Page 157 of Colt

I manage a chuckle. “Now where did those manners go?”

“The kind of sex I wanna have with you—it’s not polite.”

My blood jumps. There’s this playful gleam in her eyes. I just—God, I love it.

“I could get on board with that.”

“Good. Do it. Now.”

I don’t hesitate. Don’t ask her if she’s sure, because she wouldn’t be saying this shit if she weren’t.

What my girl wants, she gets.

So I grab her hips and pull her down on me. At the same time, I thrust my hips so that I’m buried to the hilt inside her.

We both groan. She is swollen, perfect, and the need to rut takes over.

I let it.

Holding her hips, I start to fuck her in earnest. She cries out, but instead of going still, she starts to ride me. Tits bouncing as she goes up, down, rolling her hips in time to my thrusts.

“Thatta girl,” I say through gritted teeth. “You been practicing. Since the mechanical bull at the bar.”

“I”—she gasps when I hold her down on my dick for a beat—“wanna learn. Keep up with you.”

“I can help teach you that, honey.”

“So cocky.”

“For good reason.”

“Oh?” She arches a brow. “I don’t believe you.”

She’s baiting me. “Them’s fightin’ words.”

“Maybe I feel like fighting.”

I am holding on by a thread. About to come. About to ask this woman to marry me, because good Lord is this fun and hot. It’s the kind of sex, of conversation, that makes me feel wide-open inside. Like anything is possible.

Like the road ahead isn’t one I gotta walk on my knees, half dead, just waiting for it to be over.

It’s a road filled with possibility. And enjoyment. And excitement, because I don’t know what happens next.

A month ago, that woulda scared me.

Now, I’m chasing down that feeling like it’s my last day on earth.

I flip her onto her back. I slip out of her but put myself back inside on an easy thrust while I lean forward to capture her laugh in a kiss.

I hike her leg onto my hip so I’m able to deepen my angle. I thrust, pull back. Thrust. Tense my abdominals to keep my movements even, deep, controlled.

I start to sweat.

Her tongue glides over mine.

Kissing her one last time, I pull out of her. She cries out, but then I’m rolling her onto her belly. I’m pulling up her hips. Kneeling behind her. Sinking into her heat with a groan.

Lainey cries out when I impale her with a hard thrust, our bodies making a rude slapping noise. She pushes up onto her hands and glances at me over her shoulder.