At Whit's End (Wells Ranch, #4)(117)

“Goddamn, you really know how to torture me.”

“I barely touched you.” I laugh, and it makes him laugh.

“I know what touching leads to with you,” he whines as my other hand massages his taut balls. And despite his protest, his legs instinctively separate, giving me access to drag a firm fingertip over his taint.

A throaty “Fuck” carries through the room.

His cock pulsates and twitches in my hand, and my clit throbs with the needy desire to be touched, licked, and worshipped by my man. I circle my thumb over his wet head, getting my skin sticky with his arousal, and I bring it to his lips.

He hesitates, eyes wide and prey-like. He’s probably wishing he wasn’t bound so he could shove me and run away. His lips roll together, and with a small wince of his left eyelid, he opens his mouth for me. I run my thumb over his warm tongue and follow up with a kiss to taste the hint of saltiness on his breath. He moans, entire body relaxing when my lips touch his.

“Get on your knees,” I demand.

As he slowly lowers himself without the help of his hands, I pinch the small scrap of fabric I’m wearing underneath my dress and slip it off, tucking it into the pocket of his jeans. Then I slowly hike up the hem of my maxi dress. I’ve always been a tall girl, and after years of backhanded compliments about my long legs, they’re a part of me I’ve had to work hard to learn to appreciate. But Colt immediately leans in to kiss and lick my bare knees and thighs, appreciating every inch of them.

“You, Whit Hart, are my fucking queen.” He stares up at me, knees resting on his crumpled jeans. “Can I taste you?”

“I don’t want you to taste me, Colt.”

One would think I’d stabbed him in the heart and kicked his dog, the way he looks up at me. Every hope and dream shattering in his deep blue eyes.

“I want you to fucking devour me.” The backs of my knuckles drag across his cheek. “I want to ride your tongue until my cum is dripping from your chin.”

“Holy…f-fucking…shit,” he stammers, shuffling on his knees across the ground. His cheeks are flushed, and the sudden change in his expression is so fucking cute. “That’s…come over here. I’m starving, honey.”

My core trembles, and I comb my fingers through his thick hair, pulling him to the hot space between my thighs. When his tongue drags languidly up my slit, we both moan.

For a minute, I let him slowly explore with kisses and soft licks, reveling in his tenderness. But he circles around my clit, making my knees buckle, and I can’t help but tighten the grip I have on the back of his skull. I bury his face until he smells and tastes and hears and sees nothing but me.

He treats my pussy like it’s his last meal. Colt licks and sucks until I’m writhing, fingernails dug into his scalp. The muscles in my butt and thighs strain to keep me upright as the hum of an orgasm threatens to overtake me.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” I grind against his face, shaking and gasping as pleasure consumes me. “I love you.”

Holy shit. I did not just say that.

I did not just confess my love while he’s eating me out.

Praying he didn’t hear—after all, he’s probably in a state of sensory overload down there—I grit my teeth and try to focus my attention back on the tingling in my thighs and the warmth of his breath on my skin.

Through thick lashes, he shoots me a look as his eager tongue strokes become firmer, frenzied against my pussy.

He heard.

But there’s no time to overthink with his hums of pleasure and hot breath vibrating across my hypersensitive clit. Entire body quivering, my stomach flexes as a rising tide of pleasure threatens to sweep me off my feet, and I lean into it. Holding tight to his hair, I force his insistent pressure to hit the same spot over and over.

“I’m—holy fuck—I’m going to come.” I pitch forward so my head’s resting on a saddle. The smooth leather’s surprisingly cool against my flushed cheek. “Colt. Please.”

It’s too intense. I cry out and my hips buck against his mouth. My front teeth dig into the worn leather. And without Colt’s steady hands on my ass to hold me in place, it takes everything in me not to squirm away from the sheer intensity of it all. The forceful climax tears through me, and when my frenetic humping of his face slows down, so does his tongue. Ice cream licks lap up every drop of my cum until I’m releasing my hold on his hair and taking an unsteady step back. My dress flutters down around my calves once again.

“Honey, I’m gonna need you to untie me,” he says calmly, slowly rising to his feet.

His cock juts out proudly, swollen and needy and absolutely fucking delicious looking. He stares intently into my eyes, resolute as he repeats it. “Untie me, Whit.”

I wet my lips, gaze still flitting between his face and his groin. “Why should I?”

“Because…” Kicking his jeans to the side, he steps in so his cock, slick with arousal, presses against my stomach. “Because unless I can touch you, I can’t show you how much I love you. And I really fucking love you.”





Colt


With a careful tug, Whit loosens the rope around my wrists. My skin’s tender and red—not from her tying me up too tight, but from the way I was squirming and pulling against it as I licked her beautiful cunt, sweet and musky and hot on my tongue. All I wanted was to break free of the binding and grab her. Especially after she quietly murmured that she loved me as she did her best to fight the urge to give in, to let it all go and come in my mouth.