Page 22 of Don’t Call Me Son

I squeak under the covers and bury my face into the pillow, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. This is all still so new. Yesterday morning was the first and only time I’ve ever had sex, and now Colt is coming for me like this… confident, hungry, and completely in control.

The bedroom door opens with a quiet click. Another warm, rumbling laugh rolls out of him. Two seconds later the covers are ripped off me. I yelp as Colt’s big hand comes down hard on my ass with a loud smack, the sting blooms across my skin instantly.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, lifting my head.

Colt rolls me over onto my back easily, like I weigh nothing. He looms over me, eyes dark and predatory, a wicked grin on his face.

“Finally,” he growls, thick with satisfaction. “I’ve got you all to myself.”

I swallow hard, staring up at him. My body is already reacting, heart racing, skin hot, cock twitching in my boxers. I smile nervously, cheeks burning, but I can’t hide how much his dominance affects me. He looks like he wants to devour me.

Colt’s weight presses me into the mattress as he leans down, mouth claiming mine in a deep, hungry kiss. I melt under him almost instantly. He tastes like coffee and heat, and when his tongue slides against mine I make a soft, embarrassing sound into his mouth.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark. “You ran from me,” he murmurs, voice rough. “That’s cute.”

Before I can respond, he shifts his hips, grinding his hard cock against mine through our clothes. I gasp, hips jerking up without thinking. He does it again, slower this time, dragging the thick length of himself right along mine until I’m panting.

“Colt…” I whisper, already aching.

He sits back on his heels and yanks my robe open completely, pushing it off my shoulders. His hands slide down my chest, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they’re tight and sensitive. Then lower; he hooks his fingers into my boxers and tugs them down my thighs, freeing my cock. It slaps against my stomach, already leaking.

Colt hums low in approval. He wraps one big hand around me and strokes once, firm, thumb swiping over the head to spread the wetness.

“Already so fucking wet for me,” he says, voice gravelly. “You’ve been thinking about this since the kitchen, haven’t you?”

I nod, biting my lip hard as he strokes me again, tighter this time.

He lets go and stands up, stripping off his own shirt, sweatpants, and underwear in one smooth motion. His cock is thick and so fucking big, curving up. My mouth goes dry just looking at it.

He climbs back over me, caging me in with his arms. Then kisses me again, slower this time, while one hand slides between my legs. Two thick fingers press against my hole, circling.

“You’re still a little sore from yesterday, aren’t you?” he murmurs against my lips.

I nod, cheeks burning.

“Good,” he says, almost purring. “Means you’ll feel every inch when I open you up again.”

He reaches over to the bedside drawer and grabs the small bottle of lube, popping the cap with his thumb. I watch, heart racing, as he coats two thick fingers generously.

He kisses me again as he pushes one slick finger inside me slowly, stretching me open with that perfect, slippery burn. I moan into his mouth, legs falling wider without meaning to.

Colt chuckles darkly against my lips. “That’s it. Let me hear you, baby.”

He curls his finger slowly, searching, until he finds that spot that makes my hips jerk. “There you are,” he murmurs, with satisfaction.

He strokes that spot again and again, patient and relentless, until my breathing turns ragged. My cock is leaking steadily onto my stomach.

Colt adds a little more pressure, fucking me with just that one finger, and suddenly I can’t hold it back anymore. A loud, broken moan rips out of me; raw and shameless. My eyes roll back and my back bows off the bed at the unexpected pleasure.

Colt freezes for half a second, then groans like I just punched him in the chest. His eyes go feral. “Christ, Archie,” he rasps, obsessed. “Again.”

He curls his finger harder, stroking that spot with purpose, and I moan again, louder this time, helpless. The sound seems to drive him crazy. He leans down and bites my neck, sucking hard as he keeps working that finger in and out, faster now.

“You have no idea what that sound does to me,” he growls against my skin. “I want every fucking noise you’ve got, baby. Don’t you dare hold back on me.”

He keeps going, adding more lube, until I’m writhing under him. Then, slowly, he works a second finger in alongside the first, stretching me wider. The burn is intense, but the pleasure is even stronger. I moan again, louder, thighs shaking.

Colt’s breathing is ragged now. He watches my face like he’s addicted, slowly pumping two thick fingers in and out, scissoring them open, preparing me.