Chapter 10 Stella #2
He barks out another laugh and stands up. Packing up my things, I follow him to the door, which he holds open for me, and then to his truck.
When we finally get to Colt’s apartment, he keeps his word and turns on the movie, ordering takeout for lunch. However, it’s not long after we eat before neither one of us is paying attention.
Colt rubs a lazy hand up and down my thigh, driving me insane with the lightness of his touch. With each pass, I hope and pray that his hand will go higher, but he continues to keep his touch respectful.
Turning my head, I reach a hand up to cup his jaw and bring his lips to mine. The soft touches are too tender, too reverent. He fills me with lust, but also something else. Something I’m afraid to acknowledge. I need him to stop being sweet if this arrangement is going to stick.
He returns my kiss eagerly. The way his tongue brushes mine sends a wave of heat directly between my thighs. I let out a soft moan, and he grips my hip in response.
His hand climbs under my shirt, grazing the bare skin of my back, and I decide to help him by removing my shirt and tossing it to the floor.
Needing to urge him along, to make him realize that this is what I want, I run my hand over the front of his shorts, cupping his erection and squeezing slightly. He moans into my mouth at the feeling.
“Tell me what you want, Stella,” he whispers, rolling me onto my back and hovering over top of my body.
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Colt,” I reply, keeping my voice equally as soft, afraid to break him from the moment.
He must hear the resolution in my voice. With newfound vigor, he licks along my jaw while simultaneously reaching behind me to unclasp my bra with a one-handed flick. The action catches me so off guard that I accidentally let out a laugh. “Of course, you know how to do that,” I say breathlessly.
He props up on his elbows, shooting me a smirk. “I might be a professional at that particular move, sweetheart.” He leans back, giving me room to remove the garment and toss it down with my discarded shirt.
A moan of pleasure escapes his throat at the sight of my bare breasts. Colt bends back down and sucks one nipple between his lips, tweaking the other with his rough fingers. The sensation of him has me throwing my head back with a moan.
“Fuck. Colt.” I draw a shaky intake of breath, arching into him. He licks and sucks on my nipples, splitting his attention between the two of them before his mouth glides back up to my throat. He inhales deeply and presses his body down onto mine.
His length grinds into my lower stomach, cluing me in on just how much he’s enjoying this—and just how large he is.
One of his hands slides between us, trailing over the front of my pants as he nips at my bottom lip. My body is on fire with his touch.
“Are you wet for me, Stell?” he asks, scraping his teeth down the other side of my jaw, sucking on the sensitive skin under my ear.
“I need you inside me. Now.” My fingers pull at his hair, tugging his face up to mine.
My desperation makes him chuckle, “Yes, ma’am.”
He pushes up onto his knees and reaches into the nightstand, grabbing a condom. I take the moment to remove the rest of my clothes. When he looks back at me, his eyebrows raise, and his eyes widen, gaze heating.
Taking me by surprise, he grabs me around the middle and flips me onto my stomach. Kneeling behind me, I relish the friction of his calloused palms as he rubs both hands over the globes of my ass.
“God, you have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen,” he praises, gripping the soft flesh tightly.
“Less teasing, more fucking, please,” I groan into the pillow.
“I’m not teasing,” he retorts, bending down and licking his way up my spine. “I’m admiring.” He kisses the crook of my neck, then gently nibbles on the lobe of my ear. “I’m worshiping.”
The shiver that runs through my body is an involuntary response to his words. Do I have a praise kink? Actually, I think I just have a Colt Crosby kink.
He stands up, finally shedding his clothes that have somehow remained on this entire time. But before he can get to the condom, I slide off the bed, settling on my knees in front of him.
My heart rate doubles at the sight of him above me.
“Stella…”
“Is this okay?” I reach up and grip his erection at the base, tugging one firm stroke.
“I think I can live with it,” he replies shakily.
Never breaking eye contact, I lean in and leisurely run my tongue along the bottom of his cock. It’s long and soft, heavy in my hand. When I get to the tip, I wrap my lips around him and hollow out my cheeks.
Reaching out, he gathers all my hair into his hands, and I take that as my sign to continue and pull him deep into my throat.
Instead of letting me continue, he pulls my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “Get on the bed,” he growls, abandoning all pretenses of nonchalance. I can’t pretend I haven’t been waiting for this moment for weeks now, and I eagerly—maybe too eagerly—crawl back onto his bed.
Colt rolls the condom on in one smooth, practiced motion.
I stare up at him, mesmerized. Colt is built like a Greek god, and watching him crawl over me is the most erotic thing I’ve ever endured.
He captures my mouth, ravaging me with his lips, then his tongue.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasps, angling his hips so that his cock is rubbing against my pussy.
“Prove it,” I demand, half delirious with the thought of him and not entirely sure what I’m even asking him to prove.
He reaches down and cups my pussy, rubbing my clit with the pad of his thumb, making me nearly arch off the bed.
“Colt.” I’m panting, not caring how desperate I sound.
My ragged voice seems to break whatever’s left of his restraint.
He lines himself up with my entrance and pushes his cock slowly into my core.
I wasn’t expecting him to go slow, but it doesn’t take long before his pace picks up.
I’m relieved that he seems just as frenzied as I am.
He throws his head back in a glorious moan, and I look up at him in awe.
He pulls out and thrusts into me again, and again, and again, building up a steady rhythm. He rubs my clit, causing lightning to shoot up my spine and my toes to curl. His other hand grips my waist, pulling my body to meet each of his thrusts.
“Oh, God, don’t stop.” He looks down on me, his gaze hungry and intense. He’s pounding so deep into me that I can feel the pressure in my stomach.
“Fuck, Stella…” Colt’s voice is gravely and low, keying me in on just how close he is to losing it. His pupils are blown wide, and a single bead of sweat sits along his hairline.
He picks up his pace, fucking with complete abandon. His hand moves to my thigh, lifting my leg to deepen the angle, while the other never stops the torturous tempo of pressure being applied to my clit.
The new angle allows him to hit that sweet spot inside of me, making me see stars.
“Colt, I’m gonna come. Please, I’m—” I come undone in a wave of tremors, pussy gripping tightly around his length.
He rides out my orgasm, never changing pace.
Finally, with a few more thrusts, he follows me over the edge.
Afterward, he stays on top of me for a few more seconds, kissing my forehead and running his hands over my hips.
When he finally rolls off, I feel cold and incomplete without his weight.
We lie there for a while, breathing heavily, not speaking, before he finally gets up and disposes of the condom in his bathroom.
As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, there’s only one thought running through my head: I might die if I never do that again.
“I need to go home,” I tell him some time later. “I picked up a morning shift at the gym tomorrow, and I need to shower tonight.”
“Want me to drive you back?” he asks, not pressuring me to stay.
“You don’t have to; I can get an Uber back.”
“No, I don’t mind. I’ll probably pick up some dinner on my way back, anyway,” he insists.
I laugh once. “We just had takeout, and you’re going to get more? Don’t you know how to cook?” I joke.
He looks sheepish when he responds. “Sure, I know how. I just don’t like to. I usually let Beau cook or go over to Drew’s. Or I just buy food.”
“That’s so expensive!” I exclaim. “I’ll teach you how to meal prep next time I come over.”
“Like I said, I know how to cook, smartass,” he smirks at me.
Then, his face becomes guarded, but he continues talking.
“My dad loved to cook. He wanted to be a chef when I was younger, but couldn’t afford to go to culinary school.
” He pauses. The sadness in his voice tells me that his dad doesn’t do a lot of cooking anymore.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I say, trying to give him the same courtesy as before, even though the curiosity is bound to kill me. Lord knows I’ve been dying to ask about his scars for weeks now, but avoiding it at all costs.
He nods. “Anyway, the moral of the story is that I can cook, I just don’t feel like it.
The most I do is a frozen dinner. Sue me.
” He stands and grabs his jacket from the hook next to the door.
“I’ll drive you home, probably go get some ice time in since I’ve been in bed all day,” he gives me a pointed look with that statement, “and then grab a bite to eat. No big deal.”
I think about making a joke about how we got our cardio in earlier, but I decide against it. Instead, I thank him and follow him to the parking lot.