Free Blur (Changing Colors Book 2) by N.A. Alcorn Page A

buckling beneath me, but he’s there, gripping one of my legs and lifting it over his shoulder.
    Dylan kneels before me, one strong hand grips the thigh resting on his shoulder—simultaneously steadying and spreading me—while the other hand lifts my dress, exposing my panties. The throbbing builds, reaching my spine, and morphing into shivers rolling up my back and down my arms.
    And I’m wet, so very wet. The night air feels even cooler against the damp material between my thighs.
    His lashes shadow his face as they sweep down. His hooded gaze peruses my body, gliding across my exposed skin.
    I’m desperate for him to touch me. There’s no way I’ll stop this—I want him too badly.
    Need him.
    Crave him.
    Long fingers slip inside my panties, tugging them to the side. His thumb brushes through my wetness. “Fuck, Brooke. Your pussy is begging for this, for me.” He inhales a sharp breath. “Please, don’t tell me to stop. Let me taste you, love. Let me feel you against my tongue.”
    “Don’t stop,” I gasp, gripping his hair with both of my hands.
    “ Fuck ,” he groans as his finger slips inside of me, thumb rubbing my clit.
    My body shakes, practically screaming, Yes. Now. Please. But he takes his time, watching my response to his touch with a headiness that makes my world spin. I feel high, high off him, off what he can do to me. No one else has made me feel this way.
    I know no one could ever make me feel this.
    Even when he’s angry, taking his frustration out on my body, teeth nipping at my skin until I’m breaching the painfully pleasurable cliff, his touch still means more than anyone else’s.
    His mouth sucks at the inside of my thigh, before biting down hard enough to mark me. “Tell me you want this.”
    “Yes,” I moan.
    “Tell me you need this.”
    “Yes.”
    “Tell me you feel it, Brooke.”
    “God, yes,” I whimper. My grip on his hair grows tighter, hips circling towards his face. I’m desperate for his mouth. “I feel it, Dylan. I’ll always feel it.”
    I feel his smile against my skin as he nuzzles my thigh. I should be mad, pissed off over the fact that he’s getting me to say things while I’m unraveling from what he’s doing to my body, but I can’t seem to find the headspace. I only have one priority, one sole focus, and it’s him.
    I want to feel him, everywhere .
    Between one breath and the next, his head is buried between my spread thighs. Dylan’s mouth presses against me, licking and sucking at my clit, in rhythm with the finger plunging inside. I can vaguely make out voices and laughter in the distance, reminding me of how very exposed I am.
    Anyone could walk back here and find us.
    What would they think if they found Dylan on his knees, my dress sitting at my waist, while his head moves between my thighs?
    What would they think if they saw just how far gone I really am? My fingers gripping his hair, hips moving against his tongue. Head tilted back, eyes glazed and desperate for more.
    I’m lost to this, to him.
    “Yes, Brooke. Fuck my mouth, baby. Let that perfect pussy ride my tongue.”
    “ Oh god…” My eyelids flutter closed. I’m drunk off him. I’m so fucking close that I’m seeing stars.
    “No one else but me, Brooke. No one else but me can do this to you, give this to you,” he says before sucking at my clit—hard and rough—and it’s enough to push me over the edge. I fall hard, coming against his mouth. I bite my cheek to fight the shouts and screams and cries of pleasure threatening to bubble up from my throat.
    My body starts to sag from the intensity, but he’s gripping my hips, lifting me up and pressing my back into the wall. My thighs wrap around his waist. One hand grips my ass while the other works his jeans. He springs free, hard and straining between us.
    “I need…God…Dylan…” I’m begging, feeling too empty.
    His shirt brushes across my nipples, as he strokes his large cock, once, twice, and then holds it at the