Sensations pinwheel through me.
From Cole’s hand gripping my inner thigh.
From Daniel’s masterful control of the vibrator.
I shiver. I shudder. Lust radiates in my bones, camps out under my skin. “Why do you like this, Sage?” Daniel whispers near my ear.
“She’s a glutton for orgasms,” Cole answers. “She can’t get enough of them. I’ve never met someone so orgasmic before.”
My God, I want that. I want to be bathed in orgasms. I want to drink them down. I want to have another, and another, and another.
I groan. Try to hold the sound back in. I can’t though. My body is desperate, craving release like it’s breath.
“She’s so good at coming,” Cole continues. “She loves to come. She loves to be touched. She loves to have all of her body lit up all over.”
Daniel turns the vibrator higher. The pressure and the buzzing are so intense, so delicious I bite the inside of my cheek. I’m seconds away from coming. I’m on the cusp. I’m riding the edge.
Then Cole joins in.
His hand travels up my thigh and slides right underneath Daniel’s hand. He pushes two thick fingers into my hot, wet center, crooking them inside my pussy.
Right as the vibrator reaches its crest against my clit, Cole’s fingers hit my G-spot, and I come like a hurricane.
The biggest, most intense orgasm I’ve had in ages happens here in public at the bar, lashing me like a beautiful storm, waves crashing against the shore, with the bartender no more than ten feet away from me.
I’m biting my lip, clenching my teeth, holding in all the moans and groans in the world.
Finally, when the pleasure ebbs, my shoulders slump and I pant and turn to Cole. “Can we please go fuck in my limo?”
20
Cole
I take the woman at her word.
But there are many ways to fuck, and they don’t all start with cocks. I haven’t tasted her, and that’s first on my agenda.
After Daniel excuses himself to take off for a meeting at the Bellagio, I head to the portico with Sage, who’s called her driver. The second the limo door slams, I pounce on her, pinning her to the long leather seat in the back, grateful the partition is up. Raising her arms above her head, grabbing her wrists, grinding against her. Moaning, she wraps her legs tightly around my hips.
“Did you like it when he fucked you with that toy back there?” I push my rock-hard cock against her center as I rasp out the question, a tight edge to my voice, since she likes that, since I feel it.
“You know I did, Cole. Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”
“Tell me,” I demand, hungry for her, hungry to know how dirty she is, how kinky she is. “Tell me how much you loved it.”
“I fucking loved it. You’re right. I love coming. I love it when you make me come. I love when you and Daniel make me come.”
My vision goes hazy as desire rockets through me. “You like when we both find ways to fuck you,” I say as I let go of her wrists and move down her body, hiking up the skirt of her dress.
“I do. I love it all.” She raises her hips, begging me with her body. Begging for anything I can give her. Begging to be taken.
“You’re so fucking ravenous, sweetheart. You want it all, don’t you?”
She rocks up as I pull the black lace panties down her legs and over her heels, tossing them onto the floor of her car as the limo moves slowly through traffic.
“I want everything,” she says, breathless and bothered.
“Then get those sexy legs wrapped around my neck. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue,” I say, and she parts her legs, inviting me to devour her pussy. She’s so aroused already, so pent-up, so fucking wet from what we did to her at the bar. I spread her open, dip my face to all of that glistening wetness.
My eyes squeeze shut as a jolt of pleasure so fucking intense I swear I will feel it for days slams into my spine.
I lick her. I kiss her. I get drunk off the sexy, sensual taste of her arousal. I slide my hands under her ass, lift her pussy closer to my face, and eat her.
She can’t even form words anymore. She’s moaning, thrusting against my face, her gorgeous legs wrapped tight around my neck. I devour her sweetness, flicking my tongue against the delicious rise of her clit as she cries out.
My dick thumps against my slacks, hard as iron, begging to get inside her. But I intend to give her orgasms in every possible way, starting with this. I flick my tongue where she wants me most. She grabs at my hair, tugging it, yanking me closer, and in seconds, this decadent, sinful woman is bucking against my face, shoving her pussy against my tongue, shamelessly rocking her hips against me.
I follow her every move as I drink in the delicious taste of Sage Carmichael aroused beyond reason. She pulses against me, shaking, tightening her legs. Nothing but incoherent sounds fall from her lips until she grips me even harder so I can barely breathe, but I don’t care.
Not one damn bit, since she’s flooding my tongue and drowning my senses in this delicious taste.
Her.
I lap her up, savoring every last drop of her orgasm. Then I rise, park myself on the seat, and unbutton and unzip my pants. I reach for a condom in my pocket, then grab her hand, tugging her up.
“Get on top of me. I want to fuck you and kiss you at the same time.”
In seconds, Sage climbs over me, rolls the protection down my length, then straddles me. She drops down on my dick, her pussy swallowing my cock in one mind-bending, lust-rattling move.
I grab her hips, gripping them, staring into her sex-drunk eyes, cataloging the flush in her cheeks, the crazy hunger I see written all over her face. With one hand on her hip, I raise the other one to the back of her head, drag her close, and whisper against her luscious mouth as I thrust up into her cunt. “Get those lips on me. You can taste how delicious you are, Sage.”
She crushes her lips to mine, like she’s devouring me.
The kiss is long and deep and hard. It’s hot and fevered, and it shows no signs of ending. Pleasure jolts through my body, rattling through my bones as she fucks my cock.
She’s an animal, carnal and wild, rising up and down, taking me over and over, deeper and deeper, and owning this moment, owning this pleasure.
We pull apart as I slam her down hard on my shaft, then give her more of her dirty wishes, painting a scene of what’ll happen next time. “This weekend, we’re both going to fuck you, Sage.”
She nods, fast, fevered. “I know.”
“I bet you wanted him in here tonight, didn’t you?” I thrust up into her.
“I did. I wanted to taste him.”
“I bet you’d love to suck his cock while I ate your pussy.” And the sound that comes from her mouth is . . . pure filth. It’s the hottest groan I’ve ever heard, so I keep going, doling out more dirty details. Filling her mind with what I have planned for her. “Did you want him to feed you his cock while I was eating your pussy?”
The look on her face is bliss. “I think I’d love that,” she says as she wraps her hands around my neck and thrusts down harder on my shaft.
I bring my hand to her mouth, running my finger over her bottom lip. “Bet you’d love that. Bet you’d love having this gorgeous mouth filled with his cock while I ate you.”
She grows wetter, clenching against me. “I would take him so deep in my throat, just like I’d do to you, Cole,” she whispers, and I growl in her ear at that thought.
At how willing she is to take us both. To take anything we have to give her.
I bring my hands to her ass, gripping the flesh. “I bet you’d love it if he fucked your pussy while I slid inside this gorgeous ass of yours,” I say as my fingers dance close to her back entrance.
The woman arches against me, like a beautiful wave is running through her entire body. She’s writhing, and then, her face falls into the crook of my neck, her lips whisper across my skin. “Do that to me sometime. I’m begging yo
u.”
Pleasure coils in me, and I can tell she’s near the edge. “We’ll give you everything, Sage.”
That’s what I want to do with this woman. I want to make her feel spectacular. I want to give her more ecstasy than she’s ever known.
I jerk her head back, kissing her mouth hard and deep as she fucks my cock to the edge of desire.
We take each other over the cliff, spiraling into white-hot bliss as we both succumb to release.
A little later, after we come down from the orgasms, I clean her up with some tissues, pull her onto my lap, push my hands through her hair, and kiss her. This time it’s soft and slow, and I want her with a new kind of desperation. “Why don’t we just drive for a bit?” I ask.
“I like that idea.”
Me too, because I don’t want this night with her to end.
21
Cole
The inevitable question comes quickly.
“Why?” she asks, curling against me in the cool, air-conditioned stretch limo.
There it is. The why.
But this skirts too close to that organ in my chest. The one that likes being in a time-out. That is accustomed to hibernation. To this long winter’s nap it’s been taking.
“Why what?” I answer, evading as I run my fingers through her soft hair, a futile attempt at distraction.
“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t become you,” she chides, then turns her face to me, pulling away from my hand in her hair, her eyes locking with mine.
She’s as direct as she’s ever been. She’s not a woman who suffers fools. Nor is she a woman who settles for anything less than what she wants.
Knowledge.
But I know how to navigate around topics I’m not ready to tackle.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“You know that’s what you’re doing, Cole.” She takes a beat, keeping those blue irises pinned on me. “Why do you want to fuck me with your friend? Because I can tell it’s not only a kink. It’s a need. It drives you on, beyond the sexual.”
No one has ever asked me that.
Not even Georgia.
No one has ever demanded to know.
To peer inside and find the answers.
Maybe no one else has needed them the way she needs them.
I lean back against the seat, drag a hand roughly through my hair, and consider her question, her observations, and if I want to answer.
And what this means. Because she’s keyed in on something, and the least I can do is try to give her some truth. She deserves it. And I suppose I want to let her in. I like having her in. Being seen, being understood feels good in a way I haven’t experienced in years.
But the truth is complicated. “This kink—it’s not as simple as pleasure. And it’s not as twisted as I’m fixing a hole in my heart,” I say.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
I run a hand up her leg, craving contact. “I do love touching you. That’s true. That doesn’t need to be deconstructed. We don’t have to unpack that. Some things simply are.” My fingers travel along her thigh, the same path they journeyed earlier in the night at the bar, and as she did then, she shivers.
“Agreed. Pleasure for its own sake is . . .” She stops, laughing lightly. “Simply pleasure for its own sake.”
I give her a faint smile. “Yes, it is. And that’s not a bad thing.”
She tap-dances her fingers up my chest. “Pleasure is a good thing. Too often, we focus on work, work, work. We don’t give ourselves chances to unwind. At least, many women don’t. We often deny ourselves pleasure and the exploration of it. But why deny it?”
She asks the question as if she’s fully processing it now—as if she’s asking it for the first time. Maybe because she’s letting herself fully experience a new kind of bliss.
“Don’t deny it,” I say, an intensity in my voice, because I detest the thought of her doing that. “There’s no reason to forbid yourself from having bliss. And I am, admittedly, obsessed by it. I am consumed by the pursuit of pleasure at times. I want the woman I’m with to feel . . . out of her mind.” I slide my hand up her arm into her hair, threading my fingers through those locks, and I tug. Hard.
She lets out an enticing moan, a long, needy ohhh.
Then I chase it with my lips. I press my mouth to the column of her neck. Dust a soft, barely-there kiss over her skin. Let it turn into a trail of delicate, open-mouthed kisses along her throat, up to her ear, across her jaw.
As she murmurs.
As she sighs.
“Like that?” she asks, her voice going all feathery.
“Yes. Like that. I want the woman I’m with to feel spectacular,” I say, but that’s not enough. These statements don’t cover it. These statements keep her at a distance, and I don’t want her far. I want her near. She’s not any woman. She’s the one I can’t get out of my head.
Cupping her cheek, I turn her face closer to mine. “I want you to feel incredible. I want you to feel amazing. I want you to feel . . . undone.”
She nibbles on the corner of her lips when I change the focus to her. To where it should be. And as I say those words, I start to feel how deeply they resonate with me already. I want this woman to feel everything I can give her.
“I feel that way with you. Undone,” she says, all soft and vulnerable, like a confession.
Pride suffuses me, spreads through my chest, makes me feel like something inside me is glowing. An odd feeling. One I’m not quite used to. But one I like. One I get with her.
“Good,” I say, then give her another kiss. On the end of her nose.
She laughs again.
“It’s hard to resist kissing you. I have a hard time resisting you in general,” I add, then quirk up my lips. “As you might have noticed.”
“I have,” she says, tracing her fingers over my chest once more. “But you still haven’t answered the question. And I want to know the answer. I want to know why,” she presses, urgency in her tone. “Because I don’t think we’re going to stop until both of you fuck me at the same time.”
That knocks me in the chest.
That steals my breath.
Because this woman is fearless.
She is brave and daring and so damn direct.
I clasp her chin, holding it. “And do you want that?”
She gives me that look. The one that says you know the answer. “More than a week ago, I’d have said I had no idea.”
“And now?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. She simply studies me. Her eyes are serious. “And now, I’m not sure how I can’t have it.”
A groan works its way up my chest. A hungry rumble. All my senses are firing at full speed, all my desires are living close to the edge of my skin as I lower my hand, sliding it down her arm. “You’re going to love it, Sage. Do you know why?”
“Why, Cole?”
I stroke her forearm, savoring the soft feel of her skin as my fingertips graze her. “Because of everything I said to Daniel at the bar. You love to be touched. Everywhere. All at once. You love to be so blissed out you can’t think. You can only feel.”
She trembles as I tell her this, then nods. “That sounds true.”
“And I think I know why.”
“You do?”
“I do,” I say, threading my hand through her hair again, letting her lean back, seeking out the contact she craves.
“Tell me.” It’s a needy plea from her. Perhaps a desire to understand herself.
And it’s far easier to focus on her than on me.
I meet her eyes again as the limo cruises slowly down the Strip, past the flashing lights of skyscrapers and billboards flickering beyond the tinted windows. “You spend all day taking care of people. You work hard for your employees, for your hotel, for your family name. You care about the city; you care about giving back. You care deeply and immensely for your sister and friends, and your parents’ legacy.”
“I do. That’s all true. And
so?” She seems eager to hear what I have to say. She’s on the edge of her seat even as she’s in my arms.
“And at night, you want to be taken care of. Everywhere,” I say, running my fingertips down her chest, through the valley of her breasts, along her belly. “And in every way. You want so much pleasure it blots out all the things you store up here all day long,” I say, returning to the side of her face, tracing her temple. “You want to let go of your need to care about everything and everyone. Including your legacy. Including the ones you love most—your family,” I say, and her eyes widen, her lips flatten. But not with annoyance—more with wonder. Maybe even with an awareness that perhaps she’s been understood. “And you can let it all fade from your mind. Fall away from this big, beautiful brain of yours.” I lean in close and whisper in her ear, my voice going low, harsh, even. “And you like it when I can fuck it all away.”
Lifting her chin, she pulls back, locking her eyes with mine. “Stop reading my mind,” she says, a little curve on her lips.
I drop a kiss to her sweet, sexy mouth, consuming her kiss, her sighs, her murmurs.
She breaks the kiss and sets both hands firmly on my chest. “And is it my turn to analyze you?”
I laugh, then shrug. “Sure.”
“Were you trying to get out of answering the question, Cole?”
“No. I wasn’t,” I say, though that’s not completely true. Perhaps I was. “So tell me. Why do I want you the way I do?”
She slides her hand down my chest, resting it on my stomach. I brace myself for her to mention the last woman I cared for. For her to delve into how it felt to lose someone I was falling in love with.
“Because you want to prove you’re worthy.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Her answer came out of left field. “What do you mean?”
“You said your father told you that you weren’t good enough.”
“Yes, he did.”
“And I think you do everything you do to show that you are more than good enough. That you can build and create and make things happen. Now, pleasure is one of those things. I believe it’s part of how you see yourself. As a man who can give the most incredible pleasure to a woman.”
One Exquisite Touch: Book One in The Extravagant Series Page 14
