Page 120 of The Breaking Pointe
see it?” I beg, resting my chin on his belly, right above his belt line.
“Mm, you wanna see it?”he asks tenderly.
I nod.“I wanna see just how hard you are for me,” I whisper, wrapping my fingers around the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down with his pants, inciting him to breathe heavier as I pull them down his thighs.
Now face to face with the tip, I kiss it, and softly grab hold. “You’re so big, baby. I want it in every way,” I coo, kissing it again before opening my mouth wide and dragging my tongue along the length from the middle to the tip.
“It’s all yours, sweetheart.Only if you’re done being bad,” he huskily replies, moving some hair from my face.
“I promise, I’m done…” I quietly respond, beginning to stroke it as slow as possible.
He clenches his jaw. “Are you? Cause I don’t think you are. You love teasing me too much.” He shakes his head.
He’sabsolutelyright.
“I’m sorry. You play my games so well that I can’t resist. I need to see how hard I can make you work for it,” I admit, kissing the tip once again, and then engulfing all of him into my mouth. I fit his entire length, gagging at the tip reaches the back of my throat, knowing damn well I can’t stay like this forever. But I can damn sure try.
“Woah, woah…not too much,” he rasps. “Uh-uh. I wanna be in you,” he says, jerking his hips back to pull himself out of my mouth, making me gasp for air.
Holding a thumb out, he wipes underneath my lips, then takes me by the hips, lifting me up further on the bed and dropping me underneath him. He then crawls on top of me, restinghisarmnexttomyheadtoholdhimselfupashe
goes about kissing my jaw. As his lips hit my skin, so do two of his fingers right on top of my clit, massaging it in circles. “God, you’re soaked for me, sweetheart…” He lets out a breathy laugh against my skin, kissing it again as his fingers slide down my wet folds, gliding them inside me with ease.
His fingers are huge—and it’s usually almost as good as having the real thing.
A moan escapes my mouth without my control, sending his lips right against mine, quieting me with repeated kisses and words in between.
“We need…” he kisses me twice, “to be quiet…” he breathes, kissing me twice more.
“I-I can’t,” I stutter, slamming my hand against the nape of his neck, squeezing it as he curls his fingers inside of me. “Yes,youcan,”hemumbles,kissingmychestashe continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me, grasping
the sheets beside my head tighter.
Shoving my fingers through his hair, I tangle my fingers in it, looking him dead in his face.“Please…I need you, and I can’t wait any longer,” I beg.
Amused by this, a demented smile appears on his face. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of me, and pushes his pants and boxers down further until he can kick them off. Quickly after, he pushes his body into mine, catching hold of my thighs and wrapping them around his waist.
He buries his head in my neck and sighs. “I’m drunk…but not drunk enough to forget that we need a condom,” he speaks against my skin, sounding rather annoyed.
“Colton.”I take a few fingers to his hairy chin, making him look at me again. “Fuck the stupid condom, okay? I’mon birth control for a reason.Just put itin me,andmake
sure you pull it out in time.”
“Deal.”He nods quickly, dropping his eyes to my lips while gently pushing himself in my entrance.
“Alltheway,”Iwhisper,brushingournosestogether.
His eyes shut as he listens to my request, fitting himself into me more.When his hips finally touch mine, my nails curl against his chest, nearly shaking at the feeling of him filling me all the way.He doesn’t stop there, and doesn’t let me down.Rolling his hips inward, I feel him sink into me, again and again, roughing up the skin of our hips the more they brush together. With each thrust, he’s in my ear, breathing down my neck like he’s yearned for my body this entire night. Making me feel wanted in every way he can.
“You have no idea what you do to me…” he heavily rasps against my neck, burying his head there as he pins one of my wrists above my head.
“Faster…”Iwhimper.
Raising his body above me further, he pins my other wrist, slithering his fingers up to my hands to lock them with mine. The bed responds in the worst way possible, now rocking along with our rhythm—making the headboard chime in with the fun as it bashes into the wall.
“Shit,” he snaps, glancing at the headboard then backat me, slamming his hand on it to stabilize the movement. When our eyes meet again, his look is more determined than before, tightening his jaw as intensely as he possibly can.
I hold my breath, trying to hide my next moan—knowing it’ll be loud if I let it out. Instead, I stutter what I can without blowing our cover.
