Page 64 of Brim Over Boot
“Colt…”
“I’mnot. Fuck off. Why would I call you while I’m—”
My words trail off into a moan as the carrot nudges against a place that feelsgood. Fuckingfinally. I was starting to worry my ass was broken.
Of course, my relief takes a hefty back seat to Noah’s voice in my ear reminding me of his presence. “We already established you didn’t mean to call,” he says slowly. Carefully. “Which begs the question… If you’re not jerking off, what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I huff, wanting desperately to nudge the carrot against that spot again that felt like fireworks.
“Colt,” he says dangerously. “You think I don’t remember what you sound like when you’re being pleasured?”
My skin flushes hot. Every inch of me, up in flames in an instant. It’s not embarrassment I feel, not exactly. But I’m not able to escape the reminder that Noah King, somehow, some way, was the one doing saidpleasuring.
Which is so fucking ridiculous I want to scream. Or cry.
“Tell me,” he demands, not letting it go. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
I shake my head, gnawing on the inside of my cheek, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Not wanting to admit I was so desperate to know what it feels like to be fucked that I grabbed a carrot and took matters into my own hands.
But this isn’t the same as being fucked. I know it isn’t.
And the tears in my eyes are frustration over that fact. That’s it. That’s all.
“Colt,” Noah says, his voice softer. “Would it help if I told you I’m stroking my own dick now? That the thought of you getting yourself off has me so hard I’m ready to blow?”
“What?” I breathe out. “Why?”
He huffs what might be a laugh, and I chance moving the carrot again. “Because, apparently, men turn me on. Even ones as annoying as you.”
“Fuck off.”
“There he is,” Noah says, sounding almost…tender. Which can’t be right. “Do you know what I’d be doing if I were there right now?”
My lungs catch, the tip of the carrot sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me as I fuck myself with it. “What? No. I don’t…fucking care.”
He hums. “I think you do. I’d stroke your cock for you, little Colt. Do you know why?”
I don’t answer right away, biting the inside of my lip so hard I draw blood. My cock is leaking now, pressure building in my balls as I continue massaging what must be my prostate, right? That has to be what feels so damn good. “I’m not little,” I finally manage.
He chuckles. “I asked you a question.”
I growl, my hips hitching off the bed.Fuck, I wish the carrot was bigger. Warmer.Something. “And, as I told you, I don’t care.”
Noah tsks. “Manners, little Colt. I’d take your cock in my hand because the sight of you at my mercy?” He whistles lowly. “It’s stunning.”
I lose my breath. For a second, I simply can’t breathe. “Hate you.”
“I know you do. Are you about to come?”
“No,” I grit out, my breath sawing out of me, my balls pulled so tight against my body and my spine so rigid I feel as if I could snap. “I don’t… I’m not…”
“Come, little Colt,” he coos. “Put your hand around your throat for me, and come.”
I don’t even have time to do as he asks before I’m falling over the edge. My cock jerks, cum pulsing onto my shirt as my muscles strangle the carrot in my ass. I feel out of my body, warmth blanketing me from the inside out, my nerve endings pinging and a wave of euphoria covering me so fully I want to sink into it and never escape.
It takes me a long moment to come back to myself. To realize I’m panting like I just ran a marathon. To notice my phone now lying beside me on the mattress. To remember the carrot in my hand, the tip of which is still lodged inside my ass.
Holy shit. Holyshit, holy shit.
