Tackling Love - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,2

man at all. Hell, all I know is his name, and he could quite possibly be a serial killer.

“Skye… relax, sugar. Be in the moment. Let this happen.” Colt’s hand shifts between my legs, and all thoughts of a serial killer evaporate as I moan and grind into him.

“That’s my girl.” Colt’s hands leave my body, and I cry out in frustration. “Shh… relax.”

The next thing I know, he’s lifting me from my knees and laying me flat. Colt pushes my skirt up and my underwear down. I feel his lips on my leg as he makes a slow, lazy trail up to my pussy.

I arch up. “Please, Colt. Please…” I beg.

“So beautiful. So needy. Tell me what you want?” Colt teases as he licks my slit.

“I want to fuck your face.”

He chuckles, and then I feel his hot mouth on me, his tongue inside me, and I feel like I’m about to split in two. My body is on fire as I grind and ride his gorgeous face, then he inserts a finger, and I know I’m close.

Colt twists his finger in and out as his tongue swirls on my clit. Finally, he sucks, and I shatter into a million pieces. My orgasm washes over me, and it feels like it’s never going to end.

“Oh my God,” I scream as I ride his face, abandoning all inhibitions.

After I come down, my body feels like liquid, and I’m so tired.

Colt removes my shirt. “My turn,” he murmurs.

I’m lost in him, I’ll do anything he asks.

Looking down at his cock, he’s managed to place a condom on and has his hand wrapped around his shaft. I want to please him, to make him feel like I feel right now. “What do you want me to do?”

“Sugar, I want you to grab onto your knees,” he replies with a grin.

I nod and do as I’m told.

Colt positions himself between my legs and slowly pushes inside. “Fuck, you’re tight and so fucking wet,” Colt growls.

He’s slow at first, moving in and out, and I match his movements arching into his thrusts, then I contract my inner muscles, and he lets out a moan.

“Do that again,” Colt demands.

I match him thrust for thrust.

Colt collapses on top of me, one hand goes to the mattress and the other snakes around the back of my neck. “Keep doing that while I fuck you.”

Colt stares into my eyes as he increases his speed. The friction between us intensifies, and I feel another orgasm building. He’s moving in and out of me with his forehead to mine, then Colt lowers his head and kisses me roughly.

Another orgasm washes over me, and I cry out loudly while he devours my moan in a kiss. Then his orgasm hits him, and he growls like a wild animal into my mouth. Colt keeps moving in and out, kissing me, exploring my body with his hands.

“Stop! Please, stop,” I whisper.

I feel satiated and exhausted. The need for sleep is overwhelming, and I want to revel in the feelings taking over my body, but I just can’t as I’m so tired.

Colt pulls out and leaves the room for a moment.

I faintly hear the toilet flush, but I’m asleep in a few moments.

I wake up with a fright and realize I’m not alone. Inwardly, I groan, Mr. Biceps aka Colt Anders is in my bed. He’s got an arm around my waist and has me pulled into him. My eyes search the darkness for my alarm clock and see it’s three in the morning.

Delicately, I extricate myself from Colt who murmurs something and rolls over. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, I shut the door, turn on the light, and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, makeup is smeared across my face, but goddamn, I feel good.

Opening the cupboard, I pull out a washcloth, wet it, and clean my face, then I take a brush to my wild, tangled hair. When I think I look presentable, I put on my bathrobe that’s hanging on the back of the bathroom door and go back to Colt. He’s fast asleep with the sheet pushed down to his waist.

In this light, he appears peaceful, nothing like the cocky bastard who picked me up in a bar. In all my twenty-five years, I have never done anything like this—my first one-night stand.

My face flushes at the thought, but I don’t regret it.

I had fun, he had fun, but now he has to leave.

Poking his arm,