Page 46 of Broken Cedar

I don’t move. Can’t move because Colt’s arm is draped heavily across my waist, his breath steady against the back of my neck. He shifts slightly in his sleep, pulling me closer without waking, and something inside my chest softens.

I can’t let Mom find me here. I need to get back to my room before she wakes. I shift, just slightly, and Colt stirs. I stop moving, breathing quietly. His arm suddenly tightens around me, then he rolls me onto him. My chest against his, my thighs bracketing his hips as his hands find my waist.

“What are you doing?” I whisper. My voice comes out sleep-rough and lower than I intended.

Colt doesn’t answer. Just starts wiggling down the bed, his shoulders shifting beneath me, and before my brain has fully processed what’s happening, his hands are on my hips, lifting.

His mouth finds my clit, drawing a gasp that I quickly muffle. Colt makes a sound against me that’s half groan, half appreciation.

“Colt!” My fingers find his hair. His hands clamp onto my thighs, holding me where he wants me, and I’m squirming—trying to hover, trying to give him space to breathe.

“Quit squirming and sit on my face, Hallie.” His voice is rough, muffled against me, and the words land like a live wire. His grip on my hips tightens, forcing me down. And then his tongue begins circling my clit before he sucks it into his mouth.

“Oh!” My hips jerk involuntary. “Colt, fuck, fuck.”

My hand flies to my mouth, quickly covering it. Mom’s down the hall and for all we know, she might have heard us. Colt’s tongue is relentless, and within seconds I’m sliding my engorged clit against his tongue, my fingertips raking through his hair, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps that I’m muffling against my palm with diminishing success.

My thighs are trembling on either side of his head, shaking with the effort of holding myself up and the familiar tension building in my lower belly, coiling tighter with each stroke of his tongue. I toss my head back and arch my spine as a loud whimper escapes around the edges of my hand.

“Colt, fuck.” The curse gets lost in a moan that’s too long, too loud, too everything, and then the heat and pressure become too much, my hips stutter against his mouth, the orgasm crashing through me in a wave that starts in my toes and doesn’t stop until it’s reached every cell, every nerve ending, every corner of me I didn’t know could feel this much.

“H-holy shit.” I gasp it against my palm, swallowing hard. My heart is hammering. My skin is electric. Colt’s mouth is still on me, gentler now, working me through the aftershocks. When the tremors subside, and my breathing steadies, I climb off him. My legs are wobbly and don’t entirely cooperate. Colt watches me as I move over and take his cock in my mouth.

He groans in pleasure as I lick the tip, tasting the pre-come already leaking there. I open my mouth again, laying the tip of him on my tongue. My lips close around him, and the moan that I earn is muffled, strained.

“T-that feels…Oh fuck, Hallie.” His hips jut. His hand finds my hair, not guiding, just holding me there.

“Can we…” He swallows and tries again. “From behind, please? Can you get on all fours?”

I release him with a pop, and clamber over to the end of the bed, getting on all fours like he asked, my ass in the air, my chest against the mattress, waiting.

Colt rises to his knees behind me. His cock sinks into me, stretching me enough to make me whimper against the sheets. I’m trembling, and when I move to rest on my forearms the change in angle steals all the air from my lungs. His cock hits somewhere deep, somewhere that makes my vision blur, and the sound that tears from my throat is ragged, broken.

He rocks into me. Faster. Harder. My hands grip the sheets. My back dips and arches, my ass pressing toward him, taking him deeper with each thrust, and the pleasure builds—sharp, relentless, coiling tight in my lower belly with an urgency that feels dangerous.

A strangled moan escapes. The next time he thrusts back into me I jam a fist against my mouth, biting the side of my hand, and Colt makes an appreciative sound that tells me he noticed, he approves, he wants more.

He can barely move inside me. I’m pulsing around him, my thighs spasming, my body coming apart as his hands dig into the flesh of my ass, holding me where he wants me.

“Can you come for me again, baby?” His voice is wrecked. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Colt.” It’s a plea as I rock my hips back, taking him deeper, whimpering as I squeeze around him. My fingers find my swollen clit as he slips in and out, and my next orgasm is already building—a slow, relentless pressure that’s going to break me in half when it arrives.

I raise myself on one hand, still rubbing my soaked clit, and Colt threads a hand into my hair, tugging gently. His other hand finds my breast, pinching my nipple, rolling it between his fingers, as I gasp, my head falling back.

“Come for me, baby.”

It only takes a few more strokes, and then I’m crying out, going still, my whole body shuddering, a long, loud moan filling the room as my pussy clenches around him in pulses that don’t seem to end.

With a few more jerks of his hips, Colt pulls out, groaning. “Fuck. Give me your mouth.” He jerks his soaked cock with his hand, and I turn eagerly, almost clumsily, and wrap my lips around him. He stifles a moan. I suck hard, my tongue swirling around the tip, and the taste of him fills my mouth.

“Fuck, fuck. Hallie. Oh fuck.” He explodes. His hands fist into my hair, holding me there as he comes, his hips jerking as he fucks my mouth, and I’m swallowing, squeezing every drop, my tongue working the underside of his cock until he’s shuddering, gasping, trying to catch a breath that won’t come.

He slumps forward and I release him with a pop. I fall onto the bed on my side, my chest pounding, my entire body humming. Colt falls down beside me, breathing heavily. I nestle against him, my forehead to his chest, and his arms wrap around me.

We lie there, neither of us saying anything. Then the sound of Mom’s bedroom door opening carries down the hall. We glance at one another as we hear the soft pad of footsteps.

“Do you think she…” I murmur, swallowing down my panic.