“More,” she says, voice raw. “Harder, Colton, please!”
“Whatever you want, trouble,” I say, slapping her ass just to hear the sound. She yelps, then moans, pushing back on me with every stroke.
I lean over, wrap an arm around her waist, and reach between her legs. I rub her clit in time with my thrusts, feeling her start to unravel again.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Such a perfect, greedy little whore. You love it, don’t you? Getting stuffed full like this.”
She whines, high and desperate. “Yes! Yes, don’t stop!”
She comes again, whole body shaking, and I don’t stop. I keep going, chasing my own release. When I finally come, it’s with a roar, hips slamming against her, filling her up. I stay there, knotted inside her, both of us shaking and gasping for air.
For a while, it’s just the sound of our breathing and the distant, muted cheer of the crowd. I stroke her back, smoothing her hair, feeling more complete than I ever have in my life.
When we finally separate, we’re a mess. Her skirt is wrinkled, her hair wild, and her cheeks flushed. My shirt is untucked, jeans barely zipped. We fix ourselves up, laughing, and I pull her into my arms one more time, kissing her slowly.
“You okay?” I ask, thumb brushing her cheek.
She nods, smiling. “Better than okay.”
I help her stand, straightening her jersey, and we stumble back to the main seats.
When the home team hits a walk-off homer in the ninth, the sky goes nuclear, just like I promised. She gasps at the fireworks, then turns to me and says, “Okay, now it’s perfect.”
I squeeze her hand, feeling the pulse of her through my skin. “Told you.”
The field is emptying out, the crowd thinning, but neither of us wants to leave yet.
We sit side by side, holding hands, watching the maintenance crews sweep up peanut shells and confetti. Every so often, she leans over and kisses me, just because.
When it’s finally time to go, I tuck her under my arm, holding her close. We walk out through the private exit, past the bored security and the last few stragglers, and into the night with Saint and Fox behind us.
Outside, the air is cool and clean, the stadium lights fading behind us.
I let her go just long enough to open the car door, then pull her in close again, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She looks up, eyes wide. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
I grin. “Depends. Do you want me to?”
She rolls her eyes, but then she does it. She pulls me in, soft and quick, her lips warm against mine.
I kiss her back, and I don’t hold anything back.
She looks up at me, eyes soft and shining. “You know I really do love you, right?”
I pull her close, bury my nose in her hair, and breathe her in. “Yeah,” I say. “I know.”
She’s the only thing that matters.
And I’ll never let her forget it.
Saint
PHOENIX PACK SECURITY BRIEF #148
BRITTNEY RYAN SCHEDULED HEAT PROTOCOL
June 25th