Page 78 of Don't Brake My Heart
‘I did one thing well then. Two things, all up,’ he added with a wink.
Heat rushed up my chest. ‘Colin, stop. I admit you were very good for my sexual self-awareness, but you don’t have to flirt with me all the time. I just wanted to check how you were holding up.’
‘I’m not flirting with you, Kubicka,’ he insisted. ‘You just understand me better than anyone else right now and I like it – a bit too much.’ He sighed – an enormous breath, full of frustration – and rubbed a hand over his head, mussing his hair.
I did understand – how alone he felt. It was dangerous how much I wanted to tinker around in his heart and see what blossomed.
‘Leesa,’ he said on a groan, ‘you can’t look at me like that if we’re not supposed to be kissing any more.’
His hand curled around my nape and sparks skittered along my skin, gathering in the sensitive places he’d awakened with his hands and his lips.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, my brain stalling. ‘Maybe we should… one last time.’
His hand tightened. ‘What don’t you know? Whether you want me?’
I shook my head with a huff. ‘We both know I do.’ I lifted my chin. ‘I don’t know what’s best. On Saturday you have to—’ I broke off with a squeak when he hopped to his feet and leaned over me, dropping his hands to the bed on either side of me.
‘It’s not Saturday yet,’ he said smoothly, his gaze dropping to my neck. He walked his hands backwards and I tumbled onto my elbows. He loomed above me, not touching yet, but I could feel him everywhere – in the air surrounding me.
‘What if this—?’
‘Overthink it later,’ he murmured. ‘Right now, I need you.’
I flopped onto my back, my lungs tight. His words shivered over my skin, but it wasn’t only with desire. ‘Need’ wasn’t a pretty word. It was dependent and unhealthy and a pretty good description of the way I felt about him too.
‘Just kiss me, Kubicka.’
I didn’t hesitate, slinging an arm around his neck and dragging him down for a panting, open-mouthed kiss.
He tumbled into my body as I wrapped myself around him. I felt more than heard the hitched grunt from deep in his throat as he took two fistfuls of my wet hair, tugging just enough to sting lightly.
My vision blurred as he ground into me, absolutely no doubt of how much he wanted me from the hard pressure and the wild sweep of his tongue into my mouth.
‘Up!’ he said suddenly, rising to haul me to my feet. Undressing me with rough, urgent hands, I was naked in a matter of seconds, his hands curling around my ribs. ‘Why are you so fucking beautiful?’ The words seemed to pain him, but they made my nipples pebble and my skin burst to life. ‘Where’s this tattoo?’
With a laugh bubbling in my chest, I turned to show him my right thigh, now adorned with a jagged black electrocardiogram, a heartbeat – for life, for sport. Maybe for him, because I was an idiot. But when he crouched down to feather a soft kiss over the image, it didn’t feel like such a stupid thing to have ink on my body that would remind me of Colin Gallagher.
His hand slid up the back of my thigh to my waist as he stood, his other hand drifting to his pants as though the pressure was unbearable – at least, that’s how I felt.
‘I want to fuck you for hours, Lees,’ he said, his lips brushing my cheek. ‘But I can’t stand it. This might be embarrassingly quick.’
I just nodded, my speech too dull to reply with words, and dragged his hand down to my bottom, lower. When his finger dipped between my legs, I didn’t recognise the needy sound I made.
‘Christ,’ Colin groaned, swallowing loudly. His fingertip traced the swollen line from the sensitive nub to the tender lower end and I had to cling to him heavily, gasping and trying not to thrash as the sensations slammed through me. ‘This is so sweet,’ he mumbled through gritted teeth. ‘You want me to fuck it?’
‘Yes!’ That word fell easily from my lips.
‘All right,’ he soothed. With strong hands he turned me around and marched me forward. I was too startled to question what he was doing, until I caught sight of us – of myself – in the mirror on the back of the hotel-room door. My skin was flushed, my nipples points, and Colin’s hands on me were proprietary and thrilling. My footsteps stalled, but he urged me ahead, even when I stumbled.
Picking up one of my hands, he pressed it into the mirror and ran his other hand down my flank. ‘Have you done it this way before?’ he asked, his voice even.
I shook my head.
‘Do you want to?’
This time I nodded.
‘Good. Hold on.’ That was all the warning I got before he shoved down his tracksuit bottoms and underwear and then he was hitching up my hips and sliding his cock between my legs. The slow penetration was exquisite, thick friction and overwhelming pressure, his heavy breaths on the back of my neck, his arm rigid around my waist, fingers splayed.
