39. Kiara
thirty-nine
Kiara
N ervous excitement courses through me as we take an early leave from our friends and drive to Sunrise Farms in separate cars. Colt opens the building door for me, cupping my waist as I brush past him. My breathing hitches, and he takes me in a kiss. Our tongues intertwine, the faint taste of beer on his lips barely hiding the unique taste of him. He hitches me on his hips and carries me up the stairs as I trail my mouth on his neck, relishing the saltiness of his skin.
“Keys,” he grunts, setting me down so I can search my bag. He wraps himself around my back, breathing heavily, hard against me.
The stupid keys are in my bag. I can hear them. They just seem to evade my grasp.
“Come on, babe,” he says gently as he trails one hand down between my legs.
I throw my head back. God this feels good. “Not helping, Colt.”
He moves his hand up, but the way he holds my hip is even sexier with the warmth of his palm penetrating through my clothes, and his fingers kneading with impatience. “Might need to take you right here, cupcake. Been a long day,” he growls against my neck.
My center clenches at his words, and finally I feel metal. “Got ’em, got ’em.”
With trembling fingers, I unlock my door, then Colton shuts it behind us and turns me to face him, his hands roaming my body up and down. I throw my jacket toward the couch, the faint glow of the side lamp I’ve left on enough to go by.
Colton hoists me on the kitchen counter, pulls my sweater off, and narrows his gaze on my breasts. “Let’s get rid of this,” he says, swiftly unclasping my bra. I shake it off, letting it land on the floor next to the sweater, then Colton flicks his tongue on my nipple—an agonizing tease. “Ah fucking hell, missed this all day. Jesus, Kiara—I’m obsessed with you, you know that?” He drags his mouth over the swell of my breast, suckling it so expertly I cry out in pleasure and clutch his hair. Laying me softly flat on my back against the cold kitchen counter, he licks his way to the other breast, cupping it for better access. His warm, rugged hands on my skin, his cold leather jacket molding his shoulders, and the pull of his mouth take me to the edge.
“If you keep doing this, I might come.” My voice is barely a breath. “You should… We should…”
He deepens his clamp on my breast, pleasure zinging from my nipple down to my center. My moans increase, mingling with the hum of the refrigerator and the creaking of his leather jacket. “Fuck,” he says in ragged breath.
I writhe under him. “I want you inside me, Colt.” He suckles harder on my nipple, making me arch under him. “Please, now.”
And in this moment, looking at him fully clothed losing his mind over me, I want to be naked under him. I snake my hands to my waist and unzip my jeans. “Take me now, Colt.”
“Ah, but you taste so good,” he says as he lifts slightly off me. “Come here,” he says, pulling me to him.
I try to resist, to stay right here, the sudden fantasy of having the daylights fucked out of me by Colton Harper on my very own kitchen counter the only goal at the moment. “Take out that big cock of yours and give it to me, baby. Take me.”
He peels the jeans off my hips, my panties with them. I lift my head to watch him free his cock, his metal belt buckle jingling lose. Then he tugs under my knees to bring my center against him, making me cry out in surprise. The warmth of his erect cock contrasts sharply with the cold surface under my back. I buck from the feeling of being at his mercy, totally exposed.
Leaning on his elbows, he cages me in, playing with my hair, his leather and laundry scent mixing faintly with oil and beer. All man . “Do you know how sexy you look, entirely naked for me?” he grunts.
I lick my lips. “Just about as sexy as you do in your hot leather jacket, ready to have your way with me.”
He dips lower and kisses my throat, smiling. “Oh, I see. It’s the leather jacket. Got it.”
My fingers in his hair, I arch my back. “Don’t tease me more, Colt. I’m gonna come and you won’t be inside me and that’ll be a waste of an orgasm.” I rub against him.
He reaches between us to flick my clit and grunts. “Soaking wet for me—and I only had the appetizer.” He dips a finger inside me, and I cry out in pleasure, then he brings his finger to his mouth, making a show of sucking my juices off. “Ah fuck, you taste so good.”
The scent of sex sets me off deeper. “Babe, please, I’m begging you…” I rub against the hard ridge of his cock, its softness and hardness a stark contrast to his jeans chafing my inner thighs.
“Show me,” he says, lifting my leg so it rests on his hip. “Show me how much you want me.”
I dig my heels in his butt.
“Atta girl, you ride that. Take your man.” I pull my legs in, and with a glorious grunt he thrusts inside me in one shot, filling me. “Fuck but you’re so tight. So tight.”
“Fuck me harder, Colt.”
“You sure?” he rasps.
I bring his face closer to me. “Listen to me cos I’m not gonna say it twice. I want you to fuck me like you just came out of twenty years in prison and you won me at an auction.”
He jerks his head back, surprise painted on his face, and for a fleeting moment I think he’s going to laugh—I even feel his dick hesitating—but thankfully that moment passes, a dark shadow passes through his gaze, his jaw clenches, and he realizes I’m serious.
“Twenty years, huh?” His thrusts accelerate.
“Yeah, babe,” I say, sliding my hands under his jacket and pulling his Henley up so I can rake his back. “Twenty years without pussy. And you get me. All to yourself.”
Sweat forms on his back with each of his thrusts. “Fucking hell. At an auction?”
“Yeah, babe. You won me at an auction.”
For a beat the only sound we make is the squelching of our joined sexes, the creaking of his jacket. I can almost hear him think. Then he says, “Tell me how that went.”
I swallow hard, the pleasure he’s giving me making it hard to speak. “I was on a stage… wearing almost nothing…” His powerful thrusts pin me against the hard countertop in rhythmic thuds, the absolute best. “And all these men were raising their paddles… but you… you… you wanted me the most so… you… you bid the highest.”
He locks eyes with me and stops moving inside me. “I did, huh. You bet I did.” He pulls out. “How much?” He pushes himself back in, and I moan, but he barely moves.
“More, Colt. More. In and out. More.”
He stops moving entirely. “How much did I bid on you?” His cock is twitching inside me, frustrating and pleasing me at the same time.
“Huh?”
He rolls my nipple, pulling on it slightly, his other hand holding his head like we’re having a casual conversation. “How much did I bid on you after twenty fucking years in prison?” He inches out of me, his tip at my entrance, an unbearable tease.
“Oh… A-a-a-a million dollars.”
“You bet I did.” And then he disappears and I’m left cold and alone, wondering what I did wrong, until he anchors his strong hands to my thighs and licks my clit.
No-no-no. I want him inside me. “Colt, please. Take me.”
“I been twenty fucking years without pussy, I spent a million dollars on this cupcake, I’m gonna do what I’m gonna do, sweets,” he growls while rubbing his nose against my clit.
Then he feasts on me until he brings me to the edge, his tongue teasing and circling, his fingers digging in my hips, his growls resonating inside me. When I’m about to come he lifts me as he stands and turns us so I’m against the fridge. “Slide that million-dollar pussy around my cock, you dirty little virgin,” he says as he pushes inside me.
He’s bigger and thicker than before, or maybe it’s the position, I don’t know, but I know he’s feeling it too because he’s losing it. In two quick movements his jacket is gone, the Henley is gone, and his glistening skin is against mine, our bodies tense and slick and demanding. “Come here, you little tease,” he says as he places one hand under my ass, touching my butthole. I squeeze in surprise. He slams a fist on the fridge as he powers in and out of me. “Atta girl. Show me what a million bucks gets me.”
I want to come and at the same time I don’t want the pleasure to stop. “Colt,” I say, deciding conversation is the way to extend this. “Colt. Babe.”
He throws his head back, his neck tense and dripping with sweat. I’m not sure he heard me.
“Babe, you know…” I start as he increases his thrusts.
But he brings his face back down, his eyes boring into mine, then he dips to my neck and suckles on it. This gets me crying out, “Colt!”
“That’s right, babe. My name on your lips when you come. I bought you at auction, ’member?” It’s his deep voice that sets me off. I think. Or the fact he’s playing the role of winner of the auction to a T. I bite his shoulder when I come, because the fridge is right next to the front door, and I discovered a few hours ago that I’m a screamer.
He grunts and shakes and grunts some more, then with a loud exhale, he grips me tighter and carries me to the bedroom, drops us both sideways, and cradles me while we catch our breaths. “Best auction ever,” he whispers.
My heart still beats like crazy from my orgasm. But more so from the way he wants me. It’s in the way he looks at me, the way he holds me, takes me, breathes me in.
“You know you can have this for free? All your life. Right?” I say, panting.
“Don’t cheapen yourself, sweets. Million bucks sex right there. Guaranteed. And the night is just beginning.”
Then he laughs and lifts me against his chest and moves us so our heads are on the pillows. He leans over to turn a side lamp on, and I instinctively bring the duvet to cover myself. “Are you cold?” he asks, lifting the duvet off me. His finger trails a path from the corner of my mouth to my neck, down between my breasts, then his palm flattens on my side and pulls me against him. “Mmm? Let me crank the heat up.”
“I’m good, Colt. Not cold.” Just a little self-conscious.
His gaze darkens. “You’re mine, sweets. I get to look at what’s mine. I get to savor it. Caress it. Possess it.”
He’s now cupping my hip, like he’s pondering what to do next. “Open up,” he says, and my legs part, giving him access. “Mmm… all wet again, aren’t you.” He gets on his knees and grabs his bobbing cock in one hand. “Turn around. On your knees.”
His commanding tone should fire up my resistance, but it does the opposite. I’m putty, and obey him with anticipation. I glance at him over my shoulder. The smoldering look on his face confirms it: This man wants me like I never thought possible, and doing his bidding is my only concern right now.
“Come here,” he says, lifting my hips so I align with his cock. “Hold onto the headboard, sweets. Just like that. Sweet Jesus,” he grunts as he enters me.
The feeling is different. Fuller. I don’t see him, only feel his powerful thrusts, the sensation all-encompassing. My whole body is on fire, taut, ready to snap. His growls and swears only increase my pleasure.
He rolls my nipple in his fingers. “Fucking hell, sweets, losing it here,” he murmurs against my neck.
My center is ready to explode. “Babe, lose it. Please lose it with me.”
He leaves my nipple and wraps his arm around me, the other hand next to mine on the headboard. “Is it as good for you as it is for me?” he asks raggedly.
My orgasm tears through me, lightning fire that ripples from my hair to my toes, and a feral scream escapes me as I feel him empty himself inside me. Violent tremors shake my body, Colt’s strong arm holding us together through his own orgasm.
“How was it for you?” Colt asks once we’re flat on our backs again, a sheen of sweat covering our bodies, the scent of sex pungent in the room.
“I don’t have the words,” I answer. Turning my head to him, I say, “To be honest, half the pleasure comes from seeing you take your pleasure with me.”
“That so?” he says with an adorable smile.
“I feel like I’m really yours.” My confession makes my body feel weak, but in the best possible way. And weirdly, it makes me feel… content. At peace with myself.
He swipes a stray hair from my face, looking dreamy all of a sudden. “Time for a shower,” he declares.
I’m a little disappointed the after-sex doesn’t last longer, but if Colt feels like he needs a shower, then so be it. “You go first.”
“Nuh-uh. We’re showering together.”
That sounds both awesome and very… exposed.
He must read my conflict because he frowns. “I won you at auction. A million bucks. That gets me a shower. Or ten.”
I laugh at that and follow him. He pours a generous amount of shower gel in his palms and runs them all over me. I tense when he gets to my private parts but he just slides as if it's no big deal. It’s both highly erotic and sweet.
“You really got into that auction thing, didn’t you?” I tease once we’re both covered in suds. Did he think it was weird?
“You know,” he says as he massages shampoo in my hair, “in hindsight, I think you were a part of me, one way or another, from the day I saw you in your car, hiding in that thicket. I just didn’t know it.” The memory is distant, something I’ve tried to forget, really. I need to sit with what he said for a minute, and the fact he’s tilting my head back to rinse it under the shower is a perfect excuse to say nothing.
After that, I focus on lathering his pecs, his back, taking my time to admire his strong physique. When I get on my knees to soap his legs, his cock bobs. I lick my lips and look up at him, his body shielding me from the shower for the most part.
“Keep some for later, sweets,” he says with a smile.
We towel off, I use the hairdryer to get most of the humidity off my head, then we find ourselves in my bed again, me curled up inside his arm, one leg over his midsection. I trace question marks on his chest with my finger.
Since he’s brought up the circumstances under which we met, I can’t let it go. I’m not sure if I hate or love what he said. I need more, at the risk of learning something I don’t like.
Maybe this will be how we end.
I have to ask.
“What did you mean earlier… about being yours from the very beginning?”