“I should go home,” I say as I open the door. My feet hit the pavement. “I have plans.”
I lock the car, and Colton follows me to the front entrance of his house.
“I know you do. I’m so lucky to spend a little time with you.”
I trail him to the kitchen where he puts the food away and then moves up the stairs, my eyes landing on his ass as I follow him.
I should ask him if I can eat it. Maybe if I say please.
His bedroom door closes behind us, and we stand in the middle of his room, staring at each other.
“What were you thinking about when we walked up the stairs? I heard you groan.”
“I didn’t groan,” I murmur. “You’re imagining things.”
“So are you.”
He wets his lips and bites down on the bottom one. Hard. Fuck, why is he so sexy?
“Tell me what you were thinking and I’ll get on my knees and make you come.”
My cock thickens, my heart rate picking up.
“Tell me,” he says, moving closer, his hand running up my chest and cupping the front of my neck. “I want to feel your admission.”
I groan as his thigh presses against my cock.
“I was thinking about your ass,” I manage to say, my Adam’s apple bobbing against his palm.
“And?”
“Wanting to taste it.”
He freezes, his fingers digging into my neck. Then his lips hover over mine, brushing against my mouth so softly.
“We can arrange that.”
His tongue hits mine, and then he’s kissing me roughly, walking me back until I’m pressed against the wall, my hands grabbing on to his ass, my hips arching up into his.
“You can eat my ass anytime you want.”
A disgusting groan leaves me. I shouldn’t want this, and yet I do. I want all of it.
His fingers trail down my back and under my pants, grabbing my bare ass.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” he says, squeezing the flesh of my globes. “You were hoping I’d stick my hands down your pants, hm?”
I can’t even roll my eyes. I just thrust forward, rolling my hips into him.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his finger dragging down my crack.
I buck forward again, and he groans.
“Did you bring the plugs? Tell me you did.”
“I don’t carry them around, dickhead.”
“Fine, I have backup.” He pulls away from me, and my hands reach for him. Desperate. Disgusting. And yet I can’t help it. He’s addictive.
