Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
Ky
Even though Sara had to get on a flight back home (she works tomorrow evening), I managed to arrange for Blake to stay a few days here at Colt’s house, to spend some quality time with his brother considering how infrequently they’re able to get together in person.
I did not count on the power of the jersey.
Luckily, Blake was tired out by the events of the day and is ensconced at the opposite end of the hall in the guest room.
Because Colt came home, saw me in his jersey, and—
“Oh, my God!” I groan as his fingers skate through the slickness of my pussy, circle my clit in that way he does, that way that makes me insane, that makes my insides clench, desperate for the hard length of him stretching me wide.
“Shh,” he says, though his eyes are filled with humor as he kisses his way up the inside of my thigh, pushing the jersey up inch by inch.
But he pairs that command with his mouth joining the party between my legs.
How in the heck am I supposed to be quiet in the face of that?
Impossible because the orgasm is ratcheting through me with all the force of a tsunami, the wave knocking me flat, sucking me under, not allowing me to surface for an eternity.
And when I do it’s to find Colt over the top of me, the jersey rucked up and—
“Oh!” I gasp as he sucks and licks and kisses at my breasts, my nipples, sending me from lax and sated to desperate and needy and—
“Wet,” he rasps, his words barely discernible. “You are so fucking wet, baby.”
“For you,” I say, grinding against him. “Only you.”
He groans and takes my mouth in a kiss that’s sin personified, leaving me gasping for air by the time he pulls back and urges me to my front, pulling my knees up under me. “Okay?” he asks, smoothing his hand down my back—straightening the jersey…
“With you being a caveman deep down?”
He trails his finger along the base of my spine…dips it into the slick heat of me.
I gasp.
A nip to my cheeks, the ones offered up so brazenly for him.
“Since you’re sassing”—a flick of his tongue to ease the slight sting from his teeth—“I’m guessing it’s okay.”
“I’m not sure you’ve convinced me yet,” I say lazily, arching back into his fingers, which are stroking and circling and—
He pulls back. “Maybe you should convince me,” he says with another nip.
“Colt—”
A flick to my clit that has me biting back a moan. “I bet I can make you beg.”
I’d bet he’s right.
Especially if he keeps stroking me like that.
I shiver, press into him. “Another time, honey. I want you.”
“Hmm.” Slow and steady, teasing me until another orgasm starts nipping at my heels.
“Colt.”
Lips on my spine…
Back between my legs.
And up, up I climb.
But just as I’m grinding back against him, as my orgasm is right there…he pulls away.
“Colt!”
“Do you want me like this?” he asks huskily, his words hot puffs of air against my skin, his tongue flicking out to circle my entrance. “You want my mouth?”
I want anything.
I want everything.
“Honey, I—”
He moves, his big body coming over mine, surrounding me in his warmth. “Or do you want me like this?”
The head of his cock nudges at my entrance and I shudder, arching my hips, trying to take him inside me.
But he shifts back.
My protest is loud.
So loud he shushes me again.
“If you don’t get inside me and fuck me, I’ll get so loud that Blake will—” I break off on a moan as he pushes in, stretching me wide, wider than normal in this position.
“Threats, starfire.” Teeth on the shell of my ear. “You play dirty.”
“I—”
But I can’t begin to know what I would have said. Not when he’s drawing out and pressing it back in and doing it in a fierce rhythm that means I have to brace myself on the headboard, that I can only hold on tight as he…fucks me.
A hand on my hip, the other shoved under the jersey to my front, cupping my breast, rolling my nipple and then I’m thrusting back, meeting his strokes, taking him as he takes me and—
“Gonna need you to come, baby,” he rasps. “Like now.”
I’m close.
But I’m holding it back. Because this feels too good and I don’t want it to be over and—
As though he knows exactly what’s going through my mind—and is going to allow absolutely no part of it—he dives his hand between my legs, works my clit with ruthless abandon.
I have no hope of holding back.
Then again, with Colt, I never have.
The pleasure flames over me, incinerating any of my control—my rhythm goes jerky, my cries grow in volume (in far too much volume), and my body isn’t mine.
It’s Colt’s.
It’s the pleasure he creates in me.
The joy and safety and love.
My arms give out and I fall forward, a flash of worry crossing my hazy brain—that I’ve messed up his rhythm, messed up his orgasm—but then his thrusts are increasing in magnitude, in speed, until the sound of our bodies coming together is all I hear, until his balls slapping against my oversensitized folds is all I feel.
Until—
“Oh, my God!” I cry as I come apart again.
And this time, it’s paired with his groan, his strokes going wild…and finally, he stills, collapsing on top of me.
“Sorry,” he says some time—it could be a minute, an hour, an eternity—later.
“For what?”
“Crushing you.” He grunts as he rolls us to the side.
“I like it,” I tell him, cuddling closer. “It makes me feel safe.”
He was tracing the letters of his last name—the M, the a, the d—but my words have him freezing.
“What?” I ask, rolling over to face him.
Lips on my forehead, fingers stroking over my cheek, brown eyes blazing into mine. “There was a time I would have given anything to hear you say that.”
My heart.
God, it can’t take the sweetness of this man.
“I love you,” I murmur.
“I love—”
A knock at the door interrupts him.
“Um…” I whisper.
“Yeah?” he calls.
There’s a pause before Blake’s voice echoes through the door, “if you’re, uh, finished—”
I groan, bury my face in Colt’s chest.
“—there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”