Page 34 of Fixing to be Mine (Valentine Texas #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

STORMY

M y heart hammers against my ribs, but I follow him past the pool tables, past the dartboard, down a dim hallway lined with scuffed walls and posters for events that already happened.

He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t have to. We slip into the single-occupancy restroom at the end of the hall, and the door slams shut behind us. The lock clicks into place with a finality that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, was this on your list?”

“Yes,” he says. His hands are already on me, rough and desperate, as he pushes me against the countertop.

All I can smell is his cologne, his need, his fucking hunger. My ass presses into the edge, but I don’t care.

I want this. I want him. I want to help him cross things off his sex list, including that damn church bell.

Our kisses aren’t sweet or the kind that asks for permission because it’s already been given. The lines between us have been erased, and there are no more boundaries. There is no reversing last night.

His hands find my waist, then slide lower, gripping just tight enough to make me gasp against his lips. I fist the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer, until there’s nowhere left to go but into me.

“I want you so bad,” he whispers against my mouth, even as his hand is already slipping under the hem of my skirt.

I nod, breathless. “What a coincidence …”

“Isn’t it?”

The restroom is small—too small for how fast we’re moving—but neither of us cares.

His mouth crashes into mine, all teeth and tongue, and I moan into him, my hands clawing at his shirt, yanking it up to touch the heat of his skin.

He’s already hard, his thick cock straining against his jeans, and I can’t wait to get my hands on it.

I fumble with his belt, my fingers trembling with anticipation, and he lets out a guttural growl that echoes off the wall as I finally free him.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat.

His lips are on me in an instant, sucking and biting, leaving marks that I’ll feel for days. I don’t care if anyone sees them. Let them know. Let them all know what he’s done to me.

His other hand is under my skirt, fingers sliding under the edge of my panties, and I gasp as he finds me wet and ready.

“Already soaked,” he mutters, his voice full of lust. He doesn’t waste time, pushing my panties aside and sliding two fingers inside me, curling them just right to make me cry out.

“More,” I beg, my hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more of him.

He listens, adding a third finger, stretching me open, and I can’t help but moan his name, the sound echoing off the restroom walls.

He pulls his fingers out, placing them in his mouth, sucking them before spinning me around.

I bend over the counter, my hands gripping the edge for support.

I hear the rustle of his jeans, and then he’s there, his cock pressing against my entrance, hot and hard and so fucking ready.

He doesn’t enter me immediately, and my body nearly quivers for him.

“You want this?” he growls, his voice demanding.

“Yes,” I gasp, my voice trembling with need. “I need you.”

He doesn’t make me wait, just slams into me in one brutal thrust, filling me completely.

I scream, the sound muffled by my own hand as I bite down on my fingers to keep from being too loud.

But, fuck, it’s impossible to stay quiet.

He grabs my hips, pulling me back onto him with every stroke, his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes me see stars.

He stretches me in ways I didn’t think possible.

Shock waves of pleasure flood through my body.

The bathroom is a fucking steam chamber.

The mirror’s fogged up, but I don’t need to see myself to know how I look—hair a tangled mess, lips swollen from his kisses, my tits bouncing with every brutal thrust he drives deeper into me.

I’m bent over the sink, my hands gripping the edge so hard that my knuckles are white, my ass in the air, and his cock buried to the hilt in my dripping cunt.

I’m so close already, my body trembling with the desperate need to come, and he knows what I need. He reaches around, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing it in tight, slow circles that push me over the edge.

“That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” he says into my ear, nibbling the shell. “You’re so fucking close.”

I gasp out, the orgasm ripping through me. I lose my balance, and he holds me up as I squeeze his cock so fucking tight. My body convulses around him, and he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His voice is strained.

He’s not gentle, not anymore. Not after I came the first time, screaming his name like a fucking banshee.

Now it’s raw, primal. The hard fucking that leaves bruises and marks.

It’s the kind that makes me feel alive and reckless in the most depraved way possible.

His hands are on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as he slams into me, each thrust sending me to outer space.

Every thick inch of him stretches me open, filling me in ways that make my toes curl and my pussy clench around him like a vise.

His soft pants send shivers down my spine.

I moan, loud and shameless. I love the way he fucks me like he owns me but cherishes every minute.

My pussy’s already throbbing, another orgasm building deep inside me, and I know he can feel it, too, the way my walls are tightening around him, trying to milk every drop of cum from his cock.

“Yes,” I gasp, my voice trembling. “Yes. Harder.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His pace quickens, his hips slamming into mine with a force that makes the sink rattle and my tits bounce even more.

I can hear the wet sound of his balls slapping against my clit.

Every thrust drives me wild. My clit’s swollen, aching for attention, and he reaches back down, like he can read my mind.

His magic fingers work me again as he fucks me senseless.

“Lose control with me,” he says.

“Too late,” I pant out.

“Mmm. I’m going to fill your tight little pussy full.”

I’m close—so fucking close. I’m clenching around him, my body trembling as the pleasure rebuilds, and then it slams through me. I scream his name as I come, my cunt spasming around his cock, my juices gushing out of me as he fucks me through it, his thrusts never slowing down.

“Fuck yes. Three is the minimum tonight,” he mutters, his grip on my hips tightening. “That’s it. Take it. Take every fucking inch.”

He pulls out of me slowly, his cock still hard.

Creamy cum drips out of me, running down my thighs.

He spins me around, and with his hands on my ass, he lifts me up and sets me on the edge of the sink.

His mouth crashes into mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth as he kisses me hungrily, his hands roaming over my body.

“You’re not done,” he growls against my lips. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Younger men and their stamina.

And then he’s on his knees in front of me, his hands spreading my legs wide as he buries his face in my soaked pussy. His tongue is everywhere—licking, sucking, fucking me with it—and I’m already coming again, my hands tangled in his hair as I ride his face like a fucking animal.

His tongue is a fucking weapon, and he’s wielding it like a sword.

“Fuck,” I whisper as he swings my thigh over his shoulder. The pleasure is almost too much.

My pussy glistens, and his face is buried between my legs like he’s mining for gold. His mouth is hot, wet, and relentless, lapping at my clit like it’s dessert. His tongue flicks, swirls, and plunges into me, over and over, driving me to the edge of sanity.

“Colt,” I moan, my voice trembling as my hips buck against his face.

He’s holding me upright, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave marks.

I’ve already come twice—three fucking times—and my body is shaking, greedy for another. He’s not even slowing down. His tongue is fucking me deep, curling inside me.

“Love that you didn’t wear panties.” His voice is muffled against my pussy. He pulls back just long enough to glance up at me, his lips slick with my juices, his blue eyes hungry. “I could eat you all fucking night.”

And then he’s back at it, his tongue diving into me like he’s trying to fucking drown in me. I can feel every flick, every goddamn movement as he works me over. My clit is throbbing, swollen and sensitive, and every time his tongue brushes against it, I feel like I’m going to explode.

“Oh God, oh God,” I whimper, one hand trusts in his hair. “I’m gonna come again,” I gasp, my voice breaking as the pressure rebuilds inside me.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up. His tongue is a fucking piston, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hits me—a wave of pleasure so intense that it feels like my soul is being ripped out of my body.

I scream his name as I come, and he laughs between my legs as my hips jerk uncontrollably. He keeps fucking me with his tongue, drawing out my orgasm until I’m nearly sobbing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, my voice hoarse as the pleasure washes over me in waves.

He finally pulls back with a smug smile on his lips. “Good girl,” he purrs, his voice dripping with satisfaction, just as a knock taps on the door.

I’m breathless, and his cock is hard, dripping with cum. I bend over as I lower my skirt and lick the tip. His eyes watch me.

“We should go,” he whispers.

“And what about you?” I ask breathlessly.

“I got what I wanted.”

He kisses my temple like he didn’t just ruin me in a public restroom. But it’s not an answer I can accept. Instead, I drop to my knees in front of him, begging with my eyes.

The pounding continues.

“Sorry! It’s going to be a while. Go to the men’s!” I say.

He’s hard and hot in my hand. I lift my brows.