He kissed her shoulder lightly.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Oh goddess, he knew, he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“Fine,” she muttered but the word was shaky.
His body moved closer, his hand at the small of her back flattened, smoothing over her bottom and she felt a sense of relief that he was going to stop. Then it started its distracted figure eights and zig zagging again.
Her body tensed.
“Tell me about it,” Colin encouraged.
“About what?” Sibyl answered quickly, confused and wondering what he meant. Did he want her to explain how it felt, what he was doing to her?
“About your dream,” Colin murmured in her ear, using his stubble-roughened chin to move the heavy hair away from her cheek.
“What dream?” she whispered, her mind not processing anything but the fact that her bones had melted to water and her blood had heated at least one hundred and fifty degrees. Even her breasts had swelled and were aching for his touch, though he hadn’t even so much as looked at them.
She was beginning to panic.
Did he know about her dream man? Did he know about her idea of one true love?
“Your nightmare last night,” he answered and went on. “It’s all right, Sibyl, it’s over, it’s daylight now and you can talk to me about it,” he assured her gently.
Even the reminder of the horrible nightmare didn’t distract her from what his hand was doing. The nightmare was the same one she’d had over a week ago, before meeting him.
Her body continued to react to what she realised now was what he intended to be a soothing touch, though it very much was not.
“Colin?” she asked, and she heard the tremor going through his name.
She had wanted to ask him to stop, but his lips were close to her ear and he mumbled a vibrating, “Mm?” and, already aroused, the sound of it thundered through her and she was done.
Before she could stop herself (or even think of stopping herself), she whipped around, pushed him on his back and attacked him.
She manoeuvred her body, swinging her leg over his hips to straddle him and before he had a chance to react, she leaned into him, tilted her head and kissed him, hard.
She didn’t even try to be gentle. She was primed and ready for him.
Now.
Her mouth opened, as did his, her tongue darted inside and she moaned just tasting him.
Goddess, even first thing in the morning, just like always, Colin tasted divine.
He, to her extreme pleasure, immediately deepened the kiss
Tearing her mouth away, she realised his hands had settled on her waist. She rained kisses on his eyes, his cheeks, sliding her tongue down the column of his throat to dip it into the space between his jutting collar bones. She felt his hands slide up her sides then in to her back then they separated, one going up between her shoulder blades, one down to cup her bottom, all the while scorching a lazy trail of fire.
She dragged her lips down his chest then she ran her teeth across his nipple while one of her hands went between their bodies to wrap around him and she was thrilled beyond rationality that he was already hard.
She heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Sibyl,” this was a groan but she was beyond responding.
She lurched up, releasing him and running her fingers down his arm, pulling it away from her until she found his hand and as she did she kissed him, again ravenous. She wanted to devour him, her body was on fire for him, and she kissed him hard and hungry as she pressed his hand between her legs, whimpering as his fingers slid against her wet, sensitive flesh.
“I want you, Colin,” she whispered against his mouth, “now.”
The minute he touched her wetness, he understood. Then she watched his lips form a deeply satisfied, even smug, smile. While they did this, he slid a finger inside her.
“Thanks be to the goddess,” she breathed and closed her eyes in rapture as his finger filled her.
At her words, the finger disappeared and he flipped her on her back in one smooth move. Parting her legs expertly, Colin didn’t hesitate, he drove into her.
Sibyl cried out at the ecstasy of it.
Even though it had been only minutes since they started, it felt like she’d waited an eternity for him. She lifted her hips to receive his thrusts as she wrapped her arms about his waist, holding onto his tight, muscled behind for dear life, her nails digging in. She buried her face in his neck, tasting him there while one of his arms curled around the top of her head, giving him leverage to pound into her, harder and deeper.
It was glorious.
“Yes,” she purred in his ear. “Harder.” She nipped him there and her hips lifted to meet every thrust, each one deeper, sending spirals of desire shooting through her.
He stopped thrusting and started grinding and she caught her breath, ready, right there.
She knew it was going to happen, she knew it was going to be intense, beautiful, like always with Colin, and, right before she exploded, she whispered reverently, “Goddess, Colin, you fit me… perfectly.”
Then she gasped, arched her neck and cried out as everything in the world but the space where their bodies joined was obliterated and she felt the shudders of pleasure course through her with pure, sweet violence.
So consumed was she in her own climax, she missed his but vaguely noted he’d wrapped her legs around his waist in his final moments.
After they both came down, still deep inside her, Colin gave her his weight and both of them lay panting and speechless.
Finally, he came up on his forearms and looked down at her.
“That’s quite a way to combat a morning mood.” His voice was low, sexy and rough with residual desire and his handsome face was soft with approval.
As the last waves of pleasure subsided, she felt them immediately replaced with acute embarrassment.
What on earth was she thinking?
More to the point, what was she doing?
She’d just attacked him!
She closed her eyes and turned her face away at the same time she tried to push him off by pressing against his chest. It was one thing for him to buy her body and an entirely other thing for her to attack his.
Goddess, she was a raving wanton! What must he think?
She needed to escape.
She pressed against his chest harder.
He didn’t move.
“Sibyl,” he called.
“Colin,” she said to the wall, her eyes still closed, “Please get off me.”
He still didn’t move.
“Sibyl, look at me,” he demanded.
She shook her head but his hand came to her face and forced her to do as he said.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
She did and hers were filled with rebellion mixed with a good dose of humiliation.
“What just happened?” he seemed to see only the rebellion and she knew this because his voice was still low, sexy and rough but his face was no longer soft with approval but his eyes were intense with scrutiny.
“You were touching me,” she explained, her tone accusing, deciding her best course of action was to place blame quite squarely on his very broad shoulders.
“Touching you, yes, seducing you, no. What just happened?”
She shook her head.
“Sibyl,” he was using his smooth, even voice that meant he was close to losing his cool.
“I told you, you were touching me,” she repeated.
He waited but the expression on the hard planes of his face told her it wasn’t patiently.
Sibyl, again, obviously had no choice but to give him what he wanted.
“In a very sensitive spot,” she admitted reluctantly.
At her words, he looked startled. She should have been pleased at that but instead she felt all the more embarrassed.