Page 175 of Beautifully Reckless

And Idotaste myself. It’s intoxicating, the way he dives his tongue deep into my mouth, just the way he did inside my pussy. I moan as he deepens the kiss, feeling the thick head of his dick slide through my wetness and nudge at my entrance.

“Colour?” he rasps into our kiss.

“What?” I’m too far gone to understand what he’s talking about as I try to suck his tongue, but I end up trying to chase it as he snatches it away.

“Fuuuck, Angel. Colour.”

He’s pressing into me slowly, like he’s trying to hold back, and I frown, trying to see his face, but he’s too close, his forehead to mine as I part my legs wider.

“Colour?” I ask, feeling dazed. Fuzzy.

Shifting back, Ringo’s face finally comes into view, and I notice how he’s trying to hold himself up so he doesn’t press his weight against the swell of my bump.

“Fuck, Angel. Come on. Are you green? Please tell me you’re fucking green.”

His voice is strained and I realise he’s holding back, the head of his dick the only part that has breached my entrance.

Green?

Shit. Green. Colour. How could I forget?

“Oh! Green. Yes, green, please.”

A low rumble reverberates in his chest as my words spur him on, and he finally feeds his thick shaft into me.

My back arches off the bed, something close to perfect satisfaction rippling through me at the feel of him there again. Stretching me. Filling me.

“The way you squeeze my cock… I’ll never get enough of it.”

His words are grunted, deep and strained as he eases out slowly, and then back in again.

I don’t understand how it’s possible for my body to be lighting up again so soon, but every nerve ending in my body is alive, glowing brighter with each thrust of his hips. I’m lost to him. Completely caught up in everything he is, watching his face contort with a pinched frown as his eyes drop to where he enters me, and then back to my face.

Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, or maybe I’m still just as naive as I was months ago, but it’s not until this moment, as I watch him rock into me, taking the lead that I realise why he was asking if I was still green.

We haven’t had sex this way before. With him in a controlling position, hovering over me while all I can do is take what he’s giving.

After my freak out on our wedding night, he’s let me be the one to call the shots. I was the one to lower onto his dick. I was the one to rise and fall and grind, taking what I needed while helping him over the line.

He was the one that had to hold on for the ride.

Now, without me even realising, the tables have turned, and I’m not even remotely upset about it.

Any rawness I’m feeling has to do with the fact that I wish I could have let him claim me like this sooner.

“Colour,” he rasps again, obviously picking up that for a few moments, I’ve been lost in my head.

“Still green,” I pant, feeling the way my cheeks burn with something more than desire. Then I dig deep, pulling from that bold,reckless part of me this man brings out so well… and let her loose.

“Fuck me, Cam.”

This time, his growl is as ravenous as his thrusts, his fingers sliding between us to circle my clit, and I arch, my hands fisting the sheets, bracing myself as I hold on.

In this moment, there’s nothing but me and Ringo.

I’m not beautifully wounded by my past.

There’s no trauma between us. Just heat, sweat, and something that feels dangerously close to love.

---