Avery gasped, biting her lip. A ragged inhale was the only sound she made. Leaning forward, she pressed her breast into his anxious palm.
"Brutal Honesty," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm scared to death, Colby. But it feels so damn good when you touch me. Just not—everything—not tonight. But kiss me, please? And touch me. Just—you know—"
"Over, not under," he concluded.
Avery nodded. Colby smiled, leaning forward. His fingers smoothed the fabric of her shirt, pressing on either side of her nipple, making it pop forward.
"I can work with that," he murmured. His lips circled her nipple. It might be beneath the fabric of her shirt, but it couldn't hide from him. The tip of his tongue slicked the cloth as he drew her breast into his questing mouth.
Avery moaned, arching her back. Colby raised his hand to her other breast. His thumb teased the nipple of her right breast as his teeth taunted the left. She tried to raise his head so he kissed her mouth, but he stubbornly refused, renewing his efforts on her chest. His teeth rasped the cloth over both nipples, before visiting her cleavage. His palms pressed her breasts together as the tip of his tongue flickered between them. He drew a hot, moist line from the top of her shirt to the base of her throat.
She made a strange, strangled sound as he continued to knead and lick. Colby knew he didn't have to touch her anywhere else. He could make her cum just by working her chest. Unfortunately, everything he did to excite her, had an equally devastating effect on him. He could feel his erection burning and throbbing in his pants, begging for release. He wanted her to touch him, but knew if she did, the outcome of the night would be more than she bargained for. She was giving him so much more than she ever had, he didn't want to take too much.
"Oh, God!" she gasped. "Does everything feel this good?"
"Better," he growled, his face deep in her chest. "That hot, wetness you're experiencing, that's for me," he continued. "Because you're mine, Avery. All mine."
She giggled, spoiling the mood. "You're going all primal on me, Colby. All mine," she growled, in a fair imitation of him.
Disgusted, he rose from the couch. "Thanks. I needed you to laugh at me, Avery. I can't be responsible for what I say when my dick is engaged." He adjusted his pants without regard to her. He didn't care if it upset her. He needed some relief that he obviously wasn't going to get from her. "And you are mine, god dammit!"
"You don't own me, Colby Thatcher!" She sprang from the couch. Anger colored her cheeks. She burned red where his beard had rubbed her tender skin.
He knew he'd said all the wrong things, but he couldn't think of another way to say what was in his heart. "I don't want to own you, Avery."
"You just said—"
"I don't want to fight about this."
"You said that I'm yours. That sounds like ownership, Colby."
"Dammit, Avery! I'm yours, too. Okay? It's just a way of telling you how much you mean to me. It doesn't mean that I want to possess you. It doesn't mean that you aren't still your own person. It just means—it's a way of declaring my devotion to you. We're exclusive."
"Of course we are. You think I've ever let any other man touch me like that?" She raised her hand to smack him.
Colby caught her palm, kissing her fingers. "I don't wanna fight, Avery." He drew her close, his lips drifting up her arm. He put her hand behind his head as he kissed the bend of her elbow and up to her shoulder. When he reached the hollow of her throat, he stopped.
His hot breath woke all the feelings again. Avery shivered, closing her eyes with pleasure. Colby didn't move, didn't kiss, didn't lick. He exhaled slowly, tickling the hairs on her neck. She shivered with delight. He didn't make another move until she wriggled against him, bringing his lips to hers. This time, he let her guide his head where she wanted, even tipping his chin so she could kiss him. He opened his mouth and she kissed him deeply, slowly, with excruciating thoroughness.
"You're killing me," he groaned. "God, I want you."
"Not tonight," she whispered. "I can't."
Silently fuming, Colby nodded. "Let's have some ice cream," he suggested.
"Okay." She led the way to the kitchen.
Colby watched the way her hips moved in her jeans. He hadn't noticed, mostly because she always wore long sweaters and baggy shirts, but she had an amazing ass. He'd always been more of a breast man, but he could picture at least three ways to get nasty with her ass. Not that she'd let him—or that he'd even try—but it made him smile.
"What are you doing?" She stuck her head out of the kitchen and glared at him.
He realized he'd stopped walking. Standing in the hallway, sporting a ramrod boner, he looked sheepish. "You really don't want me to tell you, Ave. I promise."
"Pervert," she smirked, throwing a dish towel at him.
He caught it, clamping it to his groin so it wouldn't fall on the floor. Groaning, he followed her into the kitchen. She had the ice cream on the counter and asked him to get two bowls down. He set them on the counter and she grabbed the ice cream scoop from the caddy by the stove. Colby took it from her, wielding it with skill, twirling it on his fingers. He'd done a stint at an ice cream shop back in high school. He served up the rocky road, loading their bowls with perfect scoops.
©2021 Dellani Oakes
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