"What did my brother do to you?" he asks.
"What do you think?"
Colt's fingers slide between my legs, finding me slick. He brings his hand to his face. "You smell of sex," he says. "Want to have some more?"
Grinding my hips, I show him just how much.
"Hop on," he says. "I'll show you how to ride a cowboy!"
"I haven't done it this way yet." Shifting forward, Colt holds his cock at the root. I have to rise up high to get over it, and when it notches at my entrance, it feels like it will be impossible to do what he's asking.
"Just go slow," he says, licking his lips and grinning up at me with mischief in his eyes. His hands slide up my thighs and exert enough pressure for him to enter me an inch. Oh God, it feels too much. The stretch is overwhelming, and when I look down between us, it seems like there's an impossible amount of cock still to go. "See?" He puts his hands behind his head and shifts his hips, pushing up into me a little more.
I brace my hands on the sheets on either side of him, clenching them into my palms for stability. Rolling my hips, I accommodate him a little more, closing my eyes and furrowing my brow. "That's it," he urges. "Open that pretty pussy for me."
"Stop," I snort, smacking him on one perfectly rounded pec. His abs ripple like sand disturbed by the wind, and I have to touch him, need to be closer to him.
"Sit up," I say, earning another grin.
"You're very bossy for a virgin," he laughs. "Well, an almost virgin."
"You're number three," I hiss, still rolling my hips as he pulls me against his chest.
"Third time lucky then." Colt sucks my earlobe into his mouth and bites down on it gently. His palms urge my body closer and closer with each movement until the unbelievable is achieved; he's buried deep inside me.
"You're very cocky," I laugh as his hands palm my breasts. They're not small, but they disappear under his rough, hard-working hands.
"You're very…" He shakes his head. "…impaled on my cock. How does it feel?"
"It feels like you need to move," I huff.
"Oh, no, bossy girl. It's not me who's going to move. It's you."
The challenge is set, and I can't resist a challenge.
The first few rolls of my hips are awkward, and it's hard to move because I'm so full, but then I find a rhythm, gripping onto Colt's shoulders while he kisses my neck and sucks and nibbles on my nipples.
It feels good. So good that even though I'm tired and Colt is still bleary-eyed from sleep, we're clutching at each other for dear life.
"Fuck," he mutters, slapping my ass cheek the way he'd dig his heels into a horse to encourage it on.
"I'm… I'm…" I pant. "Don't stop." As I lose the rhythm, Colt takes over, pistoning into me from beneath, clutching me to his chest while his immensely powerful body takes over from my own.
"That's it." His teeth are gritted, his hand in my hair gripping so tightly that my eyes water.
"Oh…" I gasp as a ripple of pleasure is yanked from me, and Colt groans as his cock swells to even more ridiculous proportions, rooting deep and releasing right where his brother went before him.
Our breathing mingles as he kisses my open mouth, tongue licking so explicitly that I shiver.
"That was…"
"It was…" I agree.
And then he's laughing and laughing, the joy that always seems to be inside him bubbling out and spilling into my heart.
We collapse back onto the sheets, trying to stifle our laughter, so we don't wake the rest of the house. Colt mashes my face against his pec, ruffling my hair like I'm a dog, not his lover. I lightly punch him in the stomach, and he curls up with fake pain, grabbing my ass and squeezing it hard.
He's like a playful puppy. A puppy I want to snuggle up with, smiling as we both fall asleep.
But that's not going to happen tonight, at least not for me.
"Are you happy?" he asks me after a while.
He dips his head to look into my eyes as though he has a technique for reading if I'm lying.
"Yes," I say. "How could I not be?"
"It's a lot to take on board. A lot of change."
"But it's all good," I say, kissing him softly. "Now, sleep so I can go to your brother."
"Which one?" Colt asks drowsily.
"You choose."
"He closes his eyes and strokes my hair, pulling me forward so that he can press a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Sawyer," he says, falling asleep as though someone flicked his off switch.
Sawyer it is," I whisper, pulling up the comforter and tucking it around this man who personifies happiness. "Sweet dreams," I say as I slide on the shirt and leave the room as stealthily as I entered.