Page 225 of Things Left Unsaid

The two sides of my brain go to war.

Colton—reasonable, polite, apathetic.

Colt—the man. The leader. The husband.

The second is the one who grinds out, “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”

A cry escapes her. “You. Always you.”

And that’s what I’ve needed to hear for years.

I just didn’t know it until now.

She’s always been mine.

Always.

Drenching my fingers in her, I retreat to her clit and give her what she begged for—me.

I want her pleasure. Now.

I want to hear her cries. Now.

I want to feel her response to me. Now.

It’s deliciously immediate.

She grows tense on my lap, her limbs locking up as she jerkily rides my fingers, and when she releases a hoarse cry as she clamps her thighs around my hand, I know she got off.

The butt of my wrist finds the tender nub next as I thrust two thick digits into her. “You’re so tight.” I groan. “I can’t wait to fill you up.”

Her moan is guttural. “That’s all I want.”

“All?” I half-tease.

“Yes,” she hisses, then she proves that even in this state, she knows me too well. “Don’t tease me!”

I spread her wider, feeling the walls flutter around me. “Only my dick’ll do?”

Her nails swipe at the fingers still holding her throat in place. “Yes.” Another hiss. “Give it to me.”

“You’re bossy when you’re riled up, huh?” I rumble in her ear, biting the lobe this time as I simultaneously fuck her with my hand.

Though she yelps, it doesn’t stop her mumbling, “Your cock, Colt. I need it. Give it to me. God, your fingers… they don’t… Deeper. Please. Jesus?—”

Fired up, I release my hold on her. Entirely. Before she can so much as release a cry of complaint, I’m lifting her onto my lap.

When her head bumps the roof, I cringe, “Sorry, babe.”

She rubs the point of collision but she’s smiling which eases my guilt. “You wanna rub it better, cowboy?”

“I’ll rub something better.”

“Promises, promises.” She winks. “You should have warned me this would be where we’d end up. I wouldn’t have worn skinny jeans.”

“But your ass looks so great in them.”

“You feel like cutting them off me?”

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