“You taste so good.” He smiles against my mouth.
“You better not change your favorite candy to copy me.”
“It’s not the flavor of sour keys I’m after, honey. Your kisses are always so fucking sweet.” He playfully licks my bottom lip, sending a sharp zing of electricity to my clit. “Makes me wonder…”
Hoping I know the answer, I whisper, “Wonder what?”
Slowly letting my hand fall away from his, he toys with the hem of my dress. His hand moves back and forth over the top of my thigh. My knees naturally fall open, creating a gap between my thighs on the off chance he wants to slip his hand between them.
Colt’s lips press to my hair, his stuttering breath a warm balm on my scalp. His pulse is so much faster now—more of a rough gallop than a steady thrum.
The slow walk of his fingers up my thighs, pulling my dress along with them, makes my core clench. It’s been so long since a man took his time like this, ensuring he feels every inch of my skin.
A shiver races up my spine when he grazes the edge of my underwear. Then across the front, so he undoubtedly realizes how hot and wet I already am. He draws small swirls through the fabric with a touch so faint my skin tingles in anticipation of more.
When my hips lift, he presses a little firmer to keep me down, putting an intense amount of pressure directly on myclit with the heel of his hand. I stifle a moan, aching for more of the same. Preferably without the thin cotton between us. And I bite back yet another when I imagine it’s his tongue.
“Please.” I’m already writhing in his arms. Shifting and leaning, frenetic in my need for relief.
Letting out a shaky exhale, Colt lets his hand slide up and under the top of my underwear. He strokes the small patch of dark hair there, and I focus all my energy on staying perfectly still. Inhaling the strong, manly scent of his body wash, I blindly reach to turn the radio dial down—all I want to hear is our breathlessness and the roughness of his erratic heart as he slides lower.Lower.
I close my eyes. The world beyond us melts away.
Breath quickening, I bite at my lower lip, relishing his hardened fingers gliding down either side of my entrance. It’s fucking torturous and divine and I’ve never been this wet in my life.
“Fuck, Whit. I—God,your pussy’s so soft.” His voice sounds pained.
At last, he slips through my wet arousal, and a moan—frayed and full of desperation—escapes both of our lips. Tipping my head back, I suck his lower lip into my mouth, sinking my teeth into the flesh as he makes sharp contact with my clit.
One soft flicker of a touch against my oversensitive nerves, and I’m a seismic tremor. I’m dragging my hand through his hair, yearning for him to kiss me with everything he has, touch me until I’m a boneless puddle on his truck’s bench seat.
“You’re so…” He loses his words at the same moment his middle finger sinks deep into my pussy. He throws his head back to hit the headrest, moaning as if he’s the one on the receiving end of this pleasure. “Perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.”
“Didn’t you want to see what she tastes like?” I grindagainst his hand, ensuring the heel hits my clit while he’s lost in the feeling of my muscles contracting around his finger.
For a split second, I regret reminding him when he withdraws his hand, but then he sucks my arousal from his finger with a whimper. “So sweet. Honey really is the perfect nickname for you, Whit. Your kisses are sugary sweet, and your pussy tastes better than I ever could’ve imagined.”
I lick my lips, staring up at him through my lashes. “Yeah?”
His damp knuckles pet my cheek. “Want to try?”
“I think I’ll wait until I can taste myself on your cock.”
He groans, quickly reaching down to adjust himself. Even through the jeans, I can feel it against my back—stiff and large. And I want it, but not in a small truck cab surrounded by a ton of other vehicles filled with people.
“Holy shit, Whit. You’re going to make me come in my fucking pants again, talking like that.”
Again?
He disrupts my thought before I can ask it by sliding his warm hand back down the length of my body, stopping to squeeze my breast. His fingers softly touch my pebbled nipples through my dress, and I physically ache, my body curling into him.
Colt continues south, bunching my dress around my waist and tugging at my underwear. I slip my hand in to help get them down the rest of the way, then I give a swift flick of my ankle to lose them entirely. Who knows why I even bothered putting any on when I assumed they’d end up on the floorboard of his pickup eventually?
I gasp at the intrusion of not one, but two, fingers this time, and widen my hips to allow the curl of his knuckles. Our next kiss is hungry, devouring each other as he finds a rhythm with the fingers of his right hand pressed to my G-spot and the other hand creating tension in my swollen clit. It tingles under my skin, quaking in my insides and traveling down to my flexed toes.
“More, more,” I say through a high-pitched cry. The raspy sounds coming from his lips nearly tip me over the edge. “Don’t you fucking stop.”
My head lolls on his hard, heaving chest, and I rock myself back and forth against his hand. Like water rushing against a crumbling dam, the pressure builds, small trickles of pleasure already seeping through the cracks.
