Chapter 22 Quinn
QUINN
I head straight for the full-length mirror, positioning myself in front of it as I comb the hair I already combed in the bathroom. But he doesn’t need to know that.
I keep my eyes away from him, but my stomach jumps when I hear his fingers stop clacking against his keyboard.
“Chaos?”
“Hm?”
“Where are your clothes?”
I look at him sprawled out on the love seat, clothed in nothing but athletic shorts. I let my eyes wander over his body, across those wide shoulders and along the strong biceps and down the line of brown hair that travels his abdomen until it disappears deliciously beneath his shorts.
“Look who’s talking,” I say, gesturing to everything he has going on.
He chuckles and pushes himself to stand. “I’m dressed.”
“Barely.” I try to infuse my tone with as much derision as possible, but it comes out breathy.
He smirks and walks closer. “I’m not the one without pants.”
I look down at the towel that reaches halfway down my thighs but just meets in the middle. The tiniest shift and you’d see everything. “I’m covered more than you, assuming nothing slips.”
His eyes run down my towel, taking in how easy it would be to get me out of it. I let it slide a bit, but catch it at the last second and tuck it back in.
I smile innocently at him. “Oops.”
He growls. Literally growls. His eyes are turning more feral by the second, and he’s starting to look more predator than man. “Teasing ain’t nice, Chaos.”
“That mountain boy’s coming out, huh? I must be getting to you.” I step closer and whisper, “Who says I’m teasing?”
He pauses, one heartbeat of hesitation, and then he’s on me.
His long legs close the distance between us in two steps.
His hand grabs the back of my neck, hauling my lips to his.
He wraps my wet hair around his fist, tugging to angle me where he wants.
My stomach swoops, then tightens along with the rest of my body.
He grabs my towel with one hand, ripping it from my body and flinging it across the room in one fluid motion. He steps back, seeing me completely naked for the first time.
“Fuck. You’re so hot.”
He pulls me back into a kiss and walks me back until I’m pinned to the wall. The abrasion of his shorts reminds me I’m the only one exposed. There’s something addictive about being on display, Colton’s groans and wandering hands broadcasting how much he likes what he sees.
“Always so fucking wet for me,” Colton whispers as he slides a finger inside me.
“It’s been a constant struggle since you came home.”
My moan mixes with his as he uses the heel of his hand to apply pressure to my clit, and I grind against him.
My hands dive into his hair, desperate for something to cling to, something to ground me in the flood of sensation.
When I tug at the soft, short strands, he grunts, and I yank my hands away.
“I’m sorry,” I pant.
“No,” Colton says, his voice low and harsh. He grabs both my hands and slides them back into his hair. “No, don’t fucking stop.”
I grip his hair tighter as his head lowers to my breast, and my whole body jolts against the wall.
He brings his hands around to my ass, kneading each cheek before he starts to lift me.
My stomach swoops and I push him back. I try to move past him, but he cages me in with his arms. He isn’t letting me off so easily.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, I just figured walking over to the bed is better.”
“Why?”
This isn’t how I expected my naked strut from the bathroom to go. I gesture to my body as I roll my eyes. “Not the type of girl people pick up.”
I love my body and have no interest in changing it to fit the ideal society pushed on us before we were old enough to understand what fat actually is. At the same time, I’m a plus-size woman, and that rarely translates well to being carried.
Colton pushes his hands into my hair and angles my head so our eyes meet.
“You’re not too much for me,” he says, pinning me with his intense gaze. “What I want right now is to feel your legs wrapped around me, and then I’m going to fuck you on every surface in this hotel room, including the walls. Understood?”
I can’t speak. His tone leaves no room for argument—not that I want to argue when he speaks that way. I struggle to focus on anything beyond the intense ache between my legs, but all I can see is him and the picture he’s painted.
I’m able to pull myself together enough to nod.
The corner of his mouth kicks up, and then I’m in the air, his arms wrapped securely around my ass.
My legs wrap around his waist and the glorious pressure of his hard dick between my legs has my eyes rolling in the back of my head.
He pushes me against the wall and grinds into me, wrenching a moan from my throat.
Colt supports my weight with one hand, and I almost come at the show of strength alone. His other arm comes around to push his basketball shorts to the ground, leaving us naked together for the first time.
“Are you sure about the condom?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “I picked some up earlier, so we have the option.”
“Yes. I trust you. Please fuck me.”
No more encouragement needed, he lines himself up and lowers me onto him. Colton’s mouth is at my throat, choked moans and whispered pleas pressed to my skin as I slide farther and farther onto him. I reel at the perfect feeling of fullness when he’s seated.
But after a few seconds, when he doesn’t start moving, I worry lifting me up is too much.
“Colt? You okay?”
He breathes heavily. “I spent nearly half my life dreaming about this pussy. I need a minute, or this one-time thing is gonna turn into a one-minute thing.”
My heart pinches at his reference to our agreement. One time. That’s all I get with him, and immediately it feels wrong. We fit together perfectly and the thought of never feeling him again makes my body clench, and not in the way you want with a hard dick inside of you. I shift to shake it off.
His fingers dig into my ass. “Stop moving, Quinn.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, and he groans into my neck.
After a few more seconds, he finally starts moving, slowly and deliciously deep, the friction making my head drop back against the wall with a small thunk.
He moves faster, thrusting his hips while bouncing me in his arms like it’s nothing.
My orgasm creeps closer, made more intense by the feeling of weightlessness and of his strength around me.
I feel completely secure with this man—I instinctually know that he has me. That he’d never let anything hurt me.
He leans down to take a nipple between his teeth, and that steady climb turns into a full-blown rocket. It shoots me off, and I scream his name toward the ceiling.
With my legs still wrapped around his torso, he walks us over to the bed. He lets my body run the length of his as he sets me down, lightning sparking at each point of contact. I run my hands down his forearms, the blue veins standing out from the effort of keeping me pinned against the wall.
“I’m nowhere near done with you. Get on the bed,” he says, and I whimper as I scramble back onto our tiny mattress. He grips himself, giving one long, slow tug. “Good girl. Now touch yourself.”
My head tips back as I moan, one hand running down between my legs while the other clasps my breast. Within seconds, though, my eyes seek out Colton again.
The distance lets me see him—really see him—for the first time.
I want to trace the lines of his body with my fingertips, feel the strength of those thick thighs.
But mostly, I want his incredible cock inside me again.
When my perusal makes its way back to his face, I realize he’s doing the same to me. “Venus in the flesh,” he whispers, like he’s talking to himself, not to me.
I reach for him. “I need you back inside me.”
He tuts as he crawls over my body, stopping to lavish kisses on my stomach.
“We need to work on your patience. I’m living out all of my fantasies.” He drags his tongue up my core, stopping to suck my clit into his mouth, and I groan and arch my back. “And you coming on my tongue is definitely on the list.”
Good. Fucking. Lord.
I don’t make him wait long. I can’t, not with the way he savors me. There’s no teasing. His tongue traces the lines of my lips before pushing inside me. He licks me like he wants to explore every part of me, like it’s more for his enjoyment than mine, and that thought pushes me over the edge again.
He shifts back up my body and kisses me deeply, letting me taste myself on his lips. He rolls his hips against mine, and I wrap my legs back around him to angle myself perfectly.
His eyes met mine, and half a second later, he fills me with one hard thrust.
“God, yes,” I scream.
He buries his face in my neck, licking and kissing his way to my ear. “I propose we change our deal from a one-time thing to a one-night thing.”
I huff out a laugh. “Seconded.”
“Thank fuck, cause I’m not gonna last much longer and there are so many more things I want to do to you.” One hand comes down to my hip, squeezing tight and pinning my body where he wants me.
“Yes, please,” I pant.
“I’m close, Quinn. What do you want?”
“Don’t stop.”
He takes my earlobe between his teeth, giving it a soft tug that sends a shockwave straight to my center. “I’m gonna need you to use those words you’re so fond of. When we’re together, you say what you want. In explicit detail.”
His accent has come back in full force, and his twang is doing things to me. He’s my Colt, but a new, sexy version who likes dirty talk and fucking me into the mattress.
I grab his ass, pulling him as deep as possible. “Come inside me.”
He groans. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
He thrusts a few more times before he swells and explodes, the sensation sending me over the edge as I join him in oblivion.
Neither of us move, both trying to recover. He shifts away, but I tighten my legs around him.
“Not yet. Please.”
He nods into the crook of my neck and grinds his pelvis against mine. The pressure on my clit sends aftershocks through me, and I sigh in his ear.
After an eternity, he rolls off me and flops on the bed. His dimple’s on full display, and I lean over to kiss it, slipping my tongue out to flick over the small indent. He laughs, so lighthearted it’s almost a giggle, and pushes me away.
“I’ve never done that before,” he says.
I raise my brows. “Had someone lick your dimple?” He rolls his eyes and I faux-gasp. “Or sex? Colton Miller, were you a virgin?”
He scoffs. “I think it was pretty clearly not my first time.”
“Conceited dick.” I laugh and smack his chest.
“Want to see conceited? Wait until you see my recovery time.”
Goosebumps spread over my body when he drags me across the small bed. We lie there, legs twined together and my hand tracing patterns over his chest.
Even with the rest of the night still to go, I don’t know how I’m supposed to have my fill of him. And that thought scares the shit out of me.