Page 35 of The Triple Play

A choked little sound pulled from my throat, my gaze locked on the way he was touching me, the way his thumb brushed back and forth, the way his eyes flicked up to mine as his mouth opened just enough for me toseehis tongue lashing against my nipple.

More. I needed more.

And he could fucking tell.

Before I could even wrap my mind around what he was doing, he pushed my thigh up toward my chest, coaxing my back to lower onto the mattress. His other hand dragged down along the planes of my stomach, over my hip, down the top of my other thigh and back up on the inside like he was mapping my body, learning every part where his touch made me tremble. He pressed a single kiss to the spot where my stomach met my pubic mound, and my muscles tightened in anticipation, my breathing stuttering.

He moved down over my recently waxed skin, his mouth close enough to feel his breath across my damp heat, justhovering.

“You don’t have to?—”

“Shut up and let me make you feel good, Annie.”

He latched onto me like lightning, quick and explosive, his tongue finding my clit in goddamn record time. My back arched instinctively, a moan ripping from my lungs, and I dug the back of my head into the sheets, one hand pushing into his hair to keep him locked in place and the other shielding my flushing face as if he couldn’t already see it.

“My god, you taste like sin,” he groaned, his voice muffled, his fingers digging in under my thigh as he pushed my other one back, too, opening me up entirely for him.

Each stroke of his tongue was firm and purposeful, drawing out sounds from me that I wasn’t used to making. I dared to look down at him, and I damn near tore his hair out from surprise as I found him staring directly up at me, the smallest curl in his lip visible, that fucking dimple poking into his cheek like he had every right to have his head between my thighs.

I could already feel myself building from just this. He devoured me like a man starved of food, like someone who had spent years training forthisinstead of hockey. His fingers dug in harder on the backs of my thighs, not quite bruising but enough that I could feel their insistence, and I nearly cracked the moment his teeth grazed my clit like awarning.

His hand dragged down my thigh, his nails raking across my skin leaving little reddened trails as his mouth shifted, his teeth sinking down on the soft flesh of my upper thigh, his thumb taking over the job his tongue had left behind as he sucked at my skin.Is he leaving a fucking hickey?

His mouth released my skin with apop, a pretty little bruise already forming, and oh my god, why was that hot?

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured against my skin, his fingers teasing my entrance in a way that left me practically gasping, his eyes flashing with something dark and mischievous. “How big was Elliot?”

How the hell did he expect me to answer him coherently when he was touching me like that?

I swallowed, my breath coming in short, quick gasps, my head tipping back the second I felt the unmistakable stretch of two of his fingers slipping just an inch inside of me. “I… He…”

“Aww, are words a little difficult for you right now?” He pressed a kiss just above where his thumb circled my clit, his breath fanning across my heated skin. “Do you need me to ask you again?”

“Average,” I answered through clenched teeth, my release beginning to coil in my gut. “Maybe just below average, fuck, Colton?—”

His laugh filled the space, cutting me off, and I hit new heights as his thumb abandoned me and his mouth took over, his fingers finally slipping all the way in, curling forward like he knew exactly where to touch me, exactly what I goddamn wanted.

My fingers gripped his hair like a lifeline as my body tensed, my muscles coiled tight, my release teetering, and the second he sucked my clit between his teeth and lashed it with his tongue, I broke.

A sharp cry tore from me as my release hit me like a tsunami, crashing over me and dragging me out to sea, drowning me in wave after wave of pleasure and bliss.

“Fuck, that’s it, Annie,” he mumbled, the vibration of his lips only making things so much better.

He tore his mouth from me and stood, his fingers still buried inside, coaxing me through wave after wave. Hetoweredover me, leaning forward over the bed, one hand coming out to brace himself beside my head, his lips and chin damp.

“Touch me.” It wasn’t a request. “See what you’ve done to me.”

My shaking hands went straight for the little strings of his sweatpants, but I could see the tent beneath the grey fabric, could see the little wet patch from his precum, and my heart pounded in my chest. I fumbled with the strings, my head so clouded from my release that I couldn’t quite undo the little knot, and I pushed instead, forcing them down, watching as every goddamn inch of him was revealed.

His cock sprung free at the same time another finger slid into me, driving me further into madness. I could barely take in the sight of him — long, rigid,dripping, veiny and thick, the tip swollen and red, shaved to short little black hairs at the base. I pushed his sweatpants down further with my toes instead, watching the way the absurd muscles in his thighs tightened as I wrapped my hand around him.

Or at least, tried to.

My middle finger couldn't even touch my thumb.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re going to tear me in half,” I whined, and his laughter boomed out again, his legs shifting as he stepped out of his sweatpants. His knee settled on the bed beside me, my thigh hooked around it, his fingers spreading just a little inside of me to stretch me out.

“Maybe a little bit.”

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