Page 102 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

Squeak. Squeak.

Stupid fucking bed frame.

She huffed in annoyance, breath ruffling her bangs. First the floorboards and now the bed? Had no one in this house heard of WD-40?

Colin’s fingers bit into her thighs. “It’s fine.” He shifted, wiggling against the sheets, maneuvering them both closer to the center of the bed. “Keep going.”

She nodded, rose onto her knees, and—

Squeak. Squeak. SQUEAK.

“This is ridiculous.” She smacked a hand down against the bedspread and groaned. Here she was with Colin’s cock inside her, all delicious pressure but none of the friction she needed to actually get off.

Colin looked as desperate as she felt, heels of his hands dug into his eyes. His arms flopped against the bed, earning another, albeit softer yet no less ominous, squeak. “Fuck it. Floor?”

Yes, the floor. Brilliant.

Truly scrambled off his lap, careful not to knee him anywhere vital. He followed, letting out a gentle oomph when she shoved him down on the carpet, flat on his back.

“My ass is gonna get rug burn,” he joked, scrambling blindly above them for a pillow, which he snatched off the bed and shoved under his head.

“You asked me to wreck you, remember?”

“I dared you to wreck me.” He took himself in hand and ran the head of his cock through her folds, teasing her clit. “If it were a request, I’d have said please.”

She sank down quickly this time, grinding against him once they were flush. Colin’s brow furrowed and his teeth sank into his bottom lip, trapping a groan she could feel rumble against the palm pressed to his chest.

“Jesus, baby, you feel so good,” he said, breathy and awed and she couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

Before the night was over, Colin McCrory would be begging her to wreck him just a little harder, to fuck him just a little faster.

She set the pace, rising, falling, ending with a hip swivel that gave her the friction she desperately craved. Each time she dropped down, Colin’s cock bottoming out inside her, his grip on her thighs would turn bruising and a breathy punched-out moan would escape his lips. The sounds he made drove her almost as crazy as the way the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbed perfectly against her clit each time she ground against him.

Disappointingly soon, her knees started to ache from the floor, her thighs burning. Her rhythm faltered and she huffed, frustrated.

“Getting tired?” Colin teased, hands gliding up her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs sweeping over her nipples.

She covered his hands with hers, urging him to be less gentle with her. She wasn’t going to break. “No.”

“I don’t know. Looks to me like you need a break.” He took the hint and pinched until her face screwed up and her hips bucked, rolling rather than rising and—oh, that was good. “Need me to take over?”

“Shut up.” She leaned back, hips tilting, then rocked forward and that was even better. It probably wasn’t doing much for him, but for her it was fantastic.

“You gonna use me, baby? What am I, a toy to you?” Her breasts felt heavy in his hands, and this time when he pinched, a little cry fell off her tongue at the sting that shot from her chest to her cunt.

“Maybe you are.” She slapped at his hands. “And I thought I told you to shut up?”

He chuckled under his breath, hands returning to her hips, helping to drag her forward. “Make me.”

His lips were parted, his tongue curled against the back of his teeth. She’d never wanted to stick her fingers in someone’s mouth so badly.

Before she realized what she was doing, her fingers were resting against his bottom lip.

“Open,” she demanded, giving him the chance to tell her no if he wasn’t into it.

Without hesitating, Colin dropped his jaw, hot tongue swirling around the tips of her fingers, practically beckoning her inside. She held her breath and pressed past his lips, watching his face for a single sign of distress, finding none. His pupils were blown, swallowing up the chocolate brown of his irises the same way he swallowed her fingers, causing her to slip deeper, hitting the back of his throat. His hands trembled against her thighs, his lashes fluttering as his eyes rolled back, his hips bucking, moan muffled by her fingers in his mouth.

Her chest heaved and her thighs quivered and she could feel herself dripping, probably forming a wet spot on the rug beneath them. Two weeks ago, she’d have sworn nothing could top the sight of Colin McCrory on his knees. But now? This took the cake, Colin holding so still he shook, abs flexing and relaxing, a blotchy red blush mottling his skin all the way down to his belly button.

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