by Ivy Fox
His hair is disheveled, and there are rings under his eyes, so unlike the well-put-together persona he likes to flaunt.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I lean against the door frame and cross my arms over my chest.
“For what?”
“Take your pick. Being an asshole, mostly.”
I maul my lower lip.
“Have you ever apologized for anything in your life?”
“It’s becoming a repetitive reoccurrence lately. I don’t like it.”
“No. I don’t expect you do.”
“Can I come in?” he asks anxiously.
I move back, allowing him to come inside. I close the door behind me, hoping he doesn’t hear how my bruised heart wants nothing more than to fall into his embrace.
“It’s pretty late for a house call, Colt.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies with a crestfallen smile.
“I couldn’t either,” I admit, sitting on the armrest of my couch.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“Probably for the same reason you couldn’t. I didn’t like the way we left things this afternoon.”
“Neither did I,” he mumbles, sitting on my coffee table.
“Colt—,” I begin to explain, but he raises his hand to stop me.
“Em, I need to do this first, okay? I might lose it if I don’t.”
I nod, conceding to his wishes of starting this awkward conversation first.
“I don’t know what your deal is with Montgomery. Maybe you were meeting to talk about school or something. I don’t know. Maybe I totally fucked this up by thinking it was a date.”
“It was,” I admit.
“Shit!” he counters, running his fingers nervously through his hair. “Okay. I can deal with that. I gotta say I’ve never been in this position before. Usually, when I’m with a woman, I don’t care what they do when I’m not around. I couldn’t care less if I’m honest. But I fucking care now. I know we never said we were exclusive, and maybe this thing between us is just a fling for you. I want you to know that it’s not for me. I don’t know what we are, but I know it’s important. Real. And if you don’t feel the same, then the least I can do is tell you that Montgomery Ryland is the last person who should take my place.”
“Colt—”
“Nah, Em. Just let me have my say, okay? This is fucking eating me alive, and if I don’t say it, I’ll never fucking forgive myself.”
I push myself onto the couch while he leans in and grabs my hands in his.
All of me screams to end his suffering, but I seal my lips shut so he can say his piece, wanting to respect that zealous determination in his eyes.
“I’m not here to condone your choices, Em. I get it. From the outside, Montgomery has it all. He’s older than me, more sophisticated, and with a higher IQ. I even get that some women might find the piece of shit attractive, but Em, don’t be fooled. He’s as rotten as they come.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, this time my curiosity surpassing the guilt I feel.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, hate lingering in his stare.
“My family doesn’t talk about this shit, preferring to act like we let bygones be bygones, but it’s not true. Before Montgomery ever became one of Northside’s esteemed inhabitants, he was just another pissant Southie that happened to have enough brains to get himself a scholarship at Richfield. I have no issues with people trying to better their circumstances through hard work and sheer determination. Shit, one of my closest friends has a girlfriend from the Southside, and just by the way she hustles, I have no doubt she’ll rule the world one day.” He snickers proudly.
“You’re talking about Stone Bennett, aren’t you?”
He nods.
“She’s my student. I always found her to be a very bright and extremely hard-working young woman. I have to say the only thing she disappointed me with was turning down a job offer in New York with Watkins & Ellis. At the time, my editor was dating a senior partner in the firm, and since Stone seemed to need a job to accept her scholarship at Columbia, I offered to help. I had a lot of apologizing to do afterward when Stone turned down their job offer.”
“That wasn’t her fault, Em,” Colt explains with a severe expression on his face. “Don’t be too hard on her. Sometimes shit just gets too tangled up for one person to sort out through.”
“Hmm.”
“Shit. I don’t want to talk about Walker’s girl anymore. I need to tell you who you’re getting in bed with regarding Montgomery. Fuck, I can’t even say that shit without my blood boiling.”
“Colt, you can stop. You got this all wrong.”
“Em, I fucking adore the shit out of you, but can you just keep quiet while I say what I need to.”
“Fine.” I huff out frustrated, but Colt leans down and places a chaste kiss on my knuckles, successfully improving my disposition.
“Okay, so where was I? Ah, right. Buttmunch Montgomery. As hard as it is to get into Richfield, he won a scholarship, and because of that, he started to mingle with many influential people. He knew to make it in Asheville, he needed to network and create a narrative where the Northside would embrace him as one of their own. If not, then he’d always be perceived as just another Southside loser. That meant death to Montgomery, so he came up with a foolproof plan for his end game. What better way to gain the respect he so coveted than to marry one of Asheville’s favorite daughters.”
“You mean Dorethea?”
“No, I mean my Aunt Sierra, Lincoln’s mom. When Montgomery was a sophomore at college, he did some odd jobs to pay his way, one of them being that he catered to fancy parties. The prick met my aunt at her debutante coming out ball when she was sixteen and brainwashed her into running away with him the minute she was of legal age so they could get married.”
“Brainwashed? Isn’t that extreme for two kids who fell in love and didn’t know any better?”
“He never loved Aunt Sierra. The Richfield fortune, however, was another matter. That I’m sure the fucker fell head over heels over. My aunt was just a stupid kid with stars in her eyes, while he had dollar signs in his. He would have gotten away with it, too, if my mother didn’t find out about their plans.
“At first, Mom was hesitant in telling my grandmother about the affair—too afraid of what the old shrew would do to my aunt. But when my mother found out Montgomery was fucking every short skirt at Richfield while proclaiming his never-ending love to her baby sister, she didn’t think twice and stepped in.
“My grandmother’s solution to the shitshow was to arrange a marriage on the down-low between Aunt Sierra and Crawford Hamilton. My mother was against that union, too. She knew that, between Crawford and Montgomery, even the devil would have been confounded to choose which was the worst evil. She pleaded with Easton’s dad, Richard Price, to marry my aunt instead, but at the time, Dick was all about Dick. He didn’t want a wife, let alone a barely legal one.
“Uncle Crawford wasn’t as hesitant. He knew he was getting tarnished goods and that time was of the essence, so he demanded to be well compensated for the trouble of marrying my aunt. My grandmother bent to his will and even named our previous family home in the Hamilton name. This was all done while Montgomery was none the wiser, working in another state for the summer. Of course, when he returned, he was fucking livid. So much so that he pulled the wool over my mother’s eyes and began courting her best friend in secret.”
“Dorethea,” I blurt out, entirely captivated by the web of lies and deceit his family history contains.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, saddened. “Aunt Dory fell for his charms hook, line, and sinker. The memories I have of her is that she mostly kept to herself, but she always had a cheeky smile planted on her face like she knew some secret that no one else did. Her family wasn’t abundantly wealthy, but they did okay for themselves and had good standing within the Northside community. When my grandmother died, I know my mom gave Montgomery the dean position
alongside a generous wage packet just so her best friend would be taken care of. Still, there were rumors that marrying Mom’s best friend right from under her nose wasn’t enough to appease Montgomery’s need for revenge. Some people say that even after they were both married, he kept an ongoing affair with my Aunt Sierra.” His brows crease, upset with his last revelation, while I’m still reeling with all that he’s shared with me. “So I guess what I meant by this little history lesson is that the dean is not the man for you. He’s a snake—a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You deserve better, Em. So much better.”
“Someone like you, perhaps?”
“Fuck, no,” he laments with sorrow in his timbre. “You deserve better than me. You deserve the fucking world, Em.”
“Colt,” I whisper, inching closer to him until I’m able to cup his cheeks in my hands. “Can I talk now?”
He nods, his eyes falling to the floor.
“Will you look at me at least?”
“I can’t. Not if you’re about to break my fucking heart, Em. Let me at least pretend that I took your rejection like a man and not some fucking pussy.”
“Colt, look at me. Please.”
His shoulders broaden as he intakes a breath of bravery into his lungs before fixing his eyes on mine.
“I don’t want Montgomery. I never did. He was just a means to an end. That’s all.”
“So who do you want?” he asks expectantly, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously away.
“I’m looking at him.”
“Thank bloody Christ,” he shouts before picking me up in the air. His lips lock with mine while he sits on the couch and places me on his lap. “I was going crazy, Em,” he confesses between desperate kisses. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“Just kiss me, Colt. Just kiss me,” I beg just as desperate, my fingers already at the hem on his T-shirt, pulling it forcefully over his head.
Our kiss isn’t pretty.
It’s all knocking teeth and warring tongues, but it mimics our desperation for the other perfectly. Because that’s precisely what we are. Desperate to love and be loved. And no one can love me better than Colt.
I pull at his zipper, his hands already pulling off my satin nightgown and dropping it to the floor, the urgency for our bodies to be united, suffocating the very life out of us.
“Colt!” I scream when he thrusts so deep inside of me that my whole body becomes burning light.
“I thought I lost you,” he grunts, jackhammering inside my pussy until all I am is heated flesh, limber limbs, and shallow breath. “But that will never happen, will it? Because you’re mine, now. Say it, Em. Say it!”
“I’m yours. Please, Colt. I’m yours,” I plead for mercy as he keeps hitting my G-spot with his cock.
But he never relents, his mouth sucking on my sensitive nipples one at a time, as his hard length threatens to slice me in two. His tongue trails up my neck until his lips are yet again dominating my mouth, his fingers digging into my hips to keep his ruthless tempo going.
“I can’t. I can’t,” I yell out breathless, not making any sense anymore.
“Yes, you can, Em. Cum, baby. Cum on my cock. It belongs to you. Just as I do.”
And with his words stroking my hungry heart, I do as he says and fall off the cliff to blissful rapture, knowing fully well that from here on out, wherever I go, Colt will always follow.
Chapter 24
Emma
I feel warm.
I open my eyes to find my body all wrapped against Colt’s naked one on my bed, clinging to it as if it’s a missing piece to mine whole.
“Hmm,” I hum, the vibration making his cock swell in greeting. “Was I out for long?”
“Just an hour or so. How do you feel?” he asks, running the back of his knuckles against my cheek. “I forgot you were still sore. Was I too rough on you?”
“No. It was perfect.” I purr content, running a finger up and down his chest. “Come to think of it. I might need a reminder of how perfect it was.”
“Is that so?” He licks his lips.
“Hmm.” I nod, sliding up his body until I’m seated on his lap.
“You sure you’re up to round two?”
“Let me show you how up for it I am.”
When my hand grasps the base of his cock, he hisses out, his lids shutting of their own accord for a split second. I lower myself down his body just enough to tease the crown of his cock with the tip of my tongue while my pussy begins to rub against his thigh. He leans back into my pillow, his arms behind his head, watching me, ever so observantly, intent on not missing a single second of this. I trail my tongue up and down his shaft, taking special care of the angry vein alongside it. When I feel my wet core pool with desire, my lips wrap themselves around his cock. Ever so leisurely, my mouth goes up and down on him to toy with Colt a little longer. He tilts his head to the side just enough so he can have a better view of me. I lift my eyes to his, sucking his cock deep into my mouth until it hits the back of my throat.
“Fuck,” he growls, bringing a satisfied grin to my lips. “Em, as much as I want to cum in your mouth, I rather have your pussy first. Come here and sit on my face.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, and instead of crawling up his body, I turn around until my drenched pussy is right within his reach, and his cock remains hard in my mouth.
He bites my ass cheek before taking one long stroke to taste me.
“Argh,” I yelp, unable to keep still as he laps at me.
“You started this, Em. Now I’m going to finish it.”
And does he ever.
I wrap my hand at the base of his cock to keep me steady, sucking at his steel rod shaft as best I can while being assaulted with his sweet torturous tongue. Before I know it, I’m cumming, the taste of his pre-cum only heightening the detonation of fireworks running through my entire body. The sting of a slap to my ass cheeks brings me out of my euphoria and back to our exquisite lovemaking.
“Turn around,” he orders.
Still shaking from my orgasm, I do as he says and sit around his midriff.
“Put me inside you.”
I grab his cock and slowly insert it into my wet core. But unlike yesterday, all Colt does is hold onto my hips and waits for me to move.
“This is your show, Em,” he taunts with a sly smirk.
I plant my open palms over his chest and begin to move. Slowly at first, just to enjoy him harden inside me, but when that becomes not enough to quench my hunger for him, I increase my speed, his fingers deliciously digging into my flesh in reply. My head falls back, my hair flowing every which way as my nails sink into his torso, leaving my mark on him.
“Em, put your hair up,” he grunts.
“Huh?”
“Just do it, baby. Please for me.”
I twist my hair up on my head in a lazy bun, but the messy hairdo seems to please him if his lust-filled grunts are any indication.
“Now put these on,” he commands, reaching out for my glasses on the bedside table.
“My reading glasses? Now, Colt? Really?” I gasp, staring down at our joined bodies, my pussy swallowing him whole. I’m so close to cumming, ready for my second orgasm to be triggered, and this man wants a fashion show.
“Baby, please.”
“God, you’re a kinky asshole,” I rebuke playfully, snatching my glasses away from him so I can put them on.
“Enough of that pretty mouth, and keep riding my cock.”
“Don’t think I’m letting that baby talk slide, Mr. Turner. I’ll have words with you after.”
“Fuck!” he groans. “Shit, Em. Just like that. Call me Mr. Turner like you do in class.”
I want to laugh at his kinky fuckery, but I have to admit it’s turning me on.
“Since the first day you started teaching at Richfield, I imagined you just like this—fucking me raw, bouncing on my dick, scratching my chest until it bled out for you.”
“Keep going. I’m so close, Colt. So fuc
king close,” I whimper, a coat of sweat dripping down my back.
He begins strumming my clit, his eyes never leaving my face.
“That’s it, Professor. Ride my cock. Milk me dry.”
“Oh, my God!” I wail, reaching the gates of nirvana.
The sound of Colt grinding the back of his molars is so loud it reaches my ears. He pounds into me three more times before stepping off the ledge himself. Once we have both reached our peak, I fall to his chest, his strong arms instantly wrapping themselves around me. I concentrate on his drumming heartbeat, a reminder that I’m not alone in this unexpected feeling that has slithered its way into our hearts. The rapid sound turns into a smooth beat, so tranquil it almost lullabies me to sleep.
“Em?” Colt whispers while losing the knot in my hair. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You sure are chatty tonight.” I smile, but when he doesn’t reply with a witty remark, I lift my head to look at him. “What’s wrong?” I ask, handing him my glasses to stash away.
“What did you mean when you said that Montgomery was only a means to an end?”
Like a flip of a switch, my whole body grows rigidly cold.
“Em?”
I maul my bottom lip, wondering if this is when I should come clean with him or not.
“Just say it, Em. Stop choosing which words to say and just tell me already.”
“I thought he might be in The Society.”
“Montgomery? That prick?” he yelps, straightening himself up on the bed and pulling me along with him. The look in his eye is the same one I had when I entertained the idea that the dean could be the key to unlocking The Society’s mystery. But like Colt, I was wrong in my assumptions. It only took me two dates with the man to figure that out.