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It’s wrong because the way he moves his fingers, circling around my hardened nub, using my own slick as lubricant, shouldn’t feel this good. I blame it on the fact I’ve been so touch-deprived for such a long time — lusting and craving for something I’ve only been reading in books. It always keeps me on edge, without a release. No matter how hard I try to pleasure myself — my own fingers, toys and my wild imagination, nothing works. Nothing has ever brought me so close to a release like Colton’s touch is doing to me right now.
So, this is the outcome. Of my hate for him and of my desperate need to be touched.
I cling to Colton’s shoulders, riding the wave of pleasure as he pulls them from my body.
His touch is made of an aphrodisiac, that’s my only explanation.
His hips jerks upward against mine and Colton groans into the kiss. The feral sound nudges me over the edge, where I’ve been hovering near my release for years.
My entire body trembles from the force of ecstasy that courses through me, that spills from his touch and into my bones. My hips buck against his expert fingers and our mouths fight a battle of lust and power. I rip my mouth away from his brutalizing kiss and bury my face into his neck. His rich, musky scent overpowers my senses. Ripples of pleasure tear through me and my climax hits me so hard, I feel myself sway as the world spins like crazy.
Thud.
The moment I come down from my high, from the rapture and bliss that came with my orgasm, I crumple in Colton’s arm.
My heart slams into my throat.
Adrenaline and shock bleed through me in desperate waves.
Did I just… have my first orgasm…in Colton Bennett’s arms?
My lungs cave in, within the fragile barrier of my rib cage.
For the longest time, I thought something was broken inside me, that something was wrong with my body. I thought something was wrong with me.
Every inch of my flesh tingles with strong awareness. Colton’s breath. His heartbeat. His fingers between my thighs. His other hand still cupping the back of my neck, holding me to him.
Thud.
My body is still shaking, but for a whole other reason now. The adrenaline of my orgasm is accompanied with tears. They are unstoppable and my chest hurts.
I hiccup back a sob, but the moment Colton tenderly cradles me in his arms, the dam breaks. Why…WHY?
Why him?
Why Colton Bennett? Why did he have to make me feel good? Why was it his touch that pushed me past the edge?
I’m not broken…
I’m not…
I don’t know why I’m crying and I don’t know why I can’t stop the tears from flowing. Neither of us speak, until my cries turn into sniffles. Until I’m drained, and my body is limp in his embrace.
Once my tears dry out, once the fog lifts and the haze of my pleasure disappears — I can finally think straight again. I can think beyond Colton’s touch and my stupidity.
He might have embraced me tenderly for a minute.
And, for a brief moment, I might have felt safe enough in his arms to allow myself to feel pleasure. But I will never forget the taunting grin on his face as he called my downfall his entertainment. It flashes behind my closed eyes, that cruel grin — his face that day and his heartless words that ridiculed me and my pain.
Colton Bennett will never be a safe option for my heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Colton— 17 years old
I didn’t expect the tears.
I’ve never had a girl cry in my arms before, especially not after giving her an orgasm. So, that was shocking. Shocking enough that I don’t know what else to do except hold her and let her cry all over me, her tears soaking my new, expensive shirt.
