Page 29 of Broken Cedar

“What are you doing?” I ask, breathless.

He climbs up beside me, watcher splashing everywhere, and kneels between my spread legs. Then his mouth is on my skin. Kissing down my stomach. My hips. The inside of my thighs. He spreads my legs wider, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh, and then his tongue is on me and I arch off the wood with a cry that echoes off the water.

Nobody has ever done this to me the way Colt does. Nobody has ever paid this much attention to my needs before. His tongue circles my clit like he’s mapped every nerve ending and is methodically lighting each one on fire. Then his mouth closes over me, sucking, and my hand flies to his hair, holding on, my hips rocking against his face.

“God,” I gasp. “Colt, right there, don’t stop—”

He doesn’t stop. His tongue flicks faster. I come with his mouth on me, my thighs shaking, my back arched.

Before I’ve even caught my breath, he’s moving up my body. His cock pushes in. Slow. My body is still pulsing from the first two orgasms, tight and wet and desperate for him. He bottoms out with a groan that I feel in my chest.

“Fuck,” he moans, stilling inside me. “I’m not gonna last.” He presses his forehead against my chest.

“It’s okay,” I say breathlessly, lifting my hips to take him deeper.

“You need to…” He stops, his hand gripping my waist, stilling me. “Fuck. Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything,” he groans. “Anything that will distract me from coming.”

I rack my brain for a moment, trying to think. “I used to,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Oh God, I used to touch myself thinking of you.”

God, why did I just say that?

He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” My voice has gone high, breathless.

He must register the look on my face, because he presses a soft kiss against the corner of my mouth. “Tell me about it,” he murmurs against my lips.

“All the time. For years.” I say softly as he finally—finally—begins moving again. His hand skates down my stomach to where we’re joined. His fingers find my clit and pinches gently. I cry out, my hips bucking.

“What do you masturbate with?” he asks. His voice is rough. His hips moving in slow, deep strokes that have me clutching at his shoulders. “What toys do you have?”

“I—” A moan cuts me off. He hits a spot that whites out my brain for a second. “I have a vibrator.”

“Mmm. What else?” He leans down and kisses that spot behind my ear that makes me shiver. “What else do you do when you need this pussy looked after?”

“I have a little thing for my clit. A-a sucker.” The words come out ragged. His cock is hitting places that make coherent thought nearly impossible. “Oh fuck, Colt, that’s—”

He bottoms out again. Then pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, and whatever I was going to say dissolves into a moan that doesn’t sound like language at all.

After that, we stop talking. There’s just the sound of the water below us, the creak of the jetty, Colt’s ragged breathing in my ear, my own gasps and whimpers filling the space between us. I come for a third time, my body clamping around him in pulses that feel endless—and Colt follows with a groan that might be my name, his hips stuttering, his forehead pressed to my shoulder as he empties himself inside me.

We lie there, both of us breathing heavily. Eventually, we slip back into the water to wash off. Then we wade to shore like nothing happened.

“We should head back,” he says, reaching for his pants. “Your mom’ll be wondering where you are.”

“Yeah.” I pull my t-shirt over my head. “Probably.”

We dress in silence, then walk back along the path as if this is normal. As if we do this every day. And a secret part of me thinks: Maybe we could.

* * *

Mom comes home just as the sun is setting. I hear her truck before I see it—the familiar rattle of the old Ford that should have been retired a decade ago—and then she’s through the door, arms full of grocery bags, smiling like she’s had the best day of her life.

“There you two are,” she says, setting bags on the counter. “Hope you didn’t get up to any mischief while I was gone.”