Page 50 of Colt
And now he’s my ticket to pleasure. We’re close, so close, our bodies pressed together, and what really stuns me is just how natural the progression feels. How right it is. How much it’s not weird, even though it should be.
I lift my hand, and I skim my thumb over his lower lip, over the whiskers on his chin, along the line of his jaw. He’s so beautiful.
Forbidden. This was the one thing I wasn’t supposed to do. I wasn’t supposed to do this. I wasn’t supposed to show my hand.
But I have.
“Kiss me,” he says.
He’s leaving it up to me. His hand is pressed against my lower back, and his other rests at his side. He’s waiting for me to take it there.
I bite my lower lip, and I look at him. Then I lift both my hands so that they’re bracketing his face. I want to savor this moment. I jumped in with both feet. He’s my stepbrother. My lifelong fantasy. I’m straddling his lap. I’ve got his hard cock pressed up against me. I’m going to savor this moment. I’m going to linger in it. Let it take a little bit of time. Because it’s already taken ten years. So I might as well take this breath. Take these few ticks of the clock. To really let it sink in that it’s him. Finally.
I lean in, press my mouth to his, just slightly. Then I move to the left corner of his lips, kissing him across the width of that mouth. Then moving back to the center again and kissing him a bit more deeply. He groans beneath me, two hands going to my hips as he pulls me down hard against him. And I arch my back in pleasure.
I think it’s going to happen here. Right here on the couch. But this is perfect. The ideal position given his leg.
“I haven’t wanted this. For weeks now. Haven’t even had fantasies. Not until you. You got under my skin, Allison.”
My name on his lips is enough. Tortured, broken. My name on his lips is enough to make me feel special. It’s enough to make me feel wanted in this moment. I’ll take it. I’ll cling to it and let it make this feel real. Make it feel right. Because I needed. I need him.
And I’m going to claim him.
I lean back and grip the hem of my hoodie. Pull it off. I don’t have anything on underneath, and my breasts are bare, right in his face. It was like that when he gripped my hip when I tripped in the kitchen. But this time, there’s no fabric between us. I can see him take a breath, hold it. A muscle in his jaw jumps like he’s tense. Trying to hold himself together. Trying to keep steady. Then his hands move up my bareback, fingertips tracing the line of my spine as he pushes me forward, bringing my nipples up against his lips. His tongue darts out, tasting the tip of one, and my whole body shudders.
Oh God.
He’s going to kill me. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And I’m going to be so mad when I have to tell Sarah that I know now that sex can actually be amazing.
No. I can’t tell her. I can’t tell anyone. No one can ever know that this happened between me and Colt. I have to remember that.
It would make the town dynamics so weird. Our family dynamic is so weird. We just can’t.
But… I can’t not have him. I can’t.
Right as I think that, he parts his lips, blows against my nipple, turning it into a point so hard it could cut glass. Then he draws it deep into his mouth, sucking hard. Men have donethis to me before. But it hasn’t felt like this. It’s that indefinable chemistry that feels so unfair. Because I didn’t ask to feel this for Colt. But I do. It’s beyond me.
“You’re just perfect,” he groans. He presses a hot kiss to the valley between my breasts before moving his attention to the next one. Sucking my other nipple deep into his mouth, and the sound he makes – one of pure helplessness – lets me know that I’m not alone in this. That he felt just the same way I do. That he is helpless in the face of this chemistry. What does it matter when it happened for him? He feels it. He didn’t think about sex since the accident, and now he wants me. So I don’t care if he ever wanted me before. I don’t care how many women he’s been with. I don’t care about anything but how good this feels. As long as the chemistry exploding between us is mutual, that’s all that matters.
He moves his hands up, cups my breasts, thumbs skimming over my damp nipples. Then he pinches me lightly. I feel an answering pulse at the center of my core. He moves his hands down my midsection, pushes one down beneath the waistband of my sweats. Finds me bare underneath. He growls when his fingertip makes contact with my core. I’m so wet. I know he feels that. He moves deeper, touches me more intimately. One finger pushing inside of me with ease because I’m just so ready for him.
It’s all moving too fast, and not fast enough. I want it to go on forever. I want him inside me now. I wish that I could draw it out. Part of me does. I wish I could be on the precipice of having not quite done this for just a little bit longer. That I could be in this in-between space, where it’s happening, but nothing bad has happened because of it.
If there’s one thing I know all too well about life it’s that time moves on relentlessly, even if you wanted to stop. You can’t freeze moments. No matter how much you wish you could.
And so I have to accept that time is going to keep marching on, and this will finish, and it will be as bad an idea as seems, but at least I’ll have had his hands on me.
I have to stop thinking. I have to just surrender.
I am – often – the enemy of my own pleasure. But this thing between the two of us is so powerful, I’m not sure that I’m strong enough to dampen the pleasure.
I’m the one who shifts, gets up on my knees so that I can pull my sweatpants down, work them down just enough, so that I can kick them off on the floor. I’m naked on his lap, and he’s wearing just his underwear.
Now I feel like it’s my turn.
I rock myself against him, as I press my hands against his chest. It’s bare and gorgeous, and I cannot believe I’m touching Colt Campbell’s chest. I’m naked, and I feel like touching his chest shouldn’t necessarily be the thing making my circuits go haywire right now, but it feels like it is.
It really feels like it is.
