15. Ella
15
ELLA
“ O H MY FUCKING GOD,” I scream as Colton reminds me just what falling into bed with him is like.
Fucking incredible, that’s what it is.
My skin is slick with sweat, I’m panting like a whore, and my wobbly bits are jiggling, but for the first time in a very long time, I do not care.
His touch burns in the best possible way, and he gazes at me like I’m something special, pushing all my insecurities and worries aside.
Right now, we’re just two young adults letting loose and forgetting that anything outside the two of us exists.
We’re just Ella and Colt at some college party, celebrating one of his wins in the only way we knew how.
My hands slide down his back as I moan in delight, my next release in touching distance. Grabbing his ass, I drag him closer, trying to get him as deep as physically possible.
“Bombshell, you dirty, dirty girl,” he groans as he continues thrusting hard. Every single muscle in his powerful body is locked up as he plows into me.
I fucking love it.
“Oh god. Yes. Yes. Colton,” I chant as he hits that perfect spot over and over.
My eyes lower, desperate to cut off every sense but those of my nerve endings tingling.
“Don’t. Watch me as you come. I want you to see exactly who’s making it happen.”
Oh god.
I swallow roughly and fight like hell to do as I’m told and keep my eyes on his.
“Good girl,” he praises. “More?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Good, because you’re getting it.”
With the kind of precision I expect from Colt, he fucks me straight into the most dizzying release I’ve experienced since…well…the last time we were together.
“Not done with you yet,” he grunts before pulling out, flipping me over, and thrusting straight back into me.
“Colton fucking Rogers,” I scream as he throws me headfirst into another orgasm.
Fuck me, this man is good.
With his grip so tight on my hips, I’ve no doubt that I’ll have bruises tomorrow.
“Oh fuck, Ella. No one has ever felt this fucking good,” he bellows, bottoming out inside me.
He hits me so deep it makes my eyes roll back and yet another release build.
My entire body trembles with exhaustion from the first two. Add the bit of yoga I did with Letty earlier and it’s seen more action today than it has in about three years.
Fuck, this is going to hurt tomorrow.
“Right there. Right?—”
The pressure on my hip disappears and instead, there’s a sharp sting on the back of my head as Colt pulls me upright.
“Oh shit,” I cry as the angle changes again. “Oh fuck. Shit. Yes. Oh, Jesus.”
“He’s not going to help you right now, Bombshell,” he rasps in my ear as his other hand slides down my belly in search of my clit.
“Fuck,” I gasp when he finds the sensitive nub and rubs just the way I like.
“It’s like no time has passed, isn’t it?” he groans, his breath racing over my hyper-sensitive skin, making me tremble and my nipples harden.
Yes. Yes, it is.
The words get stuck in my throat.
Everything he’s doing. The way he talks to me, whether it’s soft words of support, telling me that I’m beautiful, or filthy in a way I remember all too vividly…all of it. It’s everything.
“Yes,” I finally force out around the emotion clogging my throat as he picks up his pace once more.
His fingers rub against me as his cock moves inside me. My head spins and my body burns as pleasure begins to coil tight.
“Come for me, bombshell. Show me how much you love my cock.”
Dragging my head back farther, his lips latch onto my neck and he sucks that perfect spot beneath my ear that makes me cry out. The bite of pain added to the pleasure pushes me into another release.
“Colton,” I scream as my body quakes.
Every single muscle in my body turns to mush, but he doesn’t let me fall. Instead, his grip on me tightens, holding me up, holding me together as he continues to pound into me for a few more seconds before he stills and the most incredible groan fills the room.
Goosebumps cover my entire body and my need for another round returns as he booms “Ella,” through his penthouse apartment and his cock jerks inside me.
The second he’s spent, we go crashing onto the bed in a messy heap of sweaty limbs and heaving chests.
“Never been as good as you, Bombshell. Never.”
With both of his thick arms wrapped around me, holding me captive against him as if he thinks I’m about to run, he peppers kisses along my shoulder.
“I was beginning to think it was a myth. A lie I told myself. A figment of my imagination.”
“What?” I whisper, frowning as I try to understand his words.
“You, Ella.”
My chest tightens and my stomach tumbles.
“This.” His arms squeeze me tighter. “I thought I’d built up in my head how amazing you were to the point it was no longer a memory of us, just my imagination.”
“Stop, please,” I beg as tears fill my eyes again.
It’s bad enough that he’s already caught me crying once. He doesn’t need to do it a second time in one night. I don’t need to show him again what a mess I am. What a broken-down, ugly mess.
“It’s the truth. It’s what you deserve.”
A sob breaks free, and I hate myself for it.
“Bombshell?” he whispers, somehow magically rolling us so I end up on his chest with my legs spread across his waist.
“No, please,” I beg, refusing to look at him as I try to disentangle myself from his body. But he’s having none of it. His giant hands hold me down, pinning my wobbly bits against his rock-hard muscles. “Please,” I whimper, shame and disgust rolling through me.
I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have let him bring me back here and see?—
“Ella, baby,” he whispers as a sob erupts.
As if this whole situation wasn’t mortifying enough, I have to top it off by crying on his chest.
His fingers slide into my hair, and he tries to make me look up, but I fight it.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, sounding confused and totally out of his depth.
Our connection might have been powerful back in the day. But it was mostly only physical. We talked sure. But it was usually only limited to our lives at college. We never dived into anything deeper.
It was how he wanted it, and I accepted that just so I could get a piece of the enigma that is Colton Rogers.
I knew then that it was a mistake, and I still know now.
I gave too much of myself—my heart—to him back then, and in return, he gave me multiple orgasms.
They were great, don’t get me wrong. But they weren’t what I wanted. Not really.
I wanted him.
I’ve always wanted him.
“We can start again.”
His words earlier made so much hope flutter in my chest. But I was high on endorphins and the addictive scent of him.
He didn’t mean it.
Deep down, he hasn’t changed. He’s still the player he always was. Hell, it’s splashed over the internet most weeks.
Pressing my brow against his chest, I shake it from side to side.
“No, Colton. You haven’t,” I finally answer once I’ve found some strength to do something other than cry.
I did. I’m the one who did something wrong.
I came here. I allowed this to happen.
When he tugs my hair again, I make the mistake of looking up.
His eyes are dark and so full of emotion that I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him before.
“You’re regretting it,” he states.
I want to lie, but I can’t force the words out. Instead, I whisper, “I should go.”
I expect him to release me, to allow me to do the walk of shame—even call me an Uber to get back to Letty’s—but he does none of those things.
Instead, his lips twitch, although I’m not entirely sure if it’s in amusement or frustration.
“No,” he states simply as if that’ll fix everything.
“Colt. This isn’t…we don’t—” I gesture to his bed.
“I don’t give a fuck about what we did or didn’t used to do, Ella. This isn’t then. This is now, and I want you here. I want you in my bed. I want your body crushed up against mine, and I want to make you scream, not cry.”
Before I’ve managed to register the words, his grip on my hair tightens, his other hand slides from my waist to my ass, and I’m lifted up his body until his lips are on mine.
I want to fight, but the second his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip asking for entrance, I cave.
I always do when it comes to Colton Rogers. He’s my ultimate kryptonite.
He’s the reason I ended up in this mess in the first place.
The second I part my lips and accept his kiss, a deep groan rumbles in his throat and he dives in.
He’s always been a gives-no-shits, takes-what-he-wants kind of man. It’s something I always admired about him after spending so many years caring too hard about things that didn’t really matter.
It’s why I handed my body and my heart over so easily.
It wasn’t even a choice. It just happened.
I fell hard, and I fell fast.
It’s just a shame that I was the only one who did.
“Oh god, Colton,” I moan as he rocks me over his erection.
He always did have incredible recovery times. Seems like that hasn’t changed.
“Been years since I had you, Bombshell. Did you expect anything else?” he asks, making my heart pound harder. “Wait. No. Don’t answer that,” he quickly says, learning all too fast about my insecurities. “I couldn't get enough then, and I can’t get enough now.”
He finds my lips again, stopping me from saying anything. His grip on my ass tightens as he grinds against me, and the other slides from my hair and down over my back and waist.
His touch burns, and with each second that passes, I just about manage to put my unease aside and indulge in what he’s giving me.
If he didn’t like your body, he would not be doing this right now , the rational, healthy part of my brain says.
But you’re not the girl you used to be , the other part screams.
“Colton,” I cry, both ripped from my thoughts and the delicious friction from his cock. “What are you?—”
“Sit on my face, Ella,” he demands, holding me over his chest.
“What? No. No way, I can’t?—”
“Shut the fuck up and do as you’re told,” he growls. “I want to taste you again.”
“I’ll kill you.” His lips curl at the corners as mirth dances in his eyes. “What?” I snap. “What’s so funny?”
“Bombshell, you won’t kill me. And even if you did, it would be the ultimate way to go.”
Without my agreement, he wraps his giant hands around my thighs and drags me forward.
But I still hover just out of reach.
“Ella. Sit. On. My. Fucking. Face.”
“I can’t. I?—”
His grip on my hips tightens, his fingertips digging into my skin as he takes matters into his own hands and tugs me down.
The second I’m low enough, he sucks on my clit and sets about proving to me why this is a good idea.
“Oh fuck.”
“Get comfy, Bombshell. You might be up there a while.”
Every muscle below my waist clenches at his filthy promise.
Looking down, I find his heated eyes staring up at me, but not before I take note of my body. Of the lumps and bumps he wouldn’t have seen before.
His eyes narrow as if he can read my thoughts, but seeing as I’m actually sitting on his fucking face, he can’t say anything about them.
Sliding his hands from my thighs, he grips my waist, his thumbs caressing the softness of my stomach as he plunges his tongue inside me, making me cry out.
He works me like he has a fucking roadmap to my body. His tongue and lips drive me wild as his hands tease and caress every inch he can.
With every second that passes, he forces another little worry from my head.
I know they’ll return, just like they did earlier, but for now, I’m going to enjoy the relief.
Twice he pushes me to the edge, and twice he throws me right over, giving me little choice but to come all over his face before his impatience gets the better of him.
“Down you go,” he says, after kissing my over-sensitive clit and effortlessly lifting me down his body. “Put me inside you. I want to watch you ride me like you used to.”
Grasping his thick cock, I work him a couple of times, loving the way his abs clench at my touch and wondering at what point he put another rubber on.
I always did think he had a magical dick.
“Ella,” he warns, knowing that I’m hesitating. “Be a good girl and sit on my dick. I want to watch those tits bounce as you ride me.”
Closing my eyes, I give myself a talking-to before following orders.
I refuse to let my inner demons stop me from taking something I really, really want.
And Colton’s cock is something I really, really want.