Page 78 of Chasing the Wild
“Oh, god. Oh, god.” I moan. Arching my spine and spinning out of my head already at that stretch that feels so fucking incredible.
“Squeeze me just like that, my perfect girl.” Colt presses forward, and I can’t help the whimpers tumbling past my lips. I’m begging and pleading and wanting him to fuck me senseless.But he’s going so torturously slow. “Christ, you’re so fucking tight.”
Colt fills me and withdraws right to the tip, keeping me pressed against the shower wall, with my spine curved so he can sink so deep I’m seeing stars instantly. There’s a spot he hits that has my body clenching and gripping him in ecstasy, one that I didn’t know was even possible for it to feelthis good.
“Give it to me, angel. Then I’m going to have you in my bed, and you’re going to give me one more.”
“Fuck, I’m so close.” My toes curl, and my clit throbs, and I’m panting—spiraling toward the edge of this next climax with each pump of his hips against my ass.
His hands roam in tender caresses, over every inch of my soft flesh. Colt maps my body, tracing the crease at the tops of my thighs and over the swell of my stomach. Finding my aching full breasts, he pinches my nipples until I’m crying out with pleasure. All the while, that wicked mouth unleashes a torrent of dirty talk in time with each slow, deep thrust of his cock. Combining to unravel me into a million fractured pieces.
As the warmth of the shower beats down, he slides one hand over my pussy, and finally—finally gives me the relief I’ve been aching for.
“That’s it. I can feel you squeezing the life out of me, angel. I know you’re close. You’re doing so well.” Colt talks me through it, dipping a finger through my pussy lips to rub firm circles over my swollen clit, and I’m flying, soaring. White-hot sparks travel up from my toes, and the warmth of his voice right at my ear takes me over the crest. This time, my climax thunders through me, and I’m a whimpering, shaking mess.
“Such a good girl for me.”
His praise is right there, sliding over my heated skin, flowing with the ease and fluidity of the shower as he keeps pumping slow glides in and out of my channel. Massaging my clit, heguides me down from somewhere way up in the midst of the clouds high above the ranch somewhere.
I don’t even think I’m fully back to earth when I feel the shower cut off, and Colt pulls out of me. Wrapping me in a towel, I’m tugged into his bed. He hasn’t come yet, but exactly as promised, proceeds to spend the rest of the night between my thighs.
Leaving my heart fluttering a wild, pathetic rhythm that answers only to the name of this cowboy.
Chapter 22
Waking up, there’s no hiding the smile that immediately finds itself at home on my lips. I feel like I must have spent the whole night grinning because my cheeks are sore.
Actually, make that, my entire body feels sore… but in a deliciously, filthy way.
Colt certainly made true on his promises of not getting much sleep.
With teeth dragging across my bottom lip, I brush my touch over the imprint of his fingers left on my hips. After the shower, he tugged me down on top of him once we’d finally made it to the bedroom.
“Ride me, angel. Give me one more.”
Holy shit. The man dragged yet another orgasm out of me, when I was certain there was no fucking way my body could possibly reach one more climax. Only, this time when it claimed me, the sensation was slow and rolling and languid, picking me up and spiriting me away as he let go with his own release.
I’m more than a little groggy with the lack of sleep. It feels like his hands were on me, and his giant cock was buried inside me only a few moments ago, yet as I turn my head, stretching like a cat beneath the thick blanket, my hulking cowboy has vanished.
There’s only the hypnotizing scent of him, and the unfamiliar feel of his soft bed linen to cradle me this morning.
If it could even still be considered morning.
My head pops up off the pillow, scanning the room and listening for any hint of where Colt might be.
But everything is peacefully quiet, with no wind howling or creaking sounds roaming through the house like I’ve become accustomed to whenever there’s a storm front whipping across Devil’s Peak.
Wriggling around, I move to toss the covers aside and go in search of something to wear—because I am most definitely still completely naked and in the bed of my ex-boyfriend's father—when my eyes fall on the sight of my phone on the bedside table, a note tucked beneath it.
I don’t remember where I left my cell last night. Colt must have fetched it for me, and my heart does backflips and cartwheels that he didn’t want to wake me, but that he’s gone to the effort of leaving this right here for me to find easily.
Do not go reading anything into it, Layla.
The attempt at sternly talking to myself does nothing to deter my silly little heart from giggling and skipping circles inside my chest.
His handwriting is kind of scrawling, but easily legible. Black ballpoint on a lined sheet torn from a spiral notebook with the top of the page all ragged where he’s ripped it out.
It’s so very… him.
