts kissing and licking the spot just behind my ear, as though she knows how much that drives me wild.
“To my room,” I say gruffly. “So I can f**k you properly in my bed.”
Her lips go still on my neck and she shifts so she can look at me. “You have such a dirty mouth.”
“I think you like that dirty mouth, especially when it’s on your—” Jen places her fingers on my lips to stop me from saying it and I can’t help but laugh.
“No guy has ever talked to me like that,” she admits, her voice soft as she drops her fingers away from my mouth.
Jealousy grips at my chest and I try my best to ignore it. “Ever?”
She slowly shakes her head. “Never.”
“Glad I’m the first, then.” I increase my pace, striding into my bedroom and depositing her on the bed so she lands with a little bounce. I watch in fascination as she reaches behind her and unzips her skirt, then shimmies out of it, tossing the wrinkled fabric onto the floor so that she’s finally gloriously na**d.
So beautiful and all mine, at least for tonight. For the next few weeks, if we hold true to the promise we’ve just made. I want to hold to it. But will she? Orgasms between friends rarely work out in the long run.
If I weren’t so ready to get na**d with her, I might find that thought amusing.
“Do you always talk like that?” she asks.
“Talk like what?” I shrug out of my shirt, then start undoing my jeans.
“Say such dirty things while having sex.” Her eyes practically bug out of her head when I shuck my jeans and underwear in one tug, my c**k on blatant display just for her. “Uh . . .”
Smiling, I stride toward the bed and join her, lying on my side nestled close to her warm, fragrant body. I rest my hand on her stomach and stroke upward, slowly sweeping over the valley between her breasts. I like that I’ve rendered her at a loss for words. “What I just said to you was positively mild,” I drawl, laying it on extra thick.
She turns her head toward me, her sweet-smelling hair getting in my face. “You’re not what I expected.”
I brush the silky strands away from my eyes. “And what did you expect?” Leaning over her, I drop little kisses along her collarbone, her breasts, those pretty little hard nipples. She’s not what I would consider amply endowed and typically I’m drawn to women with large breasts.
I love everything about Jen’s body, though. Wouldn’t change a damn thing.
“I don’t know,” she whispers as she places her hand on the back of my head. The subtle pressure she exerts shows she likes what I’m doing, so I draw her nipple into my mouth deeper, savoring the taste of her skin. “That feels so good.”