Chasing The Wild (Crimson Ridge Book 1)

I devour every little whimper Layla makes against my mouth.

Madness roams freely through my veins as I dive into the gorgeous girl in my arms with every selfish desire to take and take and fucking take, running wild. There’s no holding back as my tongue presses past the seam of her lips, invading and demanding. But she softens and opens for me like the good fucking girl she is and tangles her tongue with my own.

The soft, sweet noises she’s making are a nectar I could feast on for eternity.

My grip is punishing and must be stinging her scalp, but right now, I’m not necessarily in control. I’m stealing her breath and devouring her lips, and the way she moans and presses up against me is going to echo in my brain for a lifetime.

She winds her arms tight around the back of my neck. Digging her nails into my nape… and she kisses me back without any restraint.

Fuck. Yes.

I pinch her lower lip between my teeth and tug on it, dragging a moan out of her that has my cock jerking. I’ve been hard for this girl all week long, so it’s no surprise that I’m leaking inside my pants just from a single taste of her.

When I draw back a fraction, Layla stares at me with a glazed look in her eyes. She’s flushed and panting, and her lips are that deep, dusky, rose color that drives me insane.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“No.” She bites down on that bottom lip of hers so hard it might bruise. Her eyes are hooded, and there’s a dark tinge of conifer green coloring her gaze as lust takes over.

“How badly do you not want me to touch you, baby?”

Layla lifts her hips, arching against me. “So bad.”

“You don’t want me to taste you?”

Her tiny moan is filled with need. “No.” It’s a barely-there prayer that means the complete opposite of what is coming out of her mouth.

I back her up until her shoulders slam against the wooden stall. It’s not exactly warm in here, but my skin is on fire and there are far too many layers of clothes standing in the way of what I want.

My hands glide up beneath her jacket, seeking out the waistband of her jeans, as I drop my lips to kiss along her jaw. “I wouldn’t want to go against your wishes. If you’re telling me you don’t want me to put my tongue inside you, or to lick your cunt until you’re screaming, then I’d better not.”

“You wouldn’t.” She exhales a shaky breath before sliding her nails higher up the back of my neck, tipping my hat onto the floor. Layla hums and digs her fingers tighter into my hair to hold me against the column of her neck.

God, I’m obsessed with having her fingers roam over me. I’ll never wear that goddamn hat again if it means having her tugging on my hair and guiding me to rasp my mouth and beard all over her slender throat.

As my fingers find the button above her fly, her hips chase my every move. She tilts to give me better access, and I suck down on the sensitive spot below her ear. With each hot glide of my mouth over her pulse, I feel her blood quickening beneath that impossibly soft skin. It matches the furious thudding of my own heart, a thief determined to break its way out of my ribcage.

“Baby, I want to taste you.” Kiss. “Fuck you.” Lick. “Consume you.” Bite.

“Colt. Oh, god.” She shudders with each word. Then the sweetest and horniest noise escapes from her as I start working her pants down over her hips.

“This is just to take the edge off.” I brush my lips over hers and suck her bottom lip until she’s writhing with desire. It’s too fucking cold out here to get her undressed properly. “I’m not leaving this spot until I’ve tasted your sweet little cunt.”

Resting my forehead against hers, I brace one arm on the wall above her head and finally—fucking finally—dare take a glance down at the sight of her exposed to me for the first time. My breath shudders as we both look down, following the path of my other hand. She’s so unbelievably soft, and pink, and glistening wet. Jesus. My thumb glides over her pussy lips, caressing and dipping into the slickness between her thighs. It’s like every fucking fantasy I’ve had about this girl has come to life.

The sensation of having her, feeling her bare like this, is almost too much. My eyes drop closed for a moment as a dark groan escapes me.

She presses her plush lips against the stubble on my throat, her tongue darts out and laps at my skin with a whimper. “Yes. Holy shit. Colt.”

I feel drunk on the way she keeps saying my name.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet.” My dick aches as my thumb slides further in and swipes over her swollen clit. When I brush against the pouting little bud, stroking her pussy, Layla jerks a little. “Why are you so wet?” It comes out like a gritty curse.

This is surely my own personal hell. Because it was bad enough when I knew she wanted to kiss me back. It was pure torture seeing her look at me and fall apart while grinding in my lap. But now this? Now I know exactly how swollen and dripping her sweet little cunt is beneath me? Well, that singular glimpse is going to goddamn destroy me.

Her teeth graze my skin, panting breaths fan across my neck, a wildness clings to her energy. She’s so tightly wound, I need her coming apart on my tongue right fucking now. That way I can get us inside and take my time, but this moment right here isn’t about anything but chasing a release we’ve both been building toward for weeks.

Months, if I’m being honest with myself.

Fuck it all, because honesty feels a lot like doing the right thing, and if I scratch at that thought too long, I’m going to remember exactly why this is a terrible idea.

So I do the thing I shouldn’t do, and lower myself down on my knees in front of her. Grabbing hold of her hips. Painfully fucking aware of how soft and perfect Layla is compared to my calloused, weather-beaten hands.

“Last chance, baby.” I gaze up at her, hovering my mouth so close to her pussy, it’s taking all my willpower not to feast on her without hearing the words that are going to spell my final damnation in this.

The scent of her arousal washes over me, and she’s so damn sweet. It’s a heady thing knowing that she’s wet and needy and aching for this just as badly as I am. The fact that we’re both in this torture together feels like a secret kind of fantasy. One we can both disappear into, suspending time just for this moment.

“I want you, so fucking badly. But I’ve never—I usually can’t—Not like this.”

Jesus. I’m torn right now. Do I hate that no one has ever treated this girl the way she deserves, or do I love that I get to be the one to ruin her for anyone else who might come after me?

I’m enough of an asshole that it’s definitely the latter.

“You’re going to shatter on my tongue. Then we’re going to go inside, and I’m going to take my time worshiping this pussy.” Dragging my mouth over her inner thigh allows me to greedily soak up the way she whimpers with pleasure, feeling the rasp of my beard.

“You don’t have to.”

I nip at the soft swell of flesh with my teeth, drawing a gasp out of her, before soothing the spot with my tongue.

“This is exactly where I want to be. I’ve been dreaming about having my mouth on your pussy for months.” I growl against the inside of her thigh. That’s not a lie either. Since that first day, I’ve had dreams about her, and as much as I tried to fight them, wiping Layla from my mind was impossible. Confirming just how much of a terrible person I am, because once I knew who she was, it only got filthier, more depraved, more focused on filling and marking and spending my release inside her.

Her whimper fills the air.

“Fuck, Layla. Tell me to stop.” I blow gently over her pussy. “Baby, please just tell me to stop.”

She shakes her head. Mouth flushed, lips swollen, her cheeks pink from both the cold and being flooded with arousal.

“I can’t. I want more.” She begs, and my dick kicks at the desperate sound. “Please.”

My teeth and beard graze her inner thigh again. “What do you want more of?”

“Everything. You. Your mouth. Oh, god.” Layla pushes her fingers into my hair, and it’s that touch of her fingertips that drags us both over the line we shouldn’t be crossing.

I part her pussy lips with my thumbs and close my mouth over her clit. There’s not much room to move with her pants only just pulled down over her luscious thighs, but I intend to explore every inch of this girl tonight. This is just the start of all the things I’m going to do to her.

All the ways I’m going to pleasure her.

Layla bucks against my mouth as I suck down. She’s moaning and begging and tugging on my hair like a goddamn angel above me. The filthiest kind. One that doesn’t mind getting her halo dirty down here in the darkness with me.

She tastes so fucking sweet, with her arousal coating my mouth and soaking my face. I lap at her and run my tongue through her seam, keeping her spread open so I can fasten down on the part of her that draws out the horniest little noises. My cock is begging to burst out of my own jeans, leaving me damn near humping the air as I drag my tongue up and swirl around her bud.

“Fuck. Oh. God.” She starts shuddering above me, and I keep my eyes on her as I do it again. And again.

“Eyes on me, angel.” I hum against her clit, then nip at her pussy lips when she doesn’t immediately meet my gaze. Demanding her attention because I’m fucking addicted to watching this girl come already.

When her hooded, lust-filled eyes open, she can’t help but let her eyelids flutter under the weight of her orgasm bearing down. Sucking on her clit, working her with my tongue, my fingers dig tighter, branding themselves into her hips. Helping to hold her upright as the force of her climax comes racing up to claim her.

“Colt. Oh, fuck. Oh, yes.”

I go in for the kill.

“I’m—I’m coming. I’m coming.” She chants, and her eyes hold mine in the most erotic fucking sight I’ve ever seen as her mouth hangs open and her body convulses above me. Layla’s fingers remain clenched in my hair with the effort to hold herself up, and I know right then I’m more fucked than I thought.

Because I’m going to want this every day.

I’m going to want her out here, surrounded by the scent of cedar and leather, and I’m not going to be able to resist watching her come for me pushed up against this wooden wall looking like a goddess.

Giving her one final long lick, I ease backward and tug her pants up. Settling them loosely over her hips, before placing an open-mouthed kiss on the damp fabric covering her heat and perfect wetness. Jesus, the way this girl just fell apart on my tongue has got my dick so hard I have to adjust myself as I push up to my feet. My balls are throbbing—aching with the need to come.

But we can’t do any more than this out here, we’ll both freeze, no matter how good it feels to be lost to the dizziness of this stolen moment.

Layla’s still floating somewhere on the waves of her orgasm, and it’s the most beautiful damn thing I’ve ever seen. I brush some loose curls behind an ear before tilting her chin up with one knuckle, and she damn near purrs. I’m fucking ravenous for her, and it’s taking everything in my self-control not to start ripping her clothes off right here and to shove her down in the hay.

Bracing one forearm high above her head, I lean down, seeking her out. Pressing a heated kiss against her lips until tiny fingers grip the front of my jacket. That’s my cue to grab the backs of her thighs, lifting so she can circle her legs around me.

She flings her arms around my neck and dives against my mouth, harder and more demanding this time. Moaning as she melts and swirls her tongue, sampling her own sweetness there.

“You’ve wrecked me.” I nibble at the sides of her lips and over her jaw. “Now I know what your cum on my tongue tastes like, I’m never going to get enough of this.” My fingers knead her ass as I hold her tight and start walking us in the direction of the house.

“Then we’re a match.” She trails hot, wet kisses up the side of my neck in return, and Christ, it feels too addicting. “Because I want to be ruined by you, Colton Wilder.”

I groan as she sucks on my pulse point. Hearing her say shit like that is simultaneously the best thing, and the worst fucking thing, considering our circumstances.

“I’m not good for you.” I rasp against her ear. My blood hums, writhing and darting around like a wild creature ready to be set loose from its cage.

Layla feathers more kisses along my jaw, making my dick throb in anticipation of where we’re heading. This forbidden moment is rushing up with the force of a hurricane to consume the two of us.

The perfect girl in my arms pauses to speak against my mouth, firmly tugging on my hair so hard I let out a growl.

“Good is not what I need.” She sucks on my bottom lip as we make it to the front door, snow flurries dancing all around, wind howling in both our ears. “What I need is you.”