16
Colt woke early, longing.
He’d dreamt that he’d had Rose, that they were naked together in his bed, him on top. That he moved with perfect timing, thrusting in a way that made her moan.
That her hands clawed his back, her core fluttering in the way that told him she was about to come. The look of ecstasy on her face as she writhed beneath him, desperate…
And then he woke up.
Hard as f*****g steel, he put a pillow over his face and shouted his frustrations into it.
He’d m*********d last night… twice. Just to settle down enough to sleep, he’d needed to think of her riding him, of him f*****g her until she called out his name over and over.
And the second time just the same, but slower.
It was like she was an enchantress, working her magic on him. Except her spell was just being he
