Chapter 8
EIGHT
COLT
I wake before dawn, the way I always do, but this time there’s a soft, warm weight draped across my chest. Willa.
Her blonde hair spills over my shoulder like silk, her breath steady and slow against my neck.
One leg hooked over mine, her thigh pressed to my hip.
She’s naked—completely, gloriously naked—because after last night I couldn’t stand the thought of anything between us, not even my flannel.
My cock is already hard, aching from the feel of her skin, the faint scent of sex and pine that clings to both of us. But it’s more than that. Way more.
I’ve fucked before. Plenty. Quick, rough, meaningless.
Never like this. Never where every touch felt like it was carving something permanent into my bones.
Last night wasn’t just sex. It was claiming.
It was surrender. Hers and mine. And waking up with her like this—trusting, soft, mine—hits me square in the chest with something I haven’t felt in years. Maybe never.
Love.
The word lands heavy, primal. Not the soft, Hallmark kind. The kind that makes a man want to burn the world down to keep one woman safe. The kind that says she’s under my roof, in my bed, wearing my marks on her thighs and my cum still inside her, and I’d kill to keep it that way.
I shift carefully, sliding out from under her.
She murmurs something sleepy, reaching for me even half-conscious.
My heart does something stupid—squeezes, expands, fucking aches.
I scoop her up before she can wake fully.
Arms under her knees and back, easy as breathing.
She’s light, warm, pliant. Her head lolls against my shoulder, lips brushing my collarbone.
“Colt?” Her voice is thick with sleep, sweet.
“Shower, baby,” I murmur against her temple. “Gonna clean you up. Then I’m gonna love on you again. Slow this time. Let you feel every inch.”
She hums, arms looping around my neck. “Mmm. Yes, please.”
The bathroom is small, but the shower’s big enough for two, with a rain head I installed myself last summer.
I set her on the counter while I crank the water hot, steam already curling into the air.
She watches me, eyes heavy-lidded, lips swollen from last night.
Bruises fading on her ribs, but the ones I left on her hips last night are fresh—faint purple fingerprints I’ll kiss better later.
I step between her thighs, cupping her face, and kiss her slowly. Deep. No rush. Just tasting her, letting her wake up to me.
“You feel that?” I whisper against her mouth. “That’s me owning you, darlin’. Every breath. Every heartbeat. You’re mine now. No going back.”
She shivers, thighs parting wider. “I don’t want to go back.”
“Good girl.”
I lift her again, carry her under the spray. Hot water cascades over us, soaking her hair, running in rivulets down her breasts, her stomach, between her legs. She gasps at the heat, then melts against me, slick skin sliding against slick skin.
I back her to the tile wall, one hand braced above her head, the other cupping her ass to hold her up. My cock notches against her entrance—still swollen, still wet from last night and fresh arousal.
“Look at me,” I say, voice low. “Watch Daddy slide back inside that perfect little pussy. Watch how you take me.”
Her eyes flutter open, hazy with want. I push in slow—agonizingly slow—inch by thick inch. She’s tight, hot, fluttering around me like she’s trying to pull me deeper. We both groan when I bottom out, hips flush to hers.
“Fuck, baby,” I breathe. “So goddamn tight. Still feel me from last night? Feel how I stretched you open? How I filled you up?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, nails digging into my shoulders. “Colt… so full.”
I start to move—long, deliberate strokes. Pulling almost all the way out, then sinking back in deep. The water makes everything slicker, hotter. Every glide is torture and heaven.
“You’re so wet for me,” I growl against her ear. “Dripping down my cock even with the shower running. Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Can’t get enough of Daddy’s dick.”
She moans, head falling back against the tile. “More. Please. Harder.”
“Not yet.” I nip her throat, then soothe it with my tongue. “Gonna take my time with you. Gonna make you come slow. Gonna feel every flutter when you fall apart around me.”
I angle my hips, grinding against her clit with every thrust. She cries out, legs tightening around my waist. One hand slides between us—I thumb her clit in slow circles while I fuck her deep and steady.
“That’s it,” I praise. “Ride it, darlin’. Ride Daddy’s cock. Let me feel how much you love being stuffed full of me.”
Her breath hitches, body trembling. “Colt—I’m close—”
“Come for me, baby. Come all over this thick cock. Milk me dry. Show me how good I make you feel.”
She shatters—quiet this time, but intense. Her walls clamp down, pulsing, pulling me deeper. I groan, fighting not to follow her yet. I want this to last.
I keep moving through her aftershocks, slower now, kissing her open-mouthed, swallowing her soft whimpers.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” I tell her. “Face all flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy. Never seen anything prettier. Never felt anything better.”
She smiles, dazed, fingers threading through my wet hair. “Your turn. Come inside me again. Please. I want to feel it.”
Christ.
I pick up the pace—just enough. Deep, rolling thrusts that make her gasp every time I bottom out. Water pounds our skin. Steam clouds the glass.
“Gonna fill you up, darlin',” I rasp. “Gonna pump you so full you’ll be dripping me for days. Mark you from the inside out. You want that? Want Daddy’s cum deep in that sweet virgin pussy I claimed?”
“Yes—God, yes—”
I bury my face in her neck, teeth grazing her pulse. One last hard thrust and I’m gone—coming hard, pulsing deep inside her, groaning her name like a prayer. She clenches around me again, milking every drop, and it feels like my soul leaves my body for a second.
We stay locked together under the spray until the water starts to cool. I ease out slow, careful, then turn off the shower. Grab a towel, wrap her in it, lift her again like she’s fragile glass even though I know she’s not.
Back in the bedroom I dry us both, gentle now. Lay her down on clean sheets. Climb in beside her, pull her close. Her head on my chest, leg thrown over mine again.
“I love you,” I say. Quiet. Certain. The words feel right. Necessary.
She tilts her head up, eyes shining. “I love you too.”
I kiss her forehead. “We’re getting that evidence to Hank tomorrow. Ending this. Then you decide what’s next. But whatever it is, you’re not doing it without me.”
She smiles, sleepy and soft. “Good. Because I’m not leaving this mountain—or you—unless you’re coming with me.”
I tighten my arms around her. Never felt anything like this. Never will again.
She’s it.
My woman.
My home.
And I’m all in.