chapter twenty-nine
Wren
I scurry up the stairs and into my room. I brush my teeth and hair and light a few candles for ambiance. When Jay— Colton comes in, he’s no longer wearing his t-shirt. Dressed only in a pair of black basketball shorts and his balaclava, he looks more like the lethal, masked Viking man than ever before.
“Just returning this to you,” he says and tosses me my panties I left downstairs.
“Oh, thanks, I can’t sleep without them,” I say dryly as I catch them.
He chuckles and climbs into bed with me, lifting his mask to kiss me. The taste of me is still on his tongue and I smile as lightning fills the room.
“Lay down,” I demand, and move off the bed.
He obeys instantly. Once on his back, his erection tents his shorts.
“Is that mine, Colton?” I ask and point to his cock.
“Only if you say my name again.”
I jump onto the bed and straddle his middle. He’s being a brat, so I pinch his nipples.
He lets out a yelp and bats my hands away. “Ouch! Fuck!”
“Too much?” I ask him, worried I’d crossed a line.
“Oh, shit. Uh, no. You just shocked me, that’s all,” he says, pushing up onto his elbows.
“Okay, well, tell me if it’s too much. Safe word is ‘unicorn,’ or hum any song by Britney Spears,” I say.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Wait, why unicorn?”
“Because I like them,” I say and pinch his nipples again.
He yelps. “Okay, and why Britney?”
“Because it’s funny. And your mouth might be busy,” I say and shove my panties in his mouth, effectively gagging him from any more of his bratty questions.
“You are no longer my bodyguard. You are my personal sex toy. Congratulations, you’ve been promoted,” I say and scoot back on his body so I can lick down his trail of chest hair. I’d been dying to do this since he first mowed the lawn without a shirt. His muscles quiver under my touch and I feel his leaking cock against my chest through his shorts. He moans.
“I’ve seen your cock before, but I didn’t get a real good look at it,” I say with curiosity as I hop off of him and slide his shorts down.
“You weren’t wearing any underwear?” I ask, shocked. “You are such a slut coming to my room without panties on.”
He snorts a laugh around his fabric gag.
With his shorts off, he’s fully naked, save his mask, on my bed. He’s massive. With his head on my pillow, his feet almost dangle off the end. I need to get a bigger bed if he is going to spend any more time in it. His arms are curled under his head like a pillow and his biceps look bulky. They’re probably bigger around than my ample thighs. And I haven’t even looked at his dick yet. It bobs as he realizes where my eyes are. The pale skin where his shorts cover him while doing yardwork doesn’t take away from the beauty of the bronzed and tanned rest of him. It gives another layer of vulnerability to his submission to me.
“Hm, who knew my bodyguard was packing this weapon the whole time?” I say as I straddle his thighs and get down to look at his cock closely. A drip of precum rolls over the ridge of his head and I lick it up. He moans and his hips jerk beneath me.
“So responsive,” I tease.
I take him into my mouth, and he goes entirely still. He doesn’t even breathe for a moment before he groans long and low. It sounds like he’s trying to talk through his gag, and I pause a moment to make sure he wasn’t humming a song. He’s babbling unintelligible nonsense and I smile. I suck him, and spit on his cock until he’s well lubricated and sweating.
“Are you clean?” I ask him.
He nods.
“Me, too. And I’m on birth control,” I explain. But he knows that. He’s been with me when I opened my mailed prescription.
I move so my pussy is just above his cock, and he rips the panties out of his mouth and grips my hips. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gravelly but sincere.
“Yeah, are you?”
“Fuck yeah,” he says and loosens his grip on my hips.
I lower myself onto him and even the feel of his crown at my entrance is big. I hesitate for a moment. All of my previous partners have been average sized, and that is just fine. My issues with them were never the size of their cocks, just how they failed to use them. But Jay—Colton is huge. I adjust my knees on the mattress and look down as I take the head of him into me.
A sharp breath escapes me as I push down on him. The stretch burns and my legs start to shake.
“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s okay,” Colton soothes and rubs his hands up and down my thighs.
His eyes are soft and his body relaxed as he gently caresses me. He brings a hand up and uses his thumb to brush against my clit. When my arousal leaks around the head of his cock, he gently guides me further onto him. We both are breathing hard, our breaths sawing in and out of us like we’ve run a marathon.
“Fuck,” I whimper.
“I know, you can take it,” he croons.
He keeps his thumb on my clit, rubbing in circles, as I slowly sink down on his cock. Inch by inch. Once I am fully seated, I open my eyes again.
“Breathe,” he says, his eyes like liquid heat on my body. He lifts my nightdress over my head while I acclimate to the feel of him inside me. The burn gives way to a comforting sense of fullness, and I rock my hips experimentally. Now, fully naked for him, his hands roam over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Rocking on him, I bring myself close to an orgasm quickly. I bite my lip and look down at him. “How do you like being my sex toy? Do you like how tight my pussy is? How wet it is?” I moan and tip my head back as I ride him. “Do you like how I ride this fat cock?”
“Yes,” he groans and his hands tighten around my thighs.
“Don’t come yet, I’m not done with you,” I command.
“Yes, Mistress,” he says almost sarcastically.
“You mouth off to me again and I’ll gag you again,” I warn as I ride him.
He quirks an eyebrow in challenge. Brat.
“Open your mouth,” I demand breathlessly.
He obeys, and I tilt his chin down before spitting in his mouth. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to send a message. He jerks back against the pillow like I’d shocked him, his eyes flaring with anger and excitement. I shove his mouth closed with a snap of his teeth. “Every word out of your mouth to me or about me better be words of adoration and worship.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he says. That look of anger and excitement giving way to an almost feral, unchained look. His grasp on his control is slipping. His hands are tight on my body like he is regulating himself more than my movements as I ride him.
I want to see him off that tightly leashed control. He followed my every demand, and it is his turn to demand of me. I want to feel his body as he lets it have everything it desires. This man is muscle on top of muscle and he let me use him. He trusts me. And I trust him.
“Since you’ve been such a good boy, after I come, you can have control,” I say and run my hands over his chest.
“You sure, baby?” he asks despite the hitch in his breathing.
I nod. “I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck me.”
Without another word, he helps me grind against him as I climb higher and higher to my orgasm. I hear my own moans and his groaning praises, but I can’t do anything other than crash headlong into an orgasm. It starts in my core and ricochets through my body to my fingers and toes, arching my back and forcing me to scream my release to the candle lit ceiling.
Barely on the other side of my climax, I’m roughly flipped over until he’s on top of me. I blink open my eyes, not realizing I shut them, and see his brows drawn together to form a crease and his still unmasked mouth open as he fucks me hard and deep. I tilt my hips to keep him from painfully bashing my cervix, but otherwise let him do what he wants.
When feeling returns to my hands, I run them over his body, feeling his sweaty skin. He kisses me deeply. His tongue delves into my mouth in a searing, claiming kiss. I moan against his mouth and I see his tattooed arms shaking where they’re planted on the bed.
“You take it so well, baby,” he whispers. “Look at it. Look how good.”
I look down and see his cock and his surrounding patch of hair shining with my release as he pumps into me.
“You came so good on my dick, baby.”
A shuddering moan escapes me as I begin to reach for another orgasm.
He wraps a hand around my neck and squeezes. I was already breathless, so it takes next to no time before I’m seeing spots. He lets go so I can breathe. “Holy shit, princess, you like that,” he says, awe in his voice.
I nod.
“Look at us now,” he almost chuckles.
His hand squeezes again, and I watch as my pussy gushes with arousal around him. I would laugh at my body, but the pleasure is too much and his hand is still around my throat.
“You look beautiful being split in half and choked,” he growls. “Fuck, I can’t get enough. Soak it, princess.”
And that I do. Another orgasm rushes over me, this one on the edge of painful as his hips stutter in their brutal fucking.
His moans fill my ears as he rests his forehead against mine. His half-finished praises and exaltations accompany me as I return to my body post orgasm.
“So good—oh, fuck, you feel—I’m going to—perfect, baby.”
With a growling groan, his thrusts take on an upward tilt as he comes. I hold him tightly to me as he fucks me through his orgasm and slows down. On shaking limbs, he pulls out of me and lays down, his face still buried in my neck, kissing me over and over. We still cling to each other as we catch our breath. He tugs his mask back over his mouth and looks at me. His eyes are crinkled in a smile as he brushes my hair away from my face.
“You okay?” he asks gently.
“Perfect,” I whisper and kiss his shoulder.
He chuckles.
“What?”
“I had pictured so much better sex than missionary for you,” he laughs.
“Oh, um, sorry,” I say self-consciously.
“No! Fuck, no. I meant what I wanted to do to you. I had always hoped I’d have it in me to be… more adventurous with you since I heard about your issues with—”
I laugh, cutting him off.
“I’m sorry if it wasn’t good. I was just so excited to finally… you know,” he says self-deprecatingly.
“Jay, I mean, Colton, you did great. That was amazing. The best I’ve ever had. Really. It’s not the position, it’s… everything else.” I stroke his chest, my fingers swirling in his chest hair.
“Oh, the choking, got it,” he says jokingly.
“All of it,” I yawn.
“No yawning yet, I need to clean you up,” he says admonishingly.
“I’ll shower in a minute.”
“Who said anything about a shower yet?” He asks mischievously as he extracts himself from my arms and slides down the bed.
I cringe and laugh. “Ja—Colton!”
Where the last time his mouth was on my pussy, his mission was to get me to know his name. This time, his mission is to get me to know his devotion. And I understand now. It’s not just my body, my access to money, or my influence. He is devoted to me , Wren. He doesn’t want a seat on my dad’s board or a contract with his company. Colton wants to watch birds, eat homemade bread, play video games, read fantasy books, dote on my pet, and suck his own come out of me .
And I am truly, unmistakably, desperately in love with him.