Page 109 of Friends Don't Kiss

He jerks his head back, surprise painted on his face, and for a fleeting moment I think he’s going to laugh—I even feel his dick hesitating—but thankfully that moment passes, a dark shadow passes through his gaze, his jaw clenches, and he realizes I’m serious.

“Twenty years, huh?” His thrusts accelerate.

“Yeah, babe,” I say, sliding my hands under his jacket and pulling his Henley up so I can rake his back. “Twenty years without pussy. And you get me. All to yourself.”

Sweat forms on his back with each of his thrusts. “Fucking hell. At an auction?”

“Yeah, babe. You won me at an auction.”

For a beat the only sound we make is the squelching of our joined sexes, the creaking of his jacket. I can almost hear him think. Then he says, “Tell me how that went.”

I swallow hard, the pleasure he’s giving me making it hard to speak. “I was on a stage… wearing almost nothing…” His powerful thrusts pin me against the hard countertop in rhythmic thuds, the absolute best. “And all these men were raising their paddles… but you… you… you wanted me the most so… you… you bid the highest.”

He locks eyes with me and stops moving inside me. “I did, huh. You bet I did.” He pulls out. “How much?” He pushes himself back in, and I moan, but he barely moves.

“More, Colt. More. In and out. More.”

He stops moving entirely. “How much did I bid on you?” His cock is twitching inside me, frustrating and pleasing me at the same time.

“Huh?”

He rolls my nipple, pulling on it slightly, his other hand holding his head like we’re having a casual conversation. “How much did I bid on you after twenty fucking years in prison?” He inches out of me, his tip at my entrance, an unbearable tease.

“Oh… A-a-a-a million dollars.”

“You bet I did.” And then he disappears and I’m left cold and alone, wondering what I did wrong, until he anchors his strong hands to my thighs and licks my clit.

No-no-no. I want him inside me. “Colt, please. Take me.”

“I been twenty fucking years without pussy, I spent a million dollars on this cupcake, I’m gonna do what I’m gonna do, sweets,” he growls while rubbing his nose against my clit.

Then he feasts on me until he brings me to the edge, his tongue teasing and circling, his fingers digging in my hips, his growls resonating inside me. When I’m about to come he lifts me as he stands and turns us so I’m against the fridge. “Slide that million-dollar pussy around my cock, you dirty little virgin,” he says as he pushes inside me.

He’s bigger and thicker than before, or maybe it’s the position, I don’t know, but I know he’s feeling it too because he’s losing it. In two quick movements his jacket is gone, the Henley is gone, and his glistening skin is against mine, our bodies tense and slick and demanding. “Come here, you little tease,” he says as he places one hand under my ass, touching my butthole. I squeeze in surprise. He slams a fist on the fridge as he powers in and out of me. “Atta girl. Show me what a million bucks gets me.”

I want to come and at the same time I don’t want the pleasure to stop. “Colt,” I say, deciding conversation is the way to extend this. “Colt. Babe.”

He throws his head back, his neck tense and dripping with sweat. I’m not sure he heard me.

“Babe, you know…” I start as he increases his thrusts.

But he brings his face back down, his eyes boring into mine, then he dips to my neck and suckles on it. This gets me crying out, “Colt!”

“That’s right, babe. My name on your lips when you come. I bought you at auction, ’member?” It’s his deep voice that sets me off. I think. Or the fact he’s playing the role of winner of the auction to a T. I bite his shoulder when I come, because the fridge is right next to the front door, and I discovered a few hours ago that I’m a screamer.

He grunts and shakes and grunts some more, then with a loud exhale, he grips me tighter and carries me to the bedroom, drops us both sideways, and cradles me while we catch our breaths. “Best auction ever,” he whispers.

My heart still beats like crazy from my orgasm. But more so from the way he wants me. It’s in the way he looks at me, the way he holds me, takes me, breathes me in.

“You know you can have this for free? All your life. Right?” I say, panting.

“Don’t cheapen yourself, sweets. Million bucks sex right there. Guaranteed. And the night is just beginning.”

Then he laughs and lifts me against his chest and moves us so our heads are on the pillows. He leans over to turn a side lamp on, and I instinctively bring the duvet to cover myself. “Are you cold?” he asks, lifting the duvet off me. His finger trails a path from the corner of my mouth to my neck, down between my breasts, then his palm flattens on my side and pulls me against him. “Mmm? Let me crank the heat up.”

“I’m good, Colt. Not cold.” Just a little self-conscious.

His gaze darkens. “You’re mine, sweets. I get to look at what’s mine. I get to savor it. Caress it. Possess it.”

---