She’s not crying, she’s whimpering. A soft moan trails out from under the door and I think my head mightfucking explode. I fight the urge to throw the door open and jump on her, and I do a pretty decent job of it until I hear my name slip out of her mouth, trailing out from under the door like a fucking siren song.
“God, Colt...yes.”
Jesus, fuck.
I slowly, carefully, turn the knob and crack the door open. The light is dim, but I can still easily make out the shape of her laid out on her stomach, one hand braced against the headboard and the other nowhere to be seen.
It’s impossible to miss the movement of her ass rocking up and down beneath the bedding. My cock is already hard, fighting for freedom against my pants, as I slip quietly into the room and close the door behind me, eyes glued to her while I listen to her moaning.
She startles when I climb onto the bed next to her and her eyes fly open when she sees me. Withdrawing her hand, she gasps, “Colt!”
“Shhh,” I whisper. “Don’t move.”
When she obeys, I draw my fingers to my mouth and pull them over my tongue, wetting them, then I slide them underneath her, trailing down her stomach to find my way between her legs.
She doesn’t need my help; she’s already so wet I can feel it all over her inner thighs. Almost on instinct, she pulls her knee back up, hiking her leg to give me easier access, and I slide two of my fingers inside of her, forcing a gasp out of her.
“Colt,” she whines.
She’s so tight, I let out a groan, imagining what she would feel like around my cock.
I press my fingertips against the sweet spot inside of her and keep my voice low and commanding.
“Fuck my hand like you were fucking yours.”
She lets out a gasp, almost as if she wants to protest, but her hips start to roll against me, and I work my fingers toreward her, matching her gentle rhythm. The hand previously against the headboard reaches up to grip it again like it’s a lifeline. I press deeper into her.
“Faster.”
Following the command, she moves faster against my hand, panting into her pillow and letting out sweet little moans that make me ache.
“That’s it, baby,” I tell her. “There’s my good girl.”
“Oh god,” she breathes, “don’t stop.”
Her hips continue to buck against my hand until she’s holding onto the headboard with a white-knuckle grip and sounds like she’s damn near on the verge of tears, her body shaking, but she won’t let herself go. She’s enjoying it too much to give in.
I pull my fingers out, earning a whiny ‘Colt’ in response, and I pull her body until she’s sitting in my lap, her back pressed against my chest.
I reach around the front of her and slide those fingers back inside. She gasps, reaching behind her to grab onto the back of my head. My free hand slides up her baggy t-shirt – I’m almost positive it’s the same one of mine that she wore her first night here – and I palm her breast before gently pinching at her nipple.
“I- Colt, ah-” she gasps.
I curl my fingers around that sweet spot and work them hard against it, moving my hand from her breast to push against at her lower stomach.
Her body tightens in response, making me growl into her ear. I move my lips to her neck, biting and sucking at her skin, then trail my tongue from the crook of her neck to just below her earlobe.
“Say my name again, baby.”
“Colt!”
“Good girl,” I tell her. “Now come for me.”
Her ass grinds against my aching cock as she dives headfirst over the cliff, orgasm coursing through her. Her fiststays wrapped in my hair, pulling as she rides the wave of it, crying out.
As she comes down, her grip loosens on me and I withdraw my fingers from her. I pull them into my mouth and suck away every drop of her pleasure stuck to them, groaning my approval in her ear as I do.
Just as sweet as I thought she would be.
