Chloe #2
I cry out and squeeze the fabric of his shirt in my hands as his fingers curl inside me. His movements quicken as I shiver against his body. I can’t decide if I think the question is rhetorical or not because my pussy feels like it’s fucking weeping, and I feel like I’m levitating.
“Hmm?” he prods.
Not rhetorical. Got it.
“The chase, yes,” I stammer through jilted breaths, gripping his shoulders and lifting my leg over his hip.
“Yeah?” He drags his fingers lazily back and forth, the movement teasing, just on the edge of giving me what I want. “Thinking about getting away, or what’s going to happen when you’re caught?”
I let out a breathy groan when the curling begins again before I can answer. “You can run as far and as fast as you want, Chloe. There is never a world where I don’t follow. No world where I don’t find you.”
His hands are off me in a flash as he drops toward the ground, and my pussy is on fire for release as he stares up at me with a hooded gaze.
I take my lip between my teeth, squeezing my thighs together, watching as he slowly slides his palms up my legs, under my dress, against my thighs until my clit is pulsing with need, the emptiness inside me so painfully obvious.
My entire body shakes as he stands to his full height and bunches my flimsy dress at my hips.
His movements are jerky as he thrusts his hips against me and hikes my thigh over his hip again, pressing his hard length into my bare, soaking center.
We’re skin to skin, and my cunt glitters desperately to be full of him, to feel the length of him driving against my insides.
My head falls back into the tree, the rough bark pulling my hair and digging into my back, but I barely feel it.
All I feel are his bright eyes coasting across my flushed skin and his tight grip bruising my thigh.
“We’re falling.” His whisper against my lips is a warning, maybe to me. Maybe more to himself.
Still, I know what he’s referring to: the precipice. The looming edge. The weightless descent to the below with no landing in sight. No red X Marks the Spot or Land Here to Avoid Certain Demise.
The sign by the edge of the sharp cliff where rocks and pebbles are tumbling over says Last Chance to Turn Around. And its letters are gold and green like the swirl in Colin’s heated gaze. The post is slanted in the ground like his hard body against mine.
But I’ve been waiting at this ledge for a long time. Kicking pebbles over and watching them fly off. Glaring at that sign and whining I don’t want to turn around, you nitwit, I want him to find me here.
“We’ll survive,” I promise, though I can’t be sure. But it’s enough for him, and as he drives into me, I toss my head against the rough bark behind me, a shuddering moan lashing through my throat.
“Colin, my God,” I grit out. He sinks his teeth into my neck.
“Your cunt was made for me, Chloe,” he drones, slowly—ever so fucking slowly—thrusting his hips back and forth. I’m expanding, the size of him ripping me open in blissful passes as my nails dig into his shoulders.
I’m still getting used to him using my first name at all, so used to him calling me Stark, but the way he says it now, like it’s the sweetest name he’s ever tasted, like each letter on his tongue is a prayer he’s forgotten to send to the heavens each night, it fuels me.
It brings me alive in ways I never thought I could live, and I angle my hips toward him, desperate for depth.
Hiking my leg into the bend of his elbow, he gives me exactly what I need, hitting a spot inside me that I don’t think has ever been touched before.
Or maybe a spot inside me that was meant only for him to find.
He buries his face in my neck as he fucks me, moaning and groaning and whispering sweet-everythings against my skin while his thumb finds my clit and swirls in smooth, slick movements.
“Every time I followed you, touched you, this is what I thought about. What it would be like to wrap your pretty little pussy around my cock.”
My nipples sharpen against the fabric of my dress, achingly sensitive with each taut stretch of the thin cotton.
“That sounds like a conflict of interest, detective,” I tease.
My words come choppy and breathy, but they seem to drive him.
His pace turns punishing, and that scratchy bark against my back?
I can feel it now. Every drag against my skin brings my orgasm closer and closer as Colin winds his hand up into my hair and forces my forehead forward against his.
“Look at me while I make you come,” he demands. He jerks my head when my eyes roll back. “Look at me, baby, and come apart all over my cock like a good girl.”
And oh my God, I fucking do. When my orgasm blasts through me, I can’t prevent my eyes from squeezing shut or the scream from barreling out of my throat.
The birds in the trees around us flap away, startled, and Colin keeps his hand gripped in my hair as he releases on a final moan that spirals so fast and tight through my eardrums, I can feel it buzzing in the pit of my stomach.
I feel every inch of him inside me as my pussy seizes around his length.
And when my feet finally touch the ground again, I crush my lips to his.
That settles it. This man is going to make me come for the rest of my life.