Page 12 of The Breaking Pointe

“But you’re allowed to want me. You can have me. I’m giving you permission,”

I swoon, trailing the tips of my nails down his chest, back to his waistband.

He was rock solid now, pressing at the seams of his sweat- pants.

I grab the outline of his shaft, kissing his chest”

What if I start us off?”

I ask sweetly, gently rubbing his length up and down”

Does that help?”

He closes his eyes, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, laying a hand above my head.

“It makes me want you even more,”

he grunts”

Exactly,”

I whisper.

I grab his hand and place it underneath the t-shirt I’m wearing.

Slowly, I push it up to the bottom of one of my naked breasts, kissing his lips again.

Giving into my advances, he presses his body against me, grinding his hips into mine, moaning deeply against my lips.

Pushing his sweatpants down, I reach inside them, finally feeling how thick he actually is.

I can only imagine what it looks like.

If he’s gonna fuck me, I’m about to get rocked into another world.

Given he knows how to use what he has.

He takes a liking to my neck again, kissing it like he knew my skin in another lifetime.

He then drags his hand down to my bottoms, pulling them down to my knees.

His body raises from mine, lifting my legs on his shoulder as he pulls them off my legs completely, kissing my ankles, then my thighs, spreading them.

“Take these off, too,”

I quietly beg, pulling harder at his sweatpants.

He slips his thumbs into the waistband, staring down at me as he pulls them off, revealing light blue boxers, tightened by what he is hiding inside of them. His hands then grab my thighs again, squeezing them while he looks at my body lying under him.

“It almost feels like I’m unworthy of getting to see this much of you,”

he says, starting to fumble with the lace on my panties”

You’re so fragile.”

He reaches for my shirt, lifting it slowly”

Can I?” he asks.

I nod, sitting up to let him take it off, feeling the chill instantly. His lips hit the skin of my stomach, and soon my breasts, licking and sucking one nipple, using his hand to massage the

other. Now he was getting right to the point. About time.

I can’t help but whimper softly as his tongue flicks at the hardness of my nipple.

His free hand rests on my stomach, inching its way down to the space between my thighs.

Teasing me all the way until his fingers caress the outside of my entrance through my panties, slowly slipping a finger inside to feel my clit.

Gasping as soft as I can, I cover my mouth before he can hear how eager I really am. He pulls his mouth away from my chest, kissing my stomach before looking up at me.

“You’re like—dripping.”

He licks his lips as if feeling me has him starving.

“Don’t tease me,”

I say sternly, my voice shaking anyway.

The tips of his fingers push at my entrance, then slide back up to my clit again. He pulls them out of my panties and sucks the juices off.

“It’s too bad that I like it,” he rasps”

Listen to you. Your voice is trembling,”

he says, pulling the panties down my thighs now.

“I haven’t had this much affection in a long time,”

I say, now covering my eyes with both my hands.

“So lemme ease you into it, baby. I wanna take my time. Not rush you through it,”

he whispers, grabbing my hands away from my face”

And I wanna see all of you, while I’m doing it.”

He brings his face closer to mine, pulling his boxers down until his dick bobs out from its confines.

He tosses his boxers to the side, raising my legs over his shoulders before kissing the throbbing entrance of my pool of moisture. His large tongue doesn’t wait any longer, gliding along my moistened slit.

My legs tighten around his head almost instantly, hoping to lock him in. Slurping my folds into his mouth, his tongue catches my nub, too, sucking and making out with every part of me he can. I want to watch, but I don’t think I can.

I can’t even keep my eyes open. It’s too good. Good isn’t even close to describing how this feels.

He slides a finger inside me, moaning as he does, then pulling away. I squeeze my eyes closed, letting out an estranged, blissful moan. After one, I couldn’t help but keep moaning, unable to control them.

“That’s it, let it all out, princess. Don’t be shy,”

he says, adding another finger, then curling them into my G-spot.

I snatch his wrist, going to close my legs but his other hand stops them.

“Don’t even think about it.”

He chuckles.

His fingers begin to repeatedly curl inside me, and seconds later, I start to pant. My legs develop an onset of shakes that I’m no longer able to hold back.

“Keep going, please…”

I plead, shifting my hips into his rhythm.

I feel his face come into the crick of my neck, kissing my collar”

You want more, don’t you?” he husks.

I nod like I’m ready to explode”

Yes, yes, I need it…”

I whine into his ear.

“It doesn’t sound like you want it bad enough,”

he breathes against my skin, kissing it between his words.

His fingers start to push deeper, then slowly he pulls them out—but not all the way. He continues to kiss my bare chest, listening to me.

“I want it—please!”

I cry out.

“Tell me again,”

he says to me”

How bad do you want it, baby?”

“I want you so bad. Please,”

I beg, breathlessly”

Please fuck me.”

I moan my last words, gasping as he pulls his fingers out of me, shoving them in his mouth.

He gently grabs my jaw with one of his hands, kissing my mouth before pressing his forehead against mine as he grabs one of my hands.

“You’re so pretty when you moan like that, you know?”

he whispers to me.

I didn’t know that I could feel butterflies at the same time as being so incredibly horny for someone. He’s being so gentle with me, like I’m some porcelain doll and he’s afraid I’ll break. Every move he makes is done with caution.

My eyes open as his sentence ends. He rubs my lips with his thumb, observing my face.

“Your fingers make it hard to be quiet,”

I whisper in a softer voice than his, feeling him poke at my entrance.

“Do they?”

he pushes my hair back and out of my face. I nod.

He reaches between us, aiming himself just right. I watch his face become concentrated before looking at me again.

“I have condoms. If you want me to…you know,” he says”

Okay.” I nod.

I usually don’t get to have an option. Daniel always just got right to it.

Colton reaches above me for the side table, making a few noises with what sounds like a drawer. When his hand returns, the corner of a gold package enters his mouth, his teeth ripping it open. He takes the condom out, using one hand to roll it on.

Kissing my neck again, the moment I’ve been waiting for finally happens. He pushes himself in me, huffing into my neck as he enters, little by little. The deeper he gets, the tighter I feel. If he fits all the way, I’ll be shocked.

Wrapping a hand around his back, I start to press my nails into it.

“You’re so tight. Goddamn,”

he says louder, clenching his jaw and moaning as he makes me look at him again, rocking his hips into mine, slowly.

He rests a forearm beside my head, dropping closer to me, thrusting harder and firmer. Breaking my silence again, I wail out more moans, starting to lose sense of reality—heading into a daze. Without stopping, he gives me more kisses on my neck and chest, hips moving faster, sending me more into my trance”

You’re such a good girl, letting me take care of that pretty

little cunt,”

he says in a pleased manner.

He moves to raise both of my legs on one shoulder, pushing them against my chest as he dives deep into me, causing my legs to tremble. I would push him away if I could. It’s so much, and so good—too much, all at once.

But I want it to last forever.

“Your dick is so big—don’t stop, baby…”

I whine more, dragging my nails down his back.

“You take it so well,”

he groans, squeezing my legs, “like it’s all yours.”

He grabs my breast, squeezing it as he growls.

“You’re unreal…”

I stammer, moving my legs back down to his waist”

Kiss me,”

I moan out before smashing our lips together.

Vibration comes from both of us, moaning against each other and breathing each other’s air.

He is starting to build up a sweat, rocking us back and forth as he rails me for minutes on end.

Every time I look away, he makes me look back at him.

And every time I look at him, he looks lost in my soul. I’ll be thinking about his face for hours after this. Everything he says, down to how he says it, is going to engrave itself in my mind.

If I ever stop thinking about tonight at all, it’ll be a miracle.

At this point, I could feel him gaining a buildup but holding out just so he can keep holding me and feeling the connection we were having. His hand has been interwoven with mine like he is frightened I might leave him. Even his moan is like he longs for me.

“Colton…”

I curl my fingers in the nape of his neck, tugging his hair, trying to gain control of my breathing. He hums into my neck. “Hmm…”

His breath pumps in my ear, squeezing my hand”

I think I might…”

I can’t even finish my sentence. The most outrageous amount of electricity radiates through my body, sending my back into an arch, my arms starting to reach for anything in my grasp. Giving small pecks to my neck, he continues to whisper in my ear.

“I got you, princess. Just relax.”

He trails the small kisses to my lips, letting me lament against them repeatedly until he pulls away again.

He watches me, kissing my hand and face as I let myself feel it all.

“That’s right, beautiful,”

he hums, kissing my forehead again, “there you go.”

He doesn’t stop, even when I get louder and have another orgasm. It fuels him. Maybe listening to me whine and wail with my orgasm is torture he wants.

His lips press against my shoulder once more as he mumbles, “Fuck. I’m coming.”

He struggles to get his words out, gripping the couch with his other hand and holding onto mine tighter.

His pace finally slows down, bringing him to a pause as he lays his forehead on my shoulder.

Out of breath, weak in all parts of my body, I lie there, hoping to God I catch my breath soon.

I’m already shivering from our lack of movement.

He isn’t speeding to get off me but instead steadily runs his hand down my side, remaining inside me.

I keep my arm draped around him, running my thumb along his hand.

We can’t lie here forever, but neither of us are urging the other to say anything. Finally, he takes a deep breath, sitting up, then looking outside.

“I’m gonna get a blanket,”

he says quietly before pulling himself out of me and standing up.

He is still somewhat hard as he walks away.

I wrap my arms around myself, shivering at the breeze he leaves behind.

I can’t blame the wine anymore, but now I’m completely drowsy and ready for sleep.

I want him to hold me, but I’m afraid that now that he’s had his high, he won’t want to touch me anymore.

I guess that’s what hooking up is about, but that’s why I felt hesitant in the first place.

I knew I would regret it and feel guilty and used. It isn’t his fault. He was great. But now I feel lost.

He takes less than a few seconds to return, holding a towel and a few clothing pieces in his hand.

“Hey, lemme clean you up?”

he suggests, kneeling beside my legs as he places a gentle hand on my thigh.

“Um… okay,”

I mutter, sitting up as he starts to wipe my legs off in between and anywhere he feels I need it.

When he finishes, he puts it on the floor next to us.

“Put these on, okay? It’s cold, I know, but I got us a fleece blanket, and um—well we can lie here together,”

he says, looking at me with hopeful eyes”

If you’re into that.”

“Can I go to the bathroom first?”

I ask, running a hand through my hair.

He nods, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers and sitting down as I sit up, taking his clothing donation and walking down the hall as I put each piece on.

As I walk to the bathroom, I see he has already lit a candle to allow me to see.

My reflection shines as a darker, shadowy version of me.

I can tell that the sweatshirt is from some sort of sorority, and the boxers hang by my hip bones, almost not fitting me.

My hair is a mess and shagged out from the rain and sweat from our little rendezvous, too.

I started the day so pretty.

Now I’m hard to look at.

I shake the negativity from my head, finding my footing as I go pee before I return to Colton.

Walking up to the couch, he’s lying down, eyes closed with an arm covering his eyes.

All the candles are out now, aside from one and a flashlight pointing at the ceiling.

His eyes open once I stand in front of him, and he holds the cover up.

“C’mon.”

He opens his arms, displaying his chest as my pillow.

I look around quickly before lying between his legs, letting his arms harbor around my body, pulling me close. The blanket perfectly covers both of us as my cheek rests on his chest,

listening to his heartbeat.

“I’m sorry if I doze off. It’s been a long week for me. Not a lot of sleep,”

he says tiredly, his hand falling to my hair to rub my head.

“It’s okay,”

I mumble, closing my eyes.

It didn’t matter if he went to sleep right after he said that. I’m safe and warm. I’ve done this before, but not like this.

What am I even doing?

So conveniently, the power just had to go out.

Right as I thought I could make somewhat of a move, too, now that I have a bit of liquid courage.

Colton found one candle to light, then left to go on a manhunt for an apparent stash of them that he has hidden somewhere around the loft.

As time passes, I’m becoming increasingly curious again about what the rest of the place looks like.

Only way to find out is to see for myself. So, I stand up from the couch to start my exploration.

I can see the rain getting noticeably more aggressive on the patio flooring through one of the windows.

Passing it, I turn down a dark hallway that is hardly a hallway at all.

Five steps into it and there is a door, barely cracked open.

Holding my candle up, I hold one hand out, using a singular finger to push open the door, mentally begging for it not to creak and give away my whereabouts.

It would be just my luck that he’s either in here already or will be here to scare me momentarily.

Pushing the door all the way open, I see dust and what looks to be old clay in random places on the wooden floor.

There is paint in other places—little drops of different colors as if they were accidents.

I follow them, slowly entering the room, taking a few steps before I’m met with a giant, coiled vase.

The clay is a burnt orange color, unpainted, but dried.

It has to be made up of over seventy coils, if not more.

I could stare at the vase for hours, except the corner of my vision is more colorful and attention grabbing.

Following the colors with my gaze, I find myself smack dab in front of a canvas that stands on an easel.

I squint, trying to see the vision better, only to realize it’s a woman.

She has dark hair that’s long and kind of gray.

His attention to detail is quite creepy.

I can see every single strand coming out of her head.

I still want to believe that he’s not a real person and I’m being disgustingly punked right now.

His qualities are just too genuine.

It all seems like a set-up.

Every time I think he might take off the mask and give me a big reveal, he only gets sweeter and funnier.

He gets better at making me feel like I can be myself.

He has no idea that’s an inhumane feeling for me. I haven’t felt like myself in years since I left Chicago. Daniel pretty much stole the last of that quality from me, and I’m still trying to find it.

The more I browse this room, the more artwork I’m faced with.

Sculptures of different sized angels, or people that I can only assume he’s seen somewhere in his lifetime.

Some paintings are the same, with the same muse, only doing a different action.

It’s like being at the museum all over again, only this exhibit is Colton’s mindset.

It’s a beautiful mindset.

An extremely creative one, indeed.

Walking along the wall, I come up to a canvas on another easel, this one partially covered with a sheet.

Taking a look over my shoulder to check for any sign of company, I find nobody, then snap my head back to the picture.

Lifting the sheet, I hold the candle slightly closer, making out the scribbles that were formed into a giant black aura of a human.

He has no face, but he has limbs and a mouth.

There are dark specks all around his head, too. Almost like firework sparks. He’s screaming and holding something up to his head that resembles a hammer in a way. This one isn’t beautiful like the others. I step closer, looking at the aura-like creature’s hand.

The specks aren’t specks anymore—they’re blood. The ham- mer isn’t so hammer-like, either. It’s more like a gun”

Noelle?”

A deep, formidable voice rings behind me”

You in here?”

I drop the sheet, spinning around”

Yeah, just browsing,”

I respond.

He stands in the doorway, luring me closer with his presence until I’m standing directly in front of him.

“Find anything you like?”

he asks, leaning on the wall”

Only the thought that you could’ve brought me here, instead.

You have half an art museum right here in your home.”

He makes a whimsical facial expression, telling me he doesn’t agree with his eyes.

“That wouldn’t exactly be a proper date, if I did that, now would it?”

He bites his bottom lip briefly.

“I’m not sure if it means anything, but if I knew that this was what you were about, I would’ve accepted the date a lot sooner.” I shrug”

You didn’t have to think about making anything romantic tonight. You just…did it.”

His quirky smile goes soft while he lets his empty hand rake through his thick hair.

The floor has caught his attention again, helping him hide the fact that I’m successful in making his cheeks turn cherry red.

His smile is one of the most compelling ones I’ve been graced with, and so is his jawline. And he’s so unaware of it.

“Why don’t we go in the living room. I got a hell of a lot more light in there, now,”

he says, grasping one of my shoulders as I follow him.

I want him to believe me.

I wouldn’t think I would be someone to boast about a man’s greatness ever again, but I have to.

So far it feels like he takes every compliment as if it were one of those rain droplets outside.

He lets them all roll off his body like he’s made of steel.

It’s sweet that he’s humble, and that’s beyond the bounds of attractiveness to me.

But he doesn’t believe a damn thing I say, and it’s self-evident.

We walk over to the casement part of the window, and I sit down, pretzel style, leaning against the window.

All that’s visible is smog and smoke.

You can still see the city lights and all the buildings shining from how high we were.

It’s mesmerizing when you’re looking at it in real life, but he looks at this every single day.

I don’t ever want to leave.

It’s quiet, and calm. He has an amazing view, and for once, I’m not distracted by how homesick I always am. I don’t have Lauren or Tony being cringe in the corner of my eye, either.

It’s pushing around eight o’clock now; we must have spent most of our day at the museum it seems.

I lost track of time there, and now here.

My next concern, out of the thousand that I have already, is overstaying my welcome.

“This view is so crazy. I can’t believe you live here alone,”

I say, looking at him.

He’s opening another bottle of wine, eager to pour me a fresh glass, while also replenishing his beer. I’m already guilty of drinking most of the previous one. He’s being too nice now, and this wine is different. Something with a maple leaf.

“Oh, I’m not that alone. I got Bonnie.”

He chuckles softly, holding the bottle and beer in one arm and picking up my glass with his free hand.

“Haha,”

I say sarcastically, smiling”

You know what I mean, though…”

He bounces his shoulders, approaching me as he sits next to me.

He sets my glass between us on the windowsill”

I do. Trust me, I’m not your happiest camper,”

he says, cracking open the fresh beer.

“What’s that?”

I pry, scooting a bit closer to him as I point to the bottle.

“It’s called ‘Chateau La Mission Haut Brion’,”

he answers. So, it’s French. Time to embarrass myself even more.

“I got it in Canada a few months ago,”

he adds, averting his eyes from me.

“Canada.”

I grin, nodding”

So, it’s French?”

I ask, needing to confirm that I’m not a dummy.

He nods”

You get it.”

I think I get it?