All I See Is You

9. Nicotine

Chapter nine

Nicotine

Quinn

I t only took us about fifteen minutes to get back to the ranch, but it might as well have been a lifetime. It didn’t help that Hux wouldn’t stop teasing me. Between his whisper-soft kisses, the gentle scrape of his rough hands on my thighs, the gravelly, hushed murmurs in my ear—my body zinged with desire and anticipation.

The main house was silent as I led Hux quietly through the back door. My heart thundered in my chest so loudly I'm surprised Hux didn’t hear it. Surprised the entire house didn’t hear it, to be honest. But we made it to the room I was staying in without incident.

“Here we are,” I said, turning on the light and leading him into the middle of the room. I dropped his hand, a flood of nerves slamming into me so hard it made me falter. What if… what if I didn’t have enough experience? What if I sucked? What if I left him disappointed? He was older than me, after all, and most likely more experienced.

My doubts withered away like ash on the wind as he reached for me. And then his lips were on mine, an intensity in his touch and kiss that left me breathless. My hands trailed over the planes of his muscled chest before sliding up around his neck. I pulled off his cowboy hat, spearing the fingers of my free hand into his dark shoulder-length hair.

He pulled away enough to warn, “Make sure not to put the brim side down.”

“Why?” I asked, a frown sneaking its way onto my face. That’s exactly how I had planned to put it down.

“Cowboy tradition. It brings bad luck. Just don’t do it.” His words weren’t harsh, but there was a sense of urgency to his tone.

Breaking out of his grip, I placed it down the proper way on my nightstand and returned to him, gazing up at his face and frowning once more. Tentatively, I reached up toward his glasses. “Can I take these off?”

I hadn’t seen his eyes yet, and the need to see him fully—no hat, no sunglasses—well, it burned so fiercely I couldn’t ignore it.

He hesitated, a muscle in his jaw clenching, but after a moment he offered a single, curt nod. I went slowly, carefully as I pulled the sunglasses off, folded them, and placed them on the nightstand. He blinked a few times, his gaze settling in my direction.

Holy God, he was handsome.

I traced my fingertips along the corner of his brow, taking in everything about his beautifully chiseled features. His eyes—they were like twin pools of liquid amber, swirling with flecks of random gold.

“Your eyes are the same color as whiskey,” I murmured.

He chuckled. “Beats shit-brown, I guess.”

I scoffed. “Who said you have shit-brown eyes?” They were absolutely not .

“My dad.”

“Well, he’s an idiot,” I blurted out before clapping a hand over my mouth. Oh my God, did I really just say that out loud ?

But if Hux was offended he didn’t let on. In fact, he laughed, the sound a deep rumble in his throat. Both of his hands moved to my hips before gliding up my body—following the curves of my waist, along the outsides of my breasts. His rough fingertips scraped gently along my chest as he trailed them up the column of my neck before finally cupping my jaw. The movement was slow, measured, as if he were memorizing every inch of me.

My breath left me in a whoosh, my legs turning all wobbly as a wave of desire so great, so terrifying, and yet so exhilarating swept through that I feared it might knock me out completely.

His lips twitched upward, but genuine curiosity rang in his words. “You like that?”

I nodded, biting my bottom lip as I tried to get my bearings and form a response. “The way you touched me…it’s like you’re trying to learn my body.”

What the hell was I even saying? Did that make any sense? Probably not.

Hux laughed, though, pressing a whisper-soft caress to my lips before moving on to the corner of my mouth, then my chin, my jaw. “That’s exactly—” A string of kisses along my cheekbone. “What I’m—” The gentlest touch of his lips to my nose. “Tryin’ to do.” He finished with the softest ghost of a kiss to my forehead.

Tears welled in my eyes. How was it possible that his admission both saddened me beyond measure and filled me with so much burning need? It was the ultimate paradox. He couldn’t see me, had no idea what I looked like, and yet, I felt more desired, more wanted, more seen than I ever had in my life.

No one had ever touched me, kissed me, caressed me like that.

I wrapped my fingers around his wrists while he still held my face. “More,” I whispered.

I wanted him to do so much more.

It’s like a chord in him snapped, whatever restraint holding him back vanishing entirely. One of his hands knotted in my hair, and he pulled it enough to tear a moan from my lips. His mouth clashed with mine, his tongue brushing past my lips and demanding entrance. I gave in—happily, wholeheartedly, enjoying the possessive hold he had on me. Not breaking the kiss, I guided him slowly back to the bed, stopping when my legs came into contact with the edge. Pulling back, I tugged at his shirt, wanting—no, needing to see more of him. He had too much on. I wanted it off.

He obliged me, breaking contact long enough to rip his shirt off. I only had a moment to admire the expanse of tan skin, tattoos, and rippling muscles before he leaned in for me once more, but what I saw stole my breath. God, he was cut.

“Holy God,” I breathed. “You’re gorgeous.”

He smirked, a grunt of approval rumbling in his chest. Then his hands found my shirt, and he pulled it off slowly, inch by inch—his hands roving over each and every curve of my torso and chest once he’d pulled it off. He pushed me back gently, a silent demand to sit, and I obeyed. His fingers trailed down my hips and along my legs before he pulled off each white cowboy boot and sock, using the same measured movements as before. This time he peppered kisses to my legs as well, the feel of his scruff teasing and tickling the sensitive skin of my thighs.

I writhed beneath him, a little moan falling from me as my body melted beneath his touch. I laid back on the bed when his hands found my waist, feeling their way for the button and zipper of my shorts. Lifting my hips, I helped him shimmy the fabric over the curve of my ass until I finally laid before him in nothing but my favorite black bra and thong.

I waited for the nerves. The trickle of typical fear. I’d always been a bit self-conscious. But the worry and fear never came. Not as he knelt before me and pressed a kiss to my inner thigh—like I was some sort of goddess he worshiped. Desire flickered throughout every inch of me, stoking the fires of my soul.

A sharp gasp wrenched out of me as my nerves ignited like fireworks. His warm breath tickled my skin as he chuckled in approval, his kisses continuing their dangerous path toward the apex of my thighs. It was too much. Too much tension. Too much teasing. And he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Hux,” I breathed, my chest rising and falling to a fast, shallow rhythm.

He paused, kneeling between my legs. “Do you not want this?”

“No, I do. I just—I’ve never done this before.”

He stilled, hands poised firmly on my thighs. “Are you a virgin?”

“No!” I replied quickly. Too quickly from the look of silent worry that blossomed across his face. Oh God, I was making a mess of this, wasn’t I? “No, I’m not,” I began again as I sat up and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the sudden nerve to cover myself. “I’m not a virgin. I’ve just—”

“No one’s gone down on you before?” He asked the question so casually it gave me pause. My cheeks burned with heat and, honestly, I was glad that he couldn’t see me at that moment.

My only experience with anything involving intimacy was Devin, and he wasn’t the most, well, intimate of lovers. I mean, we waited over a year before actually doing the deed, and then even once we did, it was infrequent at best. Which sounded really weird now, being that most of the photos on social media of him and his new fiancé showed them all over each other.

But that was so not what I wanted to think about right now.

I looked at Hux and nodded, but he didn’t reply. Because— “Oh God, I’m sorry. I did it again. I nodded and you didn’t see.” I groaned, pursing my lips together painfully tight for a moment as a wave of guilt washed over me, fizzling out some of the desire. God, I was really making a mess of this, wasn’t I? “Ugh, that sounded awful. I’m so sorry.”

Hux let out a low, throaty chuckle and I just about died. Of course, I’d manage to take a hot, steamy moment and pour ice cold water onto it. If my cheeks had burned before, I wouldn’t be surprised if I burst into flames from embarrassment.

Way to fucking go, Quinn. I groaned, falling back against the bed. But the groan turned to a gasp as Hux’s hands tugged on my thong, sliding it slowly down my legs as he took his time caressing my skin as he did so.

I pushed up onto my elbows, glancing down at him. “What are—” My words fell away, dying in my throat as every nerve ending sang to life inside of me when he pressed his mouth to my clit. I cried out, my elbows giving way as I fell back against the bed. My eyelids slammed shut at the onslaught of desire surging through me. Holy God, I burned. Every inch of me felt hot and tight, like my skin had become too small for my body almost.

He used those same measured, teasing strokes with his tongue as he had while exploring my body with his hands and lips moments ago. And each stroke. Each brush. Each lap of his tongue was like adding more kindling to a bonfire. I burned. Brighter. Hotter. Higher. So high that I didn’t think I could go any higher. I hung there, poised on the precipice of my desire.

My fingertips held a death grip on the bed sheets and it took everything in me to simply breathe . My heart heaved and battered around in my chest, thumping so hard I thought it might crack a rib or something. I’d never felt anything like this. It was almost too much. Too much sensation and tension and desire. It hurt from the intensity, but a good kind of hurt. The kind that bordered right on that line between pleasure and pain.

“Hux,” I breathed, forcing myself up onto my elbows once more as his tongue continued its delicious punishment.

His whiskey brown gaze snapped up to mine, and even though I know it wasn’t possible, it’s like his stare was focused solely on me. "Come for me, darlin'." Gaze still somehow locked with mine, he slid a finger inside of me, dragging his tongue over my clit in a slow, steady pressure that sent me hurtling over the edge.

I cried out as my orgasm erupted through me like an explosion. Every inch of me ignited, seared, burned as he pumped his finger inside of me, lapping at my pussy, prolonging that wildfire raging within me for what felt like an eternity. And as the flames slowly ebbed and withered away, as the heat licking at every inch of me started to subside, his mouth and hand left my core. But the touches didn’t stop. They shifted.

"Good girl," he cooed, trailing his hands and mouth up over my hips, along my torso, before cupping a breast in one of his calloused hands, the gentle scrape of them against my skin sending a jolt of desire through me.

A weak moan fell from my lips. He chuckled once more and I felt his body settle beside mine, but I couldn’t open my eyes. It was as if every inch of me had turned to mush. Like that orgasm had taken everything out of me. All I could do was just lay here and… feel .

Hux’s voice in my ear was little more than a gravelly whisper. “Did you like that?”

I nodded. Words seemed so far away at the moment.

A soft laugh rumbled from him. “I’m gonna take your silence as enjoyment, unless you say otherwise, darlin’.”

I forced my eyes open and found him propped up on an elbow beside me, his amber gaze aimed my way once more, but not focused on my face.

“That was…” I let out a content sigh. “I’ve never felt anything like that ever in my life.”

“Have you ever come before?” The words weren’t asked with condescension or judgment, just mere curiosity.

“Not like that,” I said on a breathy sigh. Never like that.

“You want that again?”

And maybe it was the husky tone of his voice or the way his fingertips traced patterns over my side and teased the outer swell of my breast, but desire sparked low in my belly once more.

I pressed a hand to his tan, muscular chest. He had a tattoo right over his heart. A beautifully drawn black and white cow skull with some sort of snake slithering through one of the eyeholes. Connected to it, but looking like it had been carved out of his flesh was the outline of the state of Texas with an image of pastures in the outline. I wanted to trace my fingers over it, as well as the others marked into his flesh. His right arm was almost fully sheathed in more black and white artwork that I’d love to admire.

Later though. Right now I had more pressing matters to attend.

“What about you?” I asked, my fingers moving down his torso and toward his waist.

I watched his muscles ripple and flex at my feather-soft touches. He inhaled sharply. “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’. Right now it’s all about you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that—from the way he called me darlin’ to how invested he was in my pleasure. I can’t say I’d ever been treated like this, but I could definitely get used to it. Though, as interested as I was in letting him continue his teasing, I wanted to give back as well. So, with newfound confidence, I brushed a hand over the front of his jeans, feeling the hard swell of his cock beneath the fabric.

“I want you to fuck me, please.”

His resolve broke, shattering the cool calm he held on his facial features. Need and hunger shone in his light, amber gaze before he leaned in and consumed me in a soul-shattering, time-stopping kiss.