Page 76 of Chasing the Wild
“Oh, my god.” I blush so fucking hard and swat at his muscly arm. God damn, this man is carved from granite. “Says the man who didn’t say a single word to me for an entire week, but miraculously becomes the king of dirty talk.” All I can do is peek at him from beneath my lashes.
Colt’s lips tug at the corners, and his eyes dance with honeyed flecks swimming amongst the hazel. He looks so boyish and charming it makes my pathetic little heart swoon.
“The king, hmm?” He sets the bowl aside, then reaches for my chin, grasping it between his thumb and forefinger, before leaning down and brushing his lips against mine.
Sweet Jesus. My heart is officially plummeting like one of those freebasers. Only, I have no parachute strapped to me and the rocks below are rushing in at light speed.
“I like the idea of you being my queen,” he murmurs against my lips. “One who loves to rub her pussy all over my face and shatter around my cock like a fucking dream come true.”
There are no words. My brain has gone blank. All I’m capable of at this point is staring back with what I’m certain are big cartoon hearts in my eyes.
If I’ve got any hope of surviving this, I need to firmly ignore that first part about being his queen. He doesn’t mean that. This is just sex. A release for both of us after so much tension and longing.
I can’t go forgetting who I am and who this man is and that our time together is painfully finite.
“Are we done eating?” There’s a ragged noise as I clear my throat, but I’m basically just in a trance. Ready and willing to worship at the altar of Colt Wilder—sex god and rugged fantasy made flesh.
“Food? Yes.” He lets go of my chin, sliding firm hands underneath my ass, effortlessly lifting me, and I have to throw my arms around his neck to steady myself. “You? No. I’m nowhere near satisfied, angel.”
He ignores my squeal and carries me through the house, clinging to him, inhaling big hits of his woodsy scent like a woman possessed. It’s only when we get to his bedroom that things tumble into focus all over again.
This is real. This is happening.
He actually wants this… with me.
Seeing the inside of his bedroom for the first time feels so natural, yet at the same time I can’t hide the grin that threatens to overtake my face. There’s hardly time to glimpse more than a quick look at the neatly made bed with stone-colored soft coverings and white sheets I want to sprawl in, preferably while being spooned by this gorgeous man. Big sliding doors out ontothe porch. No clutter. But we’re already in his ensuite bathroom before I can really absorb it all.
When Colt sets me on my feet, there’s something I know I definitely want. My fingers snag the waistband of his jeans before he can move away in the direction of the tiled walk-in shower.
“Since you’ve taken such good care of me…” I’m channeling every ounce of confidence I can muster as my fingers work his button and fly. Biting down on my lower lip, my gaze holds his hooded expression. “Now it’s my turn.”
I’m back in that moment we had together when I was in his lap, and there was silent tension rolling around us like a forcefield. Colt wants this. His pupils grow with lust as he watches me, but something also tells me he’s not used to someone willingly taking care of him in this way.
“You want to get on your knees for me, angel?” His voice is thick with longing and so fucking sexy.
Nodding, I ease his jeans down past his hips, and he takes over to kick them off, then shucks his briefs. When I sink down in front of him, the sight of his cock is enough to have my thighs clench in renewed anticipation.
In this light and at this angle, impressive feels like barely enough of an adequate description to do him justice.
I’ve definitely never been with a man this blessed in the dick department before.
My eyes must say all of that, or maybe I accidentally blurted it out loud, but the man standing before me clears his throat. One calloused palm glides along my jaw, guiding me to look up at him.
“Need a towel for your knees, baby?”
God, this man. I nod and wait in place as he grabs the world's biggest and fluffiest-looking man-towel so I can kneel on it rather than the hard tiles.
As he stands back in front of me, his hard length bobs with a glistening bead at the tip, and that’s when I see it. My brows furrow a little, and my fingers lightly trace the markings on reflex. Silvery lines and puckered, stretched skin extend down his right thigh. It looks like a series of old wounds. Ones that have long since healed, but must have happened as a child, and from the looks of them were never properly taken care of. As I glance a little closer, I see some similar markings on his left thigh. Interspersed with scar tissue is what appears to be old burn marks, too.
“Part of my not-so-pleasant bedtime story.” He gathers my hair on top of my head and watches me as I take in the pain of his past.
No words can make any of it better, but I want to show him how sorry I am for what he’s been through. While ensuring he’s under no illusion that I’m bothered by the sight of his scars at all. He’s gorgeous, and these are a part of him, and he’s so fucking strong and secure and deserves to be utterly worshipped.
Leaning forward, I place a kiss over the largest area of puckered skin that sits on the front of his thigh. Then, feather more kisses, tracking down along the path of whatever wounds and awful things happened to him so long ago.
Colt’s fingertips brush against my scalp; he keeps hold of my hair, but it’s not rough or tugging. Just commanding enough that it sends a shudder through me.
Then there’s no more waiting for this, I’m desperate for a taste of this man. As I wrap my fingers around the base, his thick cock jerks in my grip.
