Chapter 29 Violet #2
This wasn’t from the book, but it was appreciated nonetheless. A war raged inside me. I trusted him, wanted him to feel good, wanted to do something I wasn’t “supposed” to enjoy, but I really, really did.
I was starting to come to terms with a strange contradiction.
For so long, I think subconsciously, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to enjoy sex because my sexuality had been taken from me and used.
And when you have something taken from you, even if you get it back, a piece of you will always be lost to the robbery.
Colton embraced those wounded parts of me, and that trust gave me no hesitation about doing something usually deigned dirty or raunchy by society at large. Self-respecting women shouldn’t enjoy such things, lest we be degraded by the patriarchy.
But I didn’t just like this. I loved it.
I loved how Colt was trying so hard to hold back.
I loved how I was making the choice to give myself to him like this.
I loved thinking of the different places he could finish, leaving evidence of his pleasure.
I loved that my panties were so drenched, I was tempted to rub my thighs together or touch myself.
What could be more liberating than that? What’s more empowering than freely exchanging pleasure with someone who wanted you to feel as good as they did?
I didn’t want him to hold back anymore. I lifted my hands to grope his ass and push him deeper into my mouth.
“Aw, fuck,” he groaned. His eyes rolled back and his hand twisted in the side of my hair. I pulled a deep breath through my nose and gripped his ass harder, encouraging him to push again. “You sure?”
I nodded, adjusting my lips to be more comfortable. Colt bent to gather my hair into a ponytail, and then he was off. He used my hair to steer me, to hold me steady while he pumped into my mouth. “Taking me so fucking well, Ava.”
My eyes flashed up to his and I winked. He wasn’t exactly sticking to the book, but it was the perfect mix of us and fiction.
“You love this, don’t you, baby?” he gritted out. “Sucking on my cock like you were born to do it.”
Each time he hit the back of my throat, a new gush of wetness pooled between my legs. I couldn’t hold off anymore. I hiked up my skirt and reached to touch myself.
“Nuh uh. You save that for me,” he said in a voice both encouraging and stern. “Show me how wet you are.”
I dipped my hand inside my panties and used my fingers to show off the slickness there.
“Fuck,” Colt groaned. “Getting so wet for me. Your pussy’s jealous of your mouth.”
I’d forgotten how scrumptiously filthy Colt could be. I moaned around him and shut my eyes as my jaw cramped. I was determined to stick it out. I was determined to be good for Colton, to earn the praise he gave so readily. I tightened my lips around him and he cussed.
“God, Vi, you’re gonna make me come.”
His hips pumped faster and I looked up to see the most wonderfully obscene sight: Colton, hair wild, eyes glazed, undone, lost to the way he sank his cock into my mouth over and over.
Spit rolled down my chin, and the disregard for propriety and tidiness added another layer of arousal to the scene.
We were wild, two feral beasts drunk on the pursuit of pleasure.
Colt’s hand cupped my jaw and brought my gaze to his eyes. “My pretty girl.”
That was just for me, just ours. The name, the praise, fell like a warm rain over me. I wiggled my tongue against his hard flesh and he switched to quick, shallow thrusts.
“Oh, fuck. This is it. Do I need to—” He cut himself off by throwing his head back against the door and slamming his fist into it at his side, right as his cock pulsed against the back of my mouth.
I’d almost forgotten about this. I was always terrible at swallowing, and when I was successful despite the odds, my stomach hurt.
“Cummy tummy” was what Kitty and I jokingly referred to it as, though she didn’t suffer from the affliction quite like I did.
Colton had laughed until he cried when I first introduced him to the term in college.
But I didn’t want to fuck this up. I was a grown ass woman.
Surely I could figure this out. I gagged and sputtered, each movement of my mouth making him jolt, his voice growing louder.
I had to focus. With a hard blink, I finally got it down and fell backwards onto my ass. I looked up to Colton’s awestruck face.
“You swallowed it,” he marveled. “You never could. Sorry, I meant to pull out. It was just . . . yeah. It was too good.”
I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, then leaned back against the sink behind me while making a jazz hand. “I did it.”
Colton dropped to his knees between my legs, peppering sweet, elated kisses to my lips. “You’re fucking perfect. I mean, you would have been even if you didn’t, but—”
“I wanted to do it,” I said, grasping his shirt collar in my hand. “For you.”
Colt’s brows pinched and he launched another series of kisses. His hand coasted up my inner thigh. “Your turn.” His jaw dropped as he met my soaked underwear. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
I smirked. “That’s what you do to me.”
This wasn’t the book. This was us. He hooked my panties to the side and ran his fingers up and down my drenched lips. I whimpered under his touch. “Please.”
He slipped his middle and ring fingers inside and kissed me. “I got you, baby.”
The heel of his palm bumped against my swollen clit, and his fingers held the perfect angle inside me. I gasped, gripping his forearm with both hands.
“That’s it, baby. I got it. Relax for me. Close your eyes.”
Relaxing wasn’t in the cards, but pleasure was. I fisted the bath mat under me, his shirt in my hand. I begged, and he kissed my pleas away. He nipped my breast. He licked my neck. He held on while I told him not to stop.
“I won’t, baby.”
“Will you go down on me?” I panted.
Colt got the widest grin. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
His head dipped and his fingers continued their work.
But his tongue. Oh, his tongue. My stomach fluttered, and there was that feeling I’d forgotten was possible during sex.
Colton, the man between my spread legs, was the only one to ever give me that feeling, a connection so intense that it transcended sex and love and every possible dopamine hit.
Seeing him immersed like that, savoring the task, giving and giving, he was fucking beautiful.
“You’re so . . . so pretty, Colt,” I managed.
He lifted his face for a moment to look into my eyes, a gentle smile gracing his lips, his bright eyes, my arousal on his face.
He could have delivered any number of the praises from Jordan in the book.
He could have told me what a good girl I was, how I’m prettier than him, hell, that he wanted to keep his hand there and wear me as a fucking ring or some other outrageous romance-novel-only speak.
The response he chose was infinitely hotter, a raspy sound I’d replay for the rest of my days. “Yeah?”
That was enough. I pinched my legs around his arm and sat up more to put our faces mere inches apart. His thumb reached to work in time with the rest of his hand, and I was there.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” My voice was so wheezy I hardly recognized it. I was coming on his hand, practically convulsing on the bathroom floor with my sole focus on his sex-drunk eyes.
At other times in my life, I would have been ashamed of enjoying sex so much. Of letting myself feel pleasure like that with a partner.
But all I felt was joy. Freedom. Liberation.
And a dangerously tight bond with the man in front of me.
I smashed my face to his, clutching the back of his head and moaning into our kiss.
Colt had the sweetest satisfied smile when we parted. “Don’t know if I’ve ever felt you go that hard.”
“I think I really like sucking your dick.”
Colt chuckled. “I could tell. I’ll keep that in mind.” He brushed a light kiss to my lips. “Let’s get you fixed up so we can get out of here.”
Colt was gentle helping me get put back together, dropping soft kisses on any bare skin before he covered it up. He dipped to drag his tongue over my pussy lips, moaning at the taste. “You taste so fucking good,” he whispered before kissing me. “How do you feel?”
I bit my lip. “Like that was hot as hell.”
He kissed my forehead. “It was.”
Three loud bangs hit the bathroom door, making us both startle. “Open up! I gotta piss!”
With a shared laughing grimace, Colton pulled me from the floor, tugged my skirt down, and ushered us past the source of the banging. Hand in hand, we thundered down the steps and out into the night.
We ran, though we probably didn’t need to, giggling all the way back to his car. We jumped in and slammed our doors, panting and looking at each other to figure out how we felt about it.
“That was fun,” I said.
He nodded and breathed heavily. “It was. Wanna come home with me?”
It was scary, letting my heart be open to Colton again.
But as I looked at him there in the glow of the dashboard lights, I saw so many things.
I saw young Colton, the college boy who was forever glass half full, naturally lucky.
I saw a more weathered version of him, one that had been taught by the hands of time, loss, and experience.
And I saw the beautiful soul who had been there all along, who despite the ups and downs of life, held out hope for a better tomorrow.
My insides swooped, but then I felt the familiar pang: my post-cum swallowing stomach ache. “On one condition.”
His face turned more serious. “Yeah, anything. What’s up?”
I rounded my eyes at him. “I have cummy tummy. I need food.”
Colton’s eyes softened and he struggled to hold back a laugh. “I had forgotten about cummy tummy! You poor thing. Are you okay?”
“I will be once you feed me,” I moaned.
He puffed out his cheeks and tossed his head from side to side as he put the car in drive. “I mean, I kind of already did.”
He cackled when I huffed at him.
“Not semen, you goober. Take me to the drive thru. Hurry up before I puke up your kids.”
Colton snorted down a chuckle a couple times and put the car in drive. He reached to hold my hand. “To the drive thru we go.”