Wes didn’t hesitate.
He got up off his knees and moved toward the bed on legs that felt like wet rope.
His heart hammered so loud he could hear it in his ears, because this was it, this was really happening, and there was no road back to the kid he had been that morning.
Colleen stayed on her hands and knees in the middle of the wrecked white sheets with her back arched and her dark hair spilled everywhere, and she looked back at him over one shoulder with a smirk that had no mercy left in it.
“Stop staring and get up here, baby, before I change my mind.”
He climbed onto the mattress behind her and his eyes fell on the gold foil packet sitting on the nightstand, and he reached for it with shaking fingers.
Colleen snatched it out of his hand and tossed it over her shoulder.
“No. I want to feel you, all of you, no wrapper between us. I’ll take care of the rest tomorrow, so don’t you dare argue with me right now.”
“Are you sure?” said Wes.
“Baby, I have wanted this for eight years. I’m not sharing it with anything. Now come here.”
He grabbed her hips and guided himself in, and the second he pushed past her lips a bolt of pure electricity shot through his whole body.
She was hot and soaked and impossibly tight around him and it felt like glory and a total overload of all his senses at once.
Colleen let out a long loud moan and her fingers dug into the sheets.
“GOD YES! Oh god, you’re bigger than I dreamed, it’s been so long!”
“You dreamed about this?” said Wes, his voice cracked in half.
“Every single night for eight years,” said Colleen, pushing her hips back to swallow him to the base.
“Now move, before I lose my mind.”
He started moving and it was clumsy and frantic with no rhythm and no plan at all, his hips slapping against her ass..
He gasped like a drowning man, but her moans got louder with every thrust and every single moan was fuel.
He gripped her waist hard enough to leave marks and found something like a rhythm, and the headboard started knocking against the wall in a steady beat.
“I can’t, I can’t hold it,” he groaned.
“Then don’t,” said Colleen, grinding back into him.
“Cum inside me. Fill me up. I want all of it, baby.”
He slammed in deep one final time and came so hard his vision went white, his whole body locking up and shaking as he emptied himself into her with a strangled shout, and when it was over he collapsed onto her back completely spent with both of them gasping for air.
For a long moment nobody moved, then Colleen turned her head and he saw the smirk.
Wes wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
“I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” said Colleen while she wiggled out from under him and rolled him onto his back.
“It was your first time, nobody lasts the first time, and the real question is whether you’re done or not.”
She reached down and wrapped her hand around him, still slick from her, and started working him slow while he hissed through his teeth and grabbed the sheets.
The sting of oversensitivity melted into fresh heat deep in his stomach and his body answered her before his brain got a vote.
“See that?” said Colleen with a wicked grin.
“Young and greedy. You come back fast.”
She slid down the bed and took him into her mouth, cleaning him off with slow wet strokes of her tongue until his head fell back against the pillow and his toes curled.
When she pulled off with a wet pop she was grinning like she had just won the lottery.
“Good boy. Now this time you last longer, because I am nowhere near finished with you.”
She climbed on top and sank down onto him slow with her head falling back and her palms pressing his chest flat against the mattress, and this time there was no panic and no white noise.
This time he watched her ride him with her heavy tits bouncing with every move, and he put his hands on her hips and started meeting her halfway, driving up into her every time she came down until she gasped and her rhythm broke.
“There you go,” she breathed.
“There’s my boy.”
Then he flipped her.
He didn’t plan it, his body just did it, one second he was pinned under her and the next she was on her back with her legs wrapped around his waist and her eyes going wide, and he pushed back into her and set his own pace, deeper, slower, mean, watching her face the whole time.
“Oh, so now you’ve got a spine,” said Colleen, laughing, and then the laugh broke into a moan when he hit something that made her toes curl.
“Right there, right there, don’t you dare stop…”
He didn’t dare.
He held the pace and watched this woman who had owned every room he had ever walked into fall apart underneath him, clawing at his back, biting his shoulder, saying his name over and over, until she came with a cry she tried to swallow and couldn’t, clamping down around him so hard he followed her right over the edge with a groan from somewhere under his stomach.
They ended up tangled together in the dark with the city glowing behind the curtains, her head on his chest and her fingers drawing lazy circles on his stomach while his hand moved slow up and down her back. Read this novel at novelping . com for the best experience.
The room smelled like perfume and sweat and the two of them, and nothing else in the world existed.
“Hey,” said Wes quietly.
“Mm,” said Colleen.
“You’re not a furniture.”
Her fingers stopped moving.
“You said that already,” she said.
“I meant it more this time. The first time was to stop you crying. This time it’s just true.”
She stayed quiet long enough that he thought he had broken something, then she spoke with her voice gone small.
“Nobody has said anything like that to me in eight years, Wes. Walt looks through me like I’m the wallpaper. You actually look at me.”
“You’re the only person on this planet who ever looked at me,” said Wes.
“So I figure we’re even.”
She pressed her face into his chest and laughed, wet at the edges, and squeezed him hard around the middle, and he held her and watched the ceiling fan turn slow circles and felt something he had never once felt in eight years of Walt screaming through the walls.
Confidence.
He felt like a man who belonged in this bed, in this suit, in this life, and the feeling was so good it made him dizzy.
Then his eyes drifted across the nightstand and landed on the Ledger lying there with its screen glowing faint in the dark, the appointment timer bleeding down its red digits, and something cold slid through all that warm.
The suit hanging on the chair, paid for by them.
The champagne sweating in its bucket, paid for by them.
Every ounce of the confidence humming in his chest, delivered by them, and somewhere at the other end of that glowing screen something patient was keeping a tab on every single minute of it.
The feeling sat wrong in his stomach for exactly one second.
“Hey,” said Colleen, propping herself up on his chest with her hair a wreck and her eyes heavy.
“The timer says we still have time. One more?”
He grinned and rolled her under him while the sheets tangled around their legs.
“Think you can handle it?”
“Show me,” she said.
The headboard started up again.