Page 34 of Traitor

Her words bring me back to reality. I grasp her arms and push her back, trying to give myself some breathing room. “Wait.”

She peers up at me, her lips beautifully red, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes trusting and sweet. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re drunk. I should get you back to your room, let you get some sleep.”

Peyton blinks once. Twice. “What?”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’ve been through a lot the past couple days.”

Her hands come to my chest and she pushes until we switch positions. “If anyone is taking advantage, it’s gonna be me taking you. I’m not fragile, Ford. You aren’t going to break me.”

Paint-smeared fingers glide down my biceps, then grip my hands and pin them to the wall. “Keep these here,” she says.

I should stop her. Every rational voice in my head is screaming to stop her, but when she undoes the apron at my waist, then goes for my belt buckle, my mouth goes dry and I forget how to speak.

She tugs my jeans down as she gets to her knees. I’m not fully hard, but it doesn’t stop her from taking me in her hand. “Fuck,” I gasp as her free hand fondles the heavy weight of my testicles and strokes my cock with the other.

Remnants of paint streak across my skin, but I couldn’t care less. Her eyes flick up to me, and I have to wonder if she’s using me like a new medium, the artist and the subject. Needing to do something with my hands, I sift them through her hair, tugging on the strands and making her gasp in the back of her throat.

When she strokes me until precum glistens at the tip, I take my cock in hand, covering hers, and say, “Suck me.”

Her eyes brighten at the order and she looks at me under her lashes as she scoots forward, suddenly obedient. Lips parted, she holds utterly still as I paint her lips with precum. Her tongue darts out to lick away the liquid, the tip of it flicking against the flushed head of my dick.

My fingers tighten in her hair. “Tease,” I admonish, and her lips curve in a smile before she wraps them around me, sucking hard.

I throw my head back against the wall. “Fuck, Peyton.” On a keening whine, she sucks me deep, her tongue lashing against me, and her lips forming a tight seal. Unable to control myself, my hips thrust forward, and her eyes widen in surprise at the invasion, before her throat relaxes and she takes me as deep as she can, her eyes locked on mine until I screw mine shut. Feeling her and seeing her is too much. It’s been so long, and I want to make it last.

Her hands work in perfect rhythm with her mouth, gliding and tugging until my legs go numb from pleasure.

On a growl, I take my dick in one hand and bring her to her feet with the other. “Strip,” I tell her as I kick off my boots and tug my pants and underwear the rest of the way off, leaving me naked, my cock jutting out in front of me, her eyes glued to it as I stroke in anticipation.

She glances around then, spotting the bed covered in another drop cloth, tugs me toward it and I follow, hesitations forgotten. Pausing to turn, she reaches back and undoes the catch to her bra and bares her breasts. Unable to restrain myself, I push her back on the bed, ignoring her yelp of surprise, and catch us both with a hand on the mattress to control our fall.

As I busy myself tasting and nibbling on her nipples, she fidgets beneath me, alternating between clutching at my head and trying to work her jeans and panties down her legs.

“Help me,” she demands when it proves to be too much. Her hands go back to my head and she pulls me close. “Don’t stop.”

I chuckle against her skin. “Well, which is it?”

“Ford, please,” she moans.

With one hand, I plump one breast to my lips and lick at my leisure, and with the other, I still her bucking hips long enough to work her jeans down and off one leg. The remains dangle from the other because she locks her thighs around me like she doesn’t ever want me to leave. My cock pressed against the wetness between her legs convinces me there’s no other place I’d rather be.

She tugs me back up to her mouth as she makes greedy little noises in the back of her throat. I want to take my time, to get my mouth on her and make her come at least once before I take her, but she doesn’t give me the chance. Her hand steals down between us, then locks around my dick, bringing it to her opening.

I break the kiss and exhale violently as her legs tighten and the head slips inside, and my vision goes white. “Fuck, wait a second.”

“I want you inside me,” she says against my ear. “All the way. Please, Ford, I want to feel you.”

My hips move involuntarily as I slip a little bit deeper with each thrust. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

She bares her throat and I lift her thighs with my hands, opening her wide and give her what we both want.

By the end we’re both streaked in a kaleidoscope of color, and I can’t help but think of the stripes of colors as a brand.

But not on her.

On me.