Color of Loneliness (42 page)

When his lips leave hers and he buries his face in her hair, she tries to catch her breath. Something seems different about him, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. He seems lighter and more determined, no longer waging a battle inside of his head like usual.

Keeping her tight against him, he closes the door and locks it before turning her around and pressing her against it. His lips touch her neck, his teeth softly biting. Moaning, she arches her head back against the door, giving him better access. He groans against her skin as his mouth drags up and down every inch of it. She has never felt this wanted by a man before. She can feel his desire for her in every nip against her skin.

She slips her hands into his hair, rubbing her fingers softly against his scalp and gliding through the thick, silky strands. His lips hover over her ear as he pants hot heavy breaths against it before he places soft, warm kisses underneath it. She can’t breathe as his tongue licks her lobe then sucks it into his mouth, his teeth scraping across it gently before releasing it. A shiver runs up her spine. “I need you, Myra. I need you really fucking badly,” he whispers huskily against the shell of her ear causing her heart to pound harder.

She needs him too, desperately. Never has she had such a clawing, fiery need for another person. She pushes gently against his chest. Stepping back, he frowns down at her with his mouth gaped open, his breathing heavy. Keeping her eyes on his, she reaches both hands up and cradles his jaw in her palms, rubbing it tenderly before her hands slip down, pushing his coat off of his shoulders so that it falls to the hardwood floor behind him.

Her fingers ghost over his worn-out T-shirt, feeling his toned muscles beneath it. She can even feel his heart pounding against her fingers. Her hands move lower, across his tight abs, her fingertips softly grazing the waistband of his jeans. His stomach muscles twitch and twist under her feathery touch; she can hear his breathing hitch and increase. Slowly, her hopeful eyes meet his, and she’s mesmerized by the desire she sees in them. “I want you too, Dylan,” she whispers, never more confident about anything in her life.

* * *

Dylan’s body responds wildly to Myra’s words. She basically tossed kerosene onto the inferno raging inside of him. He feels wild and not at all in control.

“Jesus,” he groans as he again lunges for her lips, so soft and tender against his. Their tongues tangle roughly. His need for her burns in the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop until he quenches his thirst for her. And still, Dylan finds himself drawn to her for more than just her physical allure. Myra reaches a deeper place inside of him: that place surrounded by his carefully crafted walls.

With one hand, he whips his shirt off and tosses it blindly behind him. He stares deep into her eyes, watching carefully for her reaction. He watches her eyes greedily take in every inch of his exposed chest and abs. Her eyes lock with his for a moment before her hands reach out and tentatively touch him; they feel so fucking good on his skin.

She looks up at him with trusting eyes as her hands leave his chest, and she slowly pulls her sweater over her head. It dangles from her fingertips for a moment before it drops to the floor. She averts her eyes, her face flushing slightly. He puts a finger under her chin and lifts it until her eyes meet his. “You’re fucking perfection.”

Her shoulders relax as she gives him a shy smile. His gaze moves over her plain white bra to the gorgeous breasts underneath. He wants to suck and bite on her nipples and run his tongue over them until she screams for him to stop. He swallows hard, trying to maintain some semblance of control, and looks into her eyes.

Pulling her to him, he softly touches her lips with his as he wraps his arms around her. The skin on her back feels like satin under his rough fingertips.

He groans from the amazing sensation caused by her breasts pressing up against his naked chest. Pulling his lips away from hers, he kisses down her neck to her collarbone. His tongue drags across to the soft dip in the center of her throat where he inhales deeply, smelly her fruity scent.

He stares into her eyes. “Can I…?” he says before swallowing hard. “Can I kiss you…?” He pauses, his eyes dipping to her breasts as he nods at them. “… there?”

“Oh God, yes.”

Hungrily, he kisses her lips again, and mumbles, “Thank you,” huskily against her mouth. Leaving her lips, he places several hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Trailing small kisses along her collarbone, he continues lower until his lips and tongue skim across the beautiful, silky skin of her chest, softly and gently kissing and licking the rounded swell of her breasts. She moans and grabs his hair, tugging almost painfully. Her desperate cry goes straight to his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles against her breasts.

He needs more of those sounds from her. His tongue finds its way to her cleavage, delving in and out of it, licking between her breasts. His hands burn to touch them. When he can no longer stand it, he reaches up tentatively and gently squeezes them. His lips stay on them, kissing and running his tongue across them as his hands tenderly knead them.

“I need more. Can I…?”

“More, yes. Please.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

His right hand pulls down the cup of her bra to reveal her pink, perky as hell nipple. He takes it in his mouth, sucking and rolling it around his tongue. It feels so fucking good that he actually shivers.

Myra moans softly and mutters, “Oh, God.”

He bites her nipple gently then pulls down the cup on the other side, giving equal attention to that nipple. He keeps his mouth on her, licking and sucking her as he reaches around her back to undo her bra. He tries and tries, fumbling with the clasp but can’t get the damn thing to unsnap.

Releasing her nipple for a second, he mutters, “Fucking shit,” before he tries again.

Myra giggles as she reaches around herself and pushes his hands away, undoing it for him and dropping it to the floor. When he sees her breasts for the first time, his mouth drops open and his breath catches in his throat. He finally snaps out of his stupor and watches his hands as he cups her, feeling the weight of them in his palms and rubbing his thumbs over the taut peaks.

He can’t get enough. He greedily takes everything she gives him, but he wants more. He needs to be inside of her. He aches to be inside of her. His control slips. Being this desperate for someone, wanting someone this badly, frightens him.

As he looks into her beautiful face, for a moment, he feels unworthy of her. But her soft touches and the tender look in her eyes make him want to be whatever she needs him to be.

Taking a small step back with his eyes on hers, he lowers his hands and undoes the button on his jeans, unzipping them. He pauses, waiting for her reaction. Dylan knows exactly what he wants, but he doesn’t want to make assumptions for Myra. Her eyes widen before her gaze drops to his crotch then back up to his eyes. With her mouth slightly open and her eyes steady on his, she slowly reaches down and undoes the button and zipper on her jeans. Her hands drop to her side as if waiting for his next move.

He slips his thumbs into his waistband and tugs slightly, pausing. Staring at each other, they shed their jeans and underwear together, leaving themselves bare. Breathing loudly, Dylan gazes at every inch of Myra’s flawless body.

Moving closer, his arms reach around her waist as he presses his body against hers, skin on skin, feeling her soft curves against the hard ridges of his body. The contact causes his heart to beat forcefully against his ribcage. He loves feeling the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest. When his lips find hers, he lets his hands start to explore a little. Leaving her mouth, he pants heavily against her neck as his fingers trail up and down her spine before moving lower down to her beautiful, rounded ass.

He pulls away from her neck as his right hand slides from her ass slowly across to the front of her thigh. “Can I touch you…” he says between pants as his hand stays on her upper thigh and his thumb grazes her soft curls, “… here?”

He gasps when she shoves her hands in his hair, and pulls him roughly down to her mouth. “Yes,” she mumbles against his lips.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in response as his hand dips between her legs, his fingers gliding along her slit.

She breaks off the kiss and gasps, “Oh God,” as his fingers dip further, rubbing back and forth in her wetness.

She hangs onto his neck and pants with her eyes closed and her head thrown back against the door. He fucking loves seeing her like that. He groans as his fingers continue touching her. “You’re so goddamn wet,” he says before he even realizes it.

“Sorry,” she replies, as her face colors lightly.

He shakes his head. “That’s hot as fuck,” he says in a hoarse voice.

She throws her head back again and grips the hair at the base of his neck as she lets out several high-pitched moans. His eyes stay fixed on her face as his fingers move slowly between her legs.

His eyes widen and he mumbles, “Holy shit,” when he feels her hand on him. Every hair on his damn arms stands up over her simple touch. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to calm the fuck down and regulate his breathing.

As she continues to stroke him, he groans loudly as he slips a finger just slightly inside her.

“Shit,” she says with a moan. He can’t remember ever hearing her cuss before. That dirty word on her sweet tongue makes him crazy.

Roughly, he pushes her harder against the door as he slides his finger in deeper. She moans and writhes against him as she continues to rub her hand along his length. He kisses her mouth, her neck, any bit of skin he can get his lips on. He slides his finger in a few more times before he adds another. She feels so warm and hot and wet against him. He can’t stand it anymore. He needs to be inside her. Pulling his hand away, he reaches his hands around towards her ass. “Move your hand,” he grunts at her.

She releases him, and when he lifts her up, she wraps her legs around his waist. He pushes her up against the door harshly as he kisses her hard. Keeping his mouth on hers, he pushes off of the door and heads in the direction of the couch.

“Motherfucking shit,” he yells when he stubs his toe on the coffee table with her still wrapped around him.

Myra giggles softly. “Are you okay?”

He nods. “Goddamn motherfucking piece of shit,” he mutters through heavy breathing as he lays her down on the couch and climbs on top of her.

Myra smiles up at him as she wraps her arms around his neck and runs her fingers through his hair. “You sure?” she asks between soft pants.

He nods before he crashes his lips onto hers and kisses her until she moans beneath him. Pulling away from her mouth, he reaches down and positions himself.

Very slowly, Dylan pushes into her, watching her face as he moves. Myra gasps, shuts her eyes, and arches her head back.

He drops his head onto her exposed neck. “Holy fuck,” he growls into her skin, overwhelmed by the sensation of being inside of her.

“Dylan,” she moans as she digs her fingernails into the skin of his shoulders.

Hearing her moan his name makes him almost lose his fucking mind. Groaning, he bites on her neck, sucking roughly.

She grunts and mutters, “Yes,” as he moves inside of her. He buries his face in her hair and starts moving faster.

“Myra,” he groans in her ear as he thrusts in and out. She feels so damn good, he knows he won’t last long.

“Harder,” Myra demands as Dylan’s eyes widen.

“Fuck,” Dylan mutters as he pumps faster and harder.

“Yes. Oh my God,” Myra cries out as she tugs harshly on his hair, arches her spine, and throws her head back.

Dylan can feel her start to pulse around him; he can’t hold his shit back any longer. He pulls her thigh up, running his hand up and down it as he continues moving quickly. He leans down and kisses her, then starts mumbling.

“Myra, I’m gonna… oh fuck, I’m, shit, oh Jesus.” He shuts his eyes tight.

“Dylan,” she screams and that does it for him. His body tenses and with a loud roar, his orgasm rips through his body. He pumps into her as he moans and groans with each thrust; his release shooting out in thick spurts. He finally collapses on his elbows and buries his face in her hair.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles in astonishment, panting like he just ran a goddamn marathon.

* * *

Myra runs her fingers over Dylan’s shoulders as he lies on top of her trying to catch his breath. She can feel him trembling. “Are you okay?” she asks as she runs her hand lightly through his hair.

He lifts his head and nods. “That was fucking intense.”

She smiles at him, nodding back.

“Ah, fuck,” he groans before he drops his head back down on her.

“What?” she asks, straining to catch a glimpse of his face.

He lifts his head and stares into her eyes. “I didn’t wanna do it that way. I fucked it all up. I shouldn’t have attacked you like a goddamn caveman.”

She reaches her hands up, cradling his face and staring into his eyes. “It was perfect. Every single second of it.”

He studies her face. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” she says, smiling.

He stares at her for a long moment before he finally nods and returns her smile.