The Driven Series Boxed Set - Limited Edition (Driven #1-4)

by K. Bromberg

  “The things I want to do to this tight little pussy of yours,” he murmurs as I feel his other hand part me again. His blunt words turn me on. Incite feelings I didn’t expect. I writhe beneath him as the cool air of the room hits my swollen folds. “Look at me, Rylee. Open your eyes so I can see you when my mouth takes you.”

  It takes everything I can to snap out of my pleasure induced coma and open my eyes. He looks up at me through hooded lids from between my thighs. “That’s it, baby,” he croons as his head drifts down until I feel the warm heat of his mouth as it captures my nerve laden nub at the same time he slips two fingers in me.

  I cry out, throwing my head back as a raging inferno blasts through my center—taking, possessing, building. “Look at me!” he growls again. I open my eyes, the eroticism of watching him watch me as he pleasures me is more than I’ve ever known.

  His tongue laves lazily back and forth, over and around as his fingers continue their delicious internal massage. He withdraws and then pushes back in, his fingers leisurely rubbing my walls within. I buck my hips up against him, begging for more pressure as I tinker on the edge of losing my sanity.

  “Oh, Rylee, you are so responsive,” he praises. “So fucking sexy.” As he replaces the warmth of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, the tempo and friction of skin on skin is exactly what I need. He slides up my body as his fingers continue their mind-blowing torture on my sex, his lips kissing, nipping, and licking until he reaches my face. Making me want like I’ve never wanted before.

  “Let go, Rylee,” he demands with his erection pressing deliciously into my side. “Feel again, sweetheart,” he murmurs as my hands wrap around his shoulders, fingernails scoring his sweat-ridden skin. The ball of tension mounts, begging for release. I buck my hips wildly against him, his fingers increasing their tempo, rubbing, penetrating, driving me into a rapturous oblivion.

  “Come for me, Rylee,” he growls as I reach the edge and scream out in release as my orgasm explodes within me, crashes around me, and ripples through every nerve and sinew in my body. My muscles flex reactively, clamping down on his fingers, causing him to groan at the sensation. “That’s it baby, that’s it,” he croons as he helps me ride out the rippling waves of my climax.

  I feel the bed dip as he leaves it, causing my eyes to fly open. He looks down at me, satisfaction on his face and desire in his eyes, as he slowly unbuckles his pants. “You are breathtaking,” he praises as I watch him, struggling to catch my panting breath. “I can’t figure out which is hotter, Rylee, watching you come or making you come.” His eyes sparkle with his libidinous thoughts. “I guess I’ll have to do it again to figure it out.” He flashes a wicked grin at me, full of challenge. My muscles coil tightly at his words, and I’m startled that he has me so worked up that my body’s churning to come again. I bite my lip as he pulls his pants down with his boxer briefs, his impressive erection springing free.

  Holy shit!

  He smirks at me as if he can read my thoughts and crawls on the bed with his lean, firm thighs. He grabs one of my splayed feet by the heel of my shoe and laces a row of kisses up my calf, stopping at my knee to caress his fingers at the sensitive underside before continuing the dizzying ascent of his mouth up my thigh. He stops at my apex and kisses me lightly there, swirling his finger gently over my sex, tickling, taunting, testing.

  I grip my hand in his hair. “Colton,” I pant out, his slight touch on my sensitized flesh almost more that I can bear.

  He looks up at me as he plants another kiss on my strip of hair. “I just want to make sure that you’re ready, baby,” he replies, pulling a wet finger from my core. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  A dozen things flit through my mind as I watch him slip his finger into his mouth before flashing a devilish grin and humming in approval. He predatorily crawls the rest of the way up my body, his eyes never leaving mine, and covers my mouth with his, his hand palming my trussed up breasts, his cock pressing into the V of my thighs.

  Emotions swirl within me as the dizzying pleasure surges again. He parts my legs with his knees and pushes himself up off of me to sit back between my thighs. He leans over toward the edge of the bed and produces a foil packet. My mind buzzes. I’ve been so overcome with everything in the past week that I haven’t even thought about protection. And despite him not knowing about my inability to get pregnant, I am glad he has enough common sense to think of this.

  I prop myself up on my elbows as he tears the packet open and watch as he rolls the condom down his iron length. His eyes flash up to mine, desire, lust, and so much more swarming within them. “Tell me what you want, Rylee.”

  I stare at him until my eyes are drawn down to watch as he runs his fingers over my delta and gradually parts me. I suck in a breath in anticipation. “Tell me, Rylee,” he growls, “Tell me you want me to fuck you. I want to hear the words.”

  I bite my bottom lip, watching as he lays his length against my cleft. He stills, and I look up to meet his eyes. I can see him trying to rein in his control, the vein in his neck prominent as he stares at me, waiting for my words.

  “Fuck me, Colton,” I whisper as he slowly presses the blunt tip of his cock into my entrance. I tense at the thought of accepting him, at the sensation of him stretching my channel to its limits, at the slight pain from it telling me that I’m alive, that I’m here in this moment with this sublime man.

  “Oh God, Rylee,” he moans as he pulses slowly in and out. “You feel so good. So damn tight,” he hisses, rubbing his fingertips softly up and down my inner thighs. “I need you to relax for me, baby. Let me in, sweetheart.”

  I close my eyes momentarily as the stretching burn fades to a full feeling. He pushes further, slowly, deliberately, until his cock is sheathed completely root to tip by my velvet walls. He stays motionless, allowing my body to adjust to him as he watches me. I can see his jaw clench as he tries hard to hold onto his control, and it’s an invigorating feeling to know that I can push him over the edge.

  I clench my muscles around him, gripping him reflexively as I push my torso up to allow me to see where our bodies are now joined as one.

  “Sweet Jesus, Rylee,” he warns, “you do that again, I’m gonna come right now.”

  I smile wantonly at him as he slowly starts to move. He pulls out all the way to the tip and then slowly slides his luscious length back in me. The feeling is exquisite and I fall back on the bed, allowing the sensation of my slick walls being penetrated to take over. I wrap my thighs around his hips as he starts to pick up the pace. His muscles ripple beneath his tanned skin as he moves with me. His eyes flick back and forth between mine and watching our union.

  I can feel the warmth starting to spread through me again as my body arches into the friction of his length rubbing my patch of nerves inside. My walls bear down on him, tightening and milking his cock as his rhythm quickens.

  He leans over me, balancing his weight on his forearms beside my head, and takes my mouth with his in a carnal, no-holds-barred kiss. Teeth nip, lips suck, tongues meld. I hook my arms under his shoulders and tighten my legs around his hips, locking my feet at the ankles. I need to get as close as I can to him. Need him to be as deep as he can be in me. Need to feel his sweat-slicked skin rubbing on mine.

  The pressure in me mounts to the point where I can’t kiss him anymore because all of my focus is on the insurmountable wave that’s about to crash down all around me. He senses my tension, my nearing oblivion, and continues his punishing pace. He reaches a hand down and slides it under my ass, pressing my pelvis further into his, grinding his against mine, causing that slight friction I need on my clit. Before I know it, my world ignites.

  I arch off the bed, bucking my hips uncontrollably as the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had spears through my center. I’m thrown off the cliff and hurled into a never-ending freefall. The pleasure is so strong, bordering on painful, that I sink my teeth into his shoulder trying to stifle it somehow. The wave crashes around me as Colton bucks
into me a few more times before I hear him cry my name out. He tenses, his cock pulsing jaggedly within me as he finds his own release. His muscles jerk in torment as he lets his climax tear through him before slowly relaxing. He then buries his head in the curve of my neck, his breathing harsh like mine, his heart pounding against my own.

  My orgasm continues to tremble through me, my muscles pulsing around his semi-hard cock still within me. With each tremor, I can feel his body tense from his sensitivity and hear the soft guttural moan from deep within his throat. His weight on me is comforting, reassuring, and I forget what a soothing feeling it can be.

  Sex has never been like this for me. This earth shattering. This hedonistic. This unbelievable.

  We lie like this for a moment, both silently coming down from our high. He nuzzles my neck, laying a kiss over and over in the same spot, his sated body unable to move. I close my eyes, unable to believe that I’m here. That this gorgeous man is here with me.

  I run my fingernails lazily up and down his back, breathing in his earthy male scent. I wince as he grunts and slowly withdraws from me, the empty feeling unwelcome. He ties the condom in a knot and tosses it onto the floor beside the bed before shifting back next to me. He lies on his side and props his head on his hand to watch me while leisurely running a single finger up and down my chest, causing a slow, measured breath to exhale from my lips.

  I glance over at him, our eyes holding for a second as we silently reflect on each other and the experience we just shared. I can’t decipher the look in his eyes. He’s too guarded. I shift my gaze to the ceiling as panic starts to take hold. What now? Colton’s had his way with me and now the challenge is over. Crap. I’ve only ever had sex with Max. We were in a relationship. We made love. It wasn’t a casual thing. And although what just happened might have meant a whole lot more to me than it did to Colton, what am I supposed to do now? With Max I didn’t have to think about having to leave after. Or the etiquette of if I stay? Does Colton want me to stay? What the hell am I supposed to do? Is this what a one-night stand feels like? Shit.

  “Stop thinking, Ryles,” Colton murmurs. I can sense his eyes trained on me. I still quickly, surprised that he can be so in tune with me despite only knowing me for a short time. How does he know?

  “Your whole body tenses up when you’re overthinking,” he explains, answering my silent question. “Turn that mind of yours off,” he warns, reaching out to my hip, pulling me toward and up against him, “or I’ll be forced to make you.”

  I can hear the smile in his voice and I laugh. “Oh, really?”

  “I can be very persuasive,” he taunts, running his free hand down my rib cage, stopping to idly palm my breast and run his thumb over my peaked nipple. “Don’t you think?”

  “Didn’t you just tell me I’m not allowed to think?” I sigh a soft moan, raising my chin as he leans into me to plant kisses in various places.

  “I love a woman who obeys,” he murmurs softly. I can feel him start to harden against me, and before I can process his ability to recover swiftly, Colton has rolled us over, switching our positions, with me sitting atop his hips.

  I sit astride him and stare down at him and his cocky grin. He returns my gaze, trailing his eyes up and down my torso. I can feel his length continuing to thicken against the cleft in my rear end. “My God, Rylee, you are enough to make a man go crazy,” he tells me, leaning up and reaching around me to unclasp my bra. My breasts come free, heavy and weighted from desire. Colton groans in appreciation before he lifts himself up to suckle one, my thighs clenching viciously around him in response.

  I lift my head up and arch my back so that he has full advantage of my chest. The thoughts I’d had moments before are now pushed away as he continues his barrage of incendiary kisses. I feel his arms wrap around me and fumble near my bottom before I hear the telltale rip of foil. He finishes jacketing himself as he trails kisses with his skillful mouth back up to my lips. He slants his mouth, taking tiny, delirious sips from mine as he brings one hand to my hair and fists it. He whispers gentle praise in between each kiss, each one stoking my craving for him.

  “Lift up for me,” he whispers as he brings one hand to my hip, helping raise me, while the other positions his turgid cock beneath me.

  I bite my lip in anticipation as his eyes hold onto mine, watching as I gently sink down onto the tip of him. I stay suspended momentarily as I let my fluids coat him so it’s easier for him to gain entry. It is empowering to watch the desire cloud Colton’s eyes while I slowly lower myself inch by delirious inch onto him until he’s sheathed entirely. I moan softly as he stretches me to the most incredible feeling of fullness. I’m forced to sit still for several moments so that I can adjust to the entirety of him. Colton closes his eyes, lifting his head back, lips slightly parted as a low rumble comes from deep in his throat.

  He brings his hands to my hips, and I start to rock myself on him. I raise myself up to his very tip and then slide back down, leaning back so he rubs the patch of nerves within my walls.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “You are going to make me lose my mind, Rylee,” he moans loudly as he kisses me possessively before lying back on the bed. He starts to piston his hips up in unison with my movements and soon we are moving at a frantic pace. Each needing more from each other. Each driving, pushing, tantalizing each other to the precipice.

  I look down at Colton, the tendons in his neck strained, the tip of his tongue peeking through his teeth, eyes darkened by lust—he is sexy as hell. His hands grip my hips, muscles tensing as he holds me, lifts me, and drives into me. I am climbing, spinning dizzily as pleasure washes over me. I grip one of Colton’s hands on my hip, our fingers entwining, holding on. He moves his other hand to where we are joined, his thumb stroking my clit, manipulating it expertly.

  My body quickens, my muscles clench around Colton, and once again I’m thrown into a staggering oblivion. I cry out his name as a rapturous warmth overtakes me, envelopes me, and pulls me under its all-consuming haze.

  “Christ, Rylee,” Colton swears, sitting himself up without stopping his voracious tempo, taking control to allow me to lose myself in my orgasm. He wraps his arms around me, strong biceps holding me tight, and brings his lips to mine in a devouring, soul-emptying kiss. The onslaught of sensations pulling at me from every nerve in my body are so overwhelming that all I can comprehend is that I’m drowning in Colton Donavan.

  I can feel his body tense, his hips thrust harder, and his arms squeeze tighter with hands splayed wide on my back. Colton buries his face in my neck before yelling out my name, a benediction on his lips, as he crashes over the edge. I feel him convulse wildly as he finds his release.

  We stay like this, me sitting astride him, arms wrapped around each other, heads buried into one another for some time, neither of us speaking. I am overcome with emotion as we hold each other.

  Oh, shit! How stupid was I to think that I could actually do casual sex? Feelings bubble up inside me. Feelings that I know Colton will never reciprocate, and I find myself struggling to maintain composure. I tell myself to hold it together, that I can wallow and break down once I’m alone.

  Colton shifts his legs and leans back. He takes my head in his hands and transfixes me with his intoxicating stare. “You okay?” he whispers to me.

  I nod my head, trying to clear the worry from my eyes.

  He leans in and kisses me. A kiss so gentle and affectionate that I have to fight back tears because his tenderness disarms me and strips me to the core. When he opens his eyes, he stares at me for some time. I see something flash through them quickly, but can’t decipher.

  He shakes his head quickly and lifts me off of him before scooting off the bed without a word. He stands hastily, averting my questioning look and runs his hand through his hair, muttering “fuck.” I watch his toned, broad shoulders and very appealing ass as he walks to the bathroom. I hear the water run and another muffled swear.

  I pull the sheet around me, suddenly feeling
alone and uncomfortable. After a few moments, Colton reappears from the bathroom with a pair of black boxer briefs on. He stands in the doorway and looks at me. Gone is all of the warmth and emotion that was in his eyes minutes before. It’s been replaced by a cold, aloof appraisal as he looks at me in his bed. He is no longer relaxed. The tension around his eyes and the strain of his jaw is obvious.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asks, his voice a curt rasp. “I need a drink.”

  I shake my head no, afraid that if I speak, the hurt I feel from his sudden detachment will only make matters worse. He turns and walks out to the main room of the suite. I guess I have my answer. I was just a challenge to him.

  Challenge conquered, now I’m disposable.

  I hold the heel of my hand to my breastbone, trying to stifle the pain inside. Trying to lessen the feeling of being used. I think of Max and the way he used to treat me after we made love as if I was so fragile I’d break. He would caress me and hold me and make me laugh. Make me feel cherished. My beautiful, idealized Max. What have I done to him and to our memory by sleeping with someone when I’m technically engaged?

  His mother’s yells echo in my ears as she tells me it’s all my fault his life is over—that I killed him and every hope and dream that went with him. Guilt and shame and humiliation wash over me. I have to get out of here. These thoughts fill my head as I throw the covers off of me and gather all of my discarded clothes before scurrying to the bathroom.

  The pressure in my chest is unbearable from trying to hold back my tears as I fumble clumsily to get my bra clasped. I throw my dress over my head, struggling to get my arms in the straps. I don’t have any underwear. They’re ripped apart somewhere on the floor and aren’t worth the hassle of finding. I’m missing an earring, and I don’t care. I quickly tug its matching counterpart out as I glance in the mirror, noticing misery mingled with regret heavy in my eyes. I take a tissue and wipe away the smudged eyeliner as I steel myself for my departure. After a few moments of masking my emotions and gathering my thoughts, I’m ready.