Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1) (17 page)

“Yes,”
I barely choke out, “please.”

He
doesn’t hesitate, tugging on the belt, the only barrier preventing his access
to my body. I hold my breath; no one has seen me naked before. Not like this.

Colin’s
eyes leave mine as he sits back to open the folds of the robe, exposing all of
me to his greedy gaze.

He
inhales at the same moment I feel the chilled air of the room against my skin,
confirming my vulnerability. “Charlie,” he whispers as his hand touches my bare
stomach, pushing the fabric further away as he does. “You’re gorgeous.”

He visibly swallows, all the while his eyes feast, awakening
my simmering desire under his scrutiny. I feel the weight of his gaze—it
touches me in my heart, and in the pulse it ignites in my blood. I follow
a myriad of emotions as they pass through his features; there is passion
and playfulness, only to be overcome by a frisson of anxiety. Closing his eyes,
closing out everything, he very subtlety shifts his head down and to the
side. 

“Colin.” He startles at the sound of my voice, eyelids
snapping open to regard me once more. “Make me feel everything. Make me feel so
good the only thing I'll remember is this night and you.”

His gaze fans over my hair, splayed above my head on the
couch, and down to the remnants of the robe still covering my shoulders.
Thoughts flitter across his face as his expression changes, a troubled brow to
relaxed ease. It's as if in these few seconds he’s made a choice and with it,
he slips his fingers under the parted opening, helping me slide free of the
terry cloth to lie naked before him.

Leaning down, he captures my mouth and demands my tongue to
respond, bold and reckless, challenging my need to match his. I’m with him,
meeting his desperation with my own. I struggle to pull him closer, diving into
his hair, tugging on it and then his shirt. We devour each other in our
urgency, frantic for what comes next. Breathless, he breaks free, kneeling up,
his fingers taking over for mine as they fumble against the buttons.
In seconds he pulls it free from his wide
shoulders and I reach for his pants, but his hands cover mine.

“Not here; not like this,” he says and then I’m in his arms,
held against him as he walks to the other room to lay me on the mattress like
I’m breakable. His gaze is intense as he stands, his chest rising and falling
with each deep breath. A silent promise extends between us; tonight we give
ourselves freely to take, to feel, to let go and live in the moment.

Pulling at his belt, he releases the buckle and then the
clasp of his pants, bending to free himself from the confines of clothes. For
the first time, I have an unhindered view of Colin McKenna.
He's lean, muscles clearly defining his
stomach in a chiseled pathway traversing into a small smattering of hair
framing his erection.
Holy shit.
He’s big, long and thick. Instantly, I
worry about the pain, and my heart accelerates, but I push the thought aside.
I’ll deal with it when the time comes. 

I raise my hand, silently urging him to join me. 

“Protection,” he says reaching for his bag.

“I’m protected.
Birth
control.” I can feel warmth spread on my cheeks, but he doesn’t hesitate.

Climbing on the bed, he kneels between my legs and pushes
them apart. His hands glide up, skimming my hips and stomach and up to my
breasts. Watching for my reaction, he palms them, a light touch rubbing back
and forth until the tips peak, almost painful in their sensitivity. My lips
part, but I can't speak. I can only watch and feel and breathe through the
taunting ache growing between my thighs.
Dipping
his head, he licks and kisses me everywhere, murmuring his appreciation into my
skin:
 
beautiful, soft, mine.
His words calm any nerves threatening
to break free.

This is different than I imagined; I am different. I’ve never
given myself to someone in this way—wholly, without doubt or sorrow, with
freedom to welcome every touch and explore in return. I’m consumed with knowing
him intimately. I allow my fingers to find their way, anticipating the smallest
place, the lightest brush that will elicit the rush of his breath or the
passion to flare in his eyes.

It’s more than I ever thought it could be. The bunch of his
muscles beneath my hands, the heat of his skin warming my own, and the long
drag of his tongue as he tastes every inch of my body. He leaves nothing
untouched. Nuzzling the sensitive dip behind my ear and along my neck, the side
of my breast and down to the curved indentation at my waist, his lips tickle,
extracting a smile when he nips with his teeth. Nothing is unscathed and
everywhere is cherished.

I almost convulse when he grabs my nipple between his teeth,
biting and then lapping at it with his tongue. Finally, he sucks hard,
hallowing his cheeks as he takes me in. I feel the miracle of his mouth, not
just on my breast, but radiating everywhere and settling in a heavy pulse in my
clitoris. He doesn’t let up, licking, biting, sucking . . .
Oh, my
.

Brazened by the erotic sensation, I grab his erection. Silk
and steel, he melts into my hand as I stroke him. “Charlie,” he
hisses, temporarily stopping his sweet torture. Not sure exactly what to do, I
grip him, pushing from tip to the base and pulling back, rubbing my fingers
over the end in a caress.
I repeat the
movement and he falls to my breasts with a renewed vigor, licking, biting,
sucking, until the pulse is a throb and I’m squirming beneath him.

“Enough.”
Pinning both of
my arms above my head, h
is mouth crushes mine, kissing me until I’m sure
it’s turned into tomorrow.

Rolling to his side, his free hand trails from above my head
along my underarm and cheek, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. For a moment he
stares at my mouth before capturing my eyes.

“I’m going to touch you, Charlie. Make you burn for me; only
for me.”
Oh, I am.
I’m on fire.
His touch leaves a burning wake just as promised, moving down, down to the most
sensitive place nestled between my thighs.

I know where he’s going and what he’s going to do, but I’m
not prepared when he fingers my clitoris. Gasping, I squeeze my eyes shut
and shudder.

A low moan from the back of his throat settles in the air as
he explores me for the first time. “Open your legs. I want to see you.”
Oh,
God.
I let them fall open, and he
weighs one down with his knee, effectively holding me still. He teases,
circling, moving around and around, flicking over and over. It feels so good.
He
 
feels so good. My body is building,
burning as promised, when he changes direction, sliding down and slipping
inside of me.

“Ahh.”
I cry as
he glides in and out. My brain registers that on some level, his touch
doesn’t hurt: he's pure pleasure. 

“God, you’re tight.”
He
groans and watches as I bow from the bed.

“Please, Colin,” I beg for something, anything, to alleviate
the pounding beat his mouth and hand have created. His thumb finds my clitoris
as he slips in a second finger, filling and stretching, feeling against the
inside wall of my body, hitting a sweet, sweet spot each time he enters. Every
ounce of my being is begging for relief. Tugging against the hand that binds me
I try to move—I want to, I need to. Pinned down, my only recourse is to flex
and roll my hips, and pull up the one knee I have control over. Letting it fall
open wider, I push up to bring him deeper, faster. Over and over again I meet
him, becoming wild with desire. He groans and kisses me, his tongue plundering
my mouth in time with his fingers.

“Please,” I whimper.
Leaning
back, he watches, his own lips parting as he rubs his palm against me. It’s my
undoing. Embracing the inexplicable longing I explode into a million, shattered
pieces, screaming his name as I come.

Panting and boneless, I barely recognize he’s released
my hands. Raised on his elbows, he rests them on either side of my shoulders,
his body becoming a frame, protective and possessive. Nestling between my
thighs, his erection presses in position to enter me. 

His eyes, dark with longing, lock with mine.
They’re midnight blue and heavy lidded,
filled with passion. I’m not afraid of him or of the pain that’s sure to come.
I want to give myself to him. His mouth hovers close, taking in my panted
breath as the tip of his erection sinks, spreading and preparing my body to
take him.

“I want you,” I whisper.

“Charlie,” he breathes, sliding in an inch more, “baby.”
Molding his lips onto mine he pushes
forward, gliding deep, pausing only when I've taken him fully. I gasp and it
reverberates between us. He's big, stretching and filling me completely.
There’s joy in this moment, my body welcoming, expanding to hold him.
It feels so good.
He feels so good.

Resting his forehead on mine, he lets out a low growl from
the back of his throat.
I close my
eyes, allowing myself a moment to appreciate the perfect fit, but it’s not
enough. I long for him to move, so I roll my hips, grinding against him.

His shoulders shake as the low rumble of his laugh reaches my
ears. Nipping my bottom lip, he presses a light kiss to my mouth. “Give me a
second, baby, or this will be over before we both want it to be.” Taking my sigh
into him, he focuses on my mouth, kissing me until I’m breathless.

Our
connection deepens as he rises onto his hands. I clench around him in response,
and his nostrils flair, breath escalating even before he begins to move. My
fingers trail along his shoulders and down his arms, following the definition
of his muscles as they flex beneath my touch.

“I
can’t get enough,” he says. “Even being inside of you is not enough. I need to
own every part of you.”

He throws his head back as he pulls out, and I know we both
feel the glide, exquisite and necessary.
Lifting
my hips from the bed I try to force his reentry but he's entirely in control.
Waiting another heartbeat, he slides in again. I groan when he pulls back and
finds a gentle rhythm, moving in and out. He licks his lips and I drape my arms
around his neck, using him as leverage to lift up and kiss him.

“So good. It’s too good . . .” he mumbles against my mouth.
And it is. So intense and so good my toes curl as I wrap my legs around his
backside. I’m close to overwhelmed, the feel of him buried in me, knowing I’m
really here in this moment, and his voice whispering in my ear to
 
hold on, don’t hold back, give me
everything
. . .
I almost can’t
hold on, falling deeply into every sensation and losing myself in them. 

I’ve never done this with someone and felt connected in every
possible way, not just physically, but emotionally. A rush, a warmth spreads
out from my chest at the realization that this is my beginning—a spring in the
middle of winter, the ending of a chapter and the start of another, with Colin
as the central character. Right here, in his bed, clarity reigns as his mouth
claims mine again, teasing out a moan so he can claim that too. He owns me. I
would give him anything. Take it, take all of me, take everything and anything.
And he does, wringing out every ounce of pleasure. He knows where to touch, how
to extract the smallest whimper and the largest groan. I could never tire of
being with him, with him over me and in me, pushing, pulling, driving and
devouring until the ache becomes a need. A need so intense and all consuming, I
begin taking from him. Calling out unabashedly to
 
move faster, go deeper, push harder
.
Don’t stop, never stop, never stop making me feel this good and needy and so,
so full.
Please
, I beg. Pleading with him, pleading for I don’t know
what . . .

Pushing off of his shoulders, I fall to the bed and he
follows, his head dipping to my nipple. Taking me into his mouth, he teases
with his tongue and bites down, hard, only releasing me when I gasp and clutch
his hair. But I don’t pull him away; I hold him in place. I want more. He does
it again and this time I go a little wild, raking my fingers down his back and
bucking my hips up to meet the increased pace of his.

Everything he’s doing is magnified in the pulse between my
thighs. It started as a slow flutter when he first entered me, but it’s built
into a steady cadence. I focus on the feeling of him. I’m climbing high, fast,
and he's coming with me. Throwing my head back, I relish in our connection,
kneading my fingers deeply into his back, his muscles flexing with control as
he pushes me to a place I’ve never known, didn’t know existed. 

I can see the moment when he loses it, loses himself as I
have done. Gone is the controlled restraint and in its place is a wild abandon.
Giving in to my demands, his hips thrust with a determined pace, driving
forward, pushing harder until each strike elicits a guttural grunt from him and
an exacting cry from me. Sweat pebbles on his brow, beading and rolling,
dropping to my chest where it slides between my breasts. I watch, fascinated,
as his eyes follow it down and the black of his pupils blur into the blue with
a need so powerful it would scare me if I didn’t feel the exact same way. 

My mouth finds his, licking and sucking and tasting. Who am
I, but a needy, hungry woman begging for the only thing that can save me?
Colin. Only him, it will always only be him. I give myself fully, joining him
in the freedom to feel beyond good, beyond words. 

“Don’t let me fall.” Sudden panic overtakes me as my body
threatens to tumble from a cliff.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “We’re going to fall
together. Come with me.” The whisper turns to a demand, forcing me to hold on
and together, we dive head first into an abyss of pleasure so deep and
plentiful we drown in it, breathe it, and live through it.