CHAPTER 22 #2
“Beg me to let you slide those fingers under so we can both see you dripping down your thighs as you touch yourself.”
“Please, Colt.” I stared up at him, and I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “Please let me touch my pussy for you.”
“Fuck.” His hand moved faster as he fixed himself more securely on the ladder, then his other hand was on my knee, spreading me farther open until my thighs pressed into the metal.
“Move those bottoms, Blaire. Let me see what’s always been mine.”
My hand shook uncontrollably as I yanked the fabric aside and slid two fingers through my pussy. My spine arched, and a sound tore from my throat I didn’t recognize.
“Christ, Blaire,” he snarled, his forearm flexing savagely as he worked himself beneath the water. “Look at you. So fucking wet. I’m going to come watching you fuck yourself for me.”
My thighs convulsed as I drove my fingers lower, pushing them inside me, and the obscene slick sounds cut through the night.
“Do you want to fuck yourself for me, baby?”
“Yes,” I exhaled, and my legs started to close, but Colt stopped them.
“Wider,” he gently commanded, and I forced them back apart. “Show me everything I’ve been starving for.”
A sound between a sob and a moan escaped me as I forced my knees apart again until I was completely exposed, vulnerable and desperate. The only thing left between us was need. Colt’s whole body went taut, muscles straining from the effort of holding himself back, but he couldn’t do it anymore.
A guttural, feral growl ripped from his chest, echoing over the water and making the hair stand up on every inch of my body. My fingers slid through my wetness, gently skimming my clit, and every move sent another shudder through my core.
Colt’s breath came in ragged, broken gasps. His eyes were locked on me, and his hand worked furiously, sending water crashing against the dock. I could hear him, hear the slick, frantic sound of his fist, and the knowledge that he was losing it because of me made my head spin.
He dragged his gaze up from my thighs to my face, and I nearly flinched from the burn of it. “Perfect,” he rasped. “Give me those fingers.” He was pleading now, the arrogance stripped away, and there was something so raw and broken in the way he said it, like he needed this as much as I did.
With a shaking hand, I slid my fingers through the drenched heat of my pussy and withdrew them, glistening and slick, the air shocking on my skin.
Colt reached for me so fast he almost lost his balance on the ladder, and his slick hand wrapped around my wrist like a shackle.
His entire body vibrated with barely contained restraint as he yanked my hand toward him, hard enough that my body jerked forward on the dock.
Then his mouth was on my fingers, hot and soft and relentless. He sucked them between his lips, tongue swirling.
The sight of it, the feel of his mouth, the heat of his breath, the pressure of his tongue lapping the taste of me from my shaky hand, sent a pulse of molten want straight through my stomach. My hips rocked forward, chasing the friction, and my free hand clawed at the weathered planks of the dock.
Colt never took his eyes off me as his entire world narrowed to the taste of me and the need to have more. There was such a reverence in the way he looked down at me, and it undid me faster than anything else could.
He bit down softly, sending a shock of pain and pleasure up my nerves, and then dragged my fingers from his mouth with an excruciating slowness.
His teeth scraped over my knuckles, and my pulse hammered wildly beneath his grip.
“You have no fucking idea what that does to me,” he said, voice full of hunger.
“I’ve missed you, Blaire. Fuck, I’ve missed having you like this. ”
He let go of my wrist, then pressed his forehead to the inside of my thigh. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned, and I felt his tongue trace a slow, torturous line up to my knee. “I could eat you alive.”
A desperate sob tore from my throat as my fingers found my swollen clit, my hips bucking hard against my touch. “Colt?—”
“That’s it. Say my fucking name when you come. Remind us both who you belong to.” His arm flexed as he worked himself, his eyes watching me. “I’m right there with you. I’m going to come thinking about being buried deep inside this tight little pussy.”
I moaned so loud it seemed impossible no one in the valley could hear us. My hand moved with desperate, clumsy need, grinding up and down, fingers finding and circling my clit, making my body jerk uncontrollably.
I couldn’t look away from him. He was shaking, every muscle tensed, every breath a ragged snarl.
“Do you want that, Blaire?” he demanded, voice gone hoarse with need. “Do you want me to fuck you so deep you forget anyone else?”
“Yes,” I choked, the word barely more than a gasp. My head swam with the thought of him, the memory of his body on mine, the feel of him splitting me open, slow and rough and perfect.
“Then show me how bad you want it,” he panted, never looking away, hand moving fast and brutal against himself. “Show me you’ll do anything for it.”
I did. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to ruin him the way he ruined me. I slid my fingers down my pussy, so wet it was ridiculous, and watched him lick his lips as I dipped two fingers into myself. The sensation was overwhelming, and I cried out as I pushed them deeper and curved them just right.
I fell onto my back, and my other hand clawed at my thigh, nails digging into skin, needing an anchor as I fell apart.
Colt was losing it, his chest heaving. “That’s it.
I want to fuck you right now, but watching you touch yourself is making me come so goddamned hard—” He couldn’t finish.
He moaned, and the water around him erupted in frantic slaps as he jerked himself to the finish.
“Come for me, baby. Come all over those pretty fingers while you say my fucking name.”
I crashed over the edge, body bowing, mouth open with nothing but his name falling from my lips. Every muscle snapped tight as the orgasm ripped through me and left me boneless. My hand was trapped between my legs, spasming over my clit, and every wave was hotter and stronger than the last.
I could hear Colt’s shattered moan, feel the echo of it pulse through the dock and up over me.
“Let me see it. Let me hear it, Blaire,” Colt begged, and I wanted to give it to him, I needed to. So I forced myself to look at him, to let the pleasure twist my face, to let my hips grind against my palm. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I sobbed, unable to hold back even though I knew in the back of my mind I shouldn’t have said it.
The world blurred, my body bowing forward as heat and pressure still pulsed through me. “Colt.”
He roared my name as his whole body convulsed, pumping his cock hard as he came with me.
All I could hear was the sound of our rough breathing, the cicadas droning on like nothing had changed, like we hadn’t just fucked everything up.
His gaze pinned me in place, unblinking and raw, as he lowered his mouth to my knee. The brush of his lips there, so tender after everything, sent aftershocks through my limbs. I couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t slow my pulse.
Loving Colt Calloway had been as easy as breathing for most of my life, and I’d convinced myself that I could breathe without him.
He’d barely touched me, yet I was split wide open, my defenses shattered, my need for him raw and exposed.
I’d spent years hiding, and in one night, he’d reduced me to the aching, desperate truth that I had always been his.