Instantly, he pulls back from our kiss. “Dee, what are you doing?” he demands, yanking the sheets aside to look down at me.
“I’m touching myself,” I say, voice low and seductive.
Our eyes lock as I slowly swirl my finger again, moaning softly at the delicious friction.
He looks torn.
He’s turned on as hell but also furious. “Dee, c’mon,” he growls.
I ignore him, letting out a needy sound as I circle faster. “Kiss me, Colt,” I murmur.
But instead of leaning in, he grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away.
I frown, frustrated, my body aching for more.
“Why’d you do that?” I ask breathlessly.
He closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s trying to find his balance and control. When he opens them, they’re blazing with lust. “Because, Dee,” he says, voice rough. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. And I want all your pleasure to come from me. No one else. Not even you.” The possessiveness in his tone sends a fresh wave of heat through me.
But I roll my eyes, stubborn as ever, determined to find my release. So, I move my hand back down, fingers slipping between my thighs to find my clit again. The instant I touch myself, a moan spills out, my head falling back against the pillow.
“Dee!” Colt snaps, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away again.
“Colt, seriously! If you’re not going to touch me, then I’m going to do it. I’m horny, and I need a release. You don’t want to deny me that,do you?”I challenge, blinking up at him through my lashes.
“Yes, Dee. I do want to deny you that,” he grits out. “It hurts you. I’m not letting you hurt yourself.”
I chuckle, exasperated but still burning for him. “Fine. I’ll wait till you’re asleep and finish myself off then,” I mutter, pulling the covers over me.
He huffs, shaking his head. “No, you won’t,” he says darkly. “No one gets your pleasure, Dee. Not even you.” The possessive dominance in his voice only makes my core throb harder.
“Fine,” I taunt, smirking.
“If you won’t let me do it when you’re asleep, I’ll do it now.” And before he can stop me, my hand slides back toward my soaking pussy.
He groans and snatches hold of my wrist, halting my hand before I can touch myself. The force of it has me panting with need. Colt pins my wrist above my head, leaning over me, his gaze locked on mine. “You’re not gonna stop until you get what you want, are you?” he mutters.
My eyes, heavy with lust, stay locked on his as I shake my head slowly, smiling wickedly.
Another groan tears from his throat, and then his mouth crashes to mine. I meet his kiss fiercely, my tongue sweeping into his mouth while he keeps my wrist trapped tight in his grasp.
“I love you, Dee,” he breathes against my lips. “And if this hurts you, I’m gonna be fucking furious. But you forced my hand because I won’t let you touch yourself. Now you better scream for me, baby.” His voice is low and guttural, sending a shiver through my whole body. He releases my wrist and slides his hand down the length of me until he’s exactly where I need him.
My plan worked perfectly.
His mouth claims mine again as his fingers find my clit, circling in slow, devastating movements. I gasp into his mouth, arching my hips to grind against his touch, desperate for more. He swirls over the bundle of nerves, and my body ignites, trembling under his hand. The long build-up has left me so strung out that even the lightest contact feels like fire racing over my skin.
Every slow swirl, every precise stroke, has me moaning into his mouth, my breathing ragged. His own groan vibrates against my lips, his thick erection pressing hard against my hip, proof that he’s just as lost in this as I am.
The room fills with the sounds of our moans and broken gasps, the sheets rustling beneath us.
I’m close—so close—my body locking up tight, toes curling as the tension coils low in my belly. Then, with one final swirl of Colt’s finger, pleasure crashes through me, and I cry out against his mouth. The orgasm rips through me, but with it comes a sharp pain, tearing at my scar just like last time.
I hide my grimace, masking it with the cries of release before his hand stills.
He immediately moves his touch to my stomach, just above the scar, as if sensing the shift in me that I tried to hide from him.
I cling to his kiss, needing it, riding out the pain while he strokes soothing circles over my skin.
