“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against my skin. “Let me have all of you. Every sexy inch.”
He licks a slow, wet stripe from my soaked pussy to my ass, feasting on both holes until I’m trembling, my hips rocking against his face. The pleasure is insane, completely overwhelming.
A filthy, perfect indulgence I never knew I could have.
“That’s it,” he groans against my skin. “Let go, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
And for the first time in eight years, I believe him.
Because for a dizzying second, I’m not just here in this bed. I’m the woman who bought this lace five years ago, tags still on, believing she’d never be brave enough to wear it.
I’m the mother who’s spent years answering Morgan’s questions about her father, and why he left us.
And I’m the woman, right now, who’s starting to believe that maybe, maybe some men might actually stay.
“Colt, oh…” I moan, letting his tongue work both my holes as I claw as his muscles.
The sight of his broad shoulders flexing, the powerful curve of his back as he kneels between my thighs… it’s too much. I need all of him.Now.
My hands slide over the hard planes of his arms, pulling him up.
“I need you, now.”
He fumbles with his pants, shoving them down. My breath hitches as his pants slide down his hips, and oh my God.
His cock springs free, thick and hard and so fucking perfect I can’t look away. It’s long and heavy, curving slightly toward his stomach, the head flushed a deep, tempting red.
Thick veins rope along the length as he wraps a large hand around himself, giving a slow, deliberate stroke that makes my core heat instantly. My eyes follow the movement, hypnotized by the way his fingers glide over his silken skin.
He’s warming himself up, teasing us both, and the sheer eroticism of watching this gorgeous, powerful man touching himself because of me… It sends a fresh wave of wetness between my thighs.
I’ve never seen anything like him. My ex was… fine. Average.
This? This is a masterpiece.
He leans over me, his gaze locked on mine as he guides himself to my entrance. The blunt, hot head of him presses against my slick folds, and I gasp, my hips lifting instinctively, begging for him without words.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “So fucking ready for me.”
I am. God, I am.
Every inch of me is screaming for him to fill me, to stretch me, to claim me in a way I haven’t been claimed in years… maybe ever.
“Look at me,” he commands, and I do.
He pushes inside, slow, so damn slow, filling me completely. I moan, loud and unfiltered as my nails dig into his shoulders.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, his forehead against mine. “Let me hear you. You're so fucking sexy when you moan for me.”
I do. I moan, I beg, I tell him how good he feels, how deep he is.
I’ve never been this loud, this free.
His pace quickens, his thrusts deep and sure. I wrap my legs around his waist, meeting him stroke for stroke.
“I’m close,” he grunts, his rhythm faltering as his cock slides deeper, hitting that perfect spot that makes my body clench tight.
“Me too.” I cling to him, my release building again, tighter, brighter. “Colt, please—”