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Too Long: Chapter 20

Colt

I’M NOT SURPRISED to find Addie asleep when I emerge from the bathroom. It took me ten minutes to clean up and school myself as I gripped the sink with both hands, staring into my reflection, mesmerized by the long angry marks on my arms and back.
You’re such an idiot, Colt.
I shouldn’t have let Addie get to me like that. I shouldn’t have fucking touched her. It was hard enough keeping a level head before I knew how well we fit. How good she tastes. How beautiful she is when she submits.
I knew the moment I kissed her that I’m beyond fucked, but I rationalized; I’m not going to let her go, so what’s the harm in starting early? We both want this. We’re adults. We find each other attractive. What’s the harm in enjoying ourselves? We can date like normal people when we’re back. Sex won’t ruin anything. No harm done. None at all.
Or so I thought.
Now?
Now I want more. And not just sex.
I want everything right fucking now. I want her to move in with me. I want her to marry me. I want her to have my kids.
And that is an issue.
We just fucking met. I’ll scare her off if I’m not careful.
You’re just desperate to find someone, and latching onto the first girl in your path.
Yeah, that’s plausible. I do want my forever. My girl, my kids, my own little family. But it doesn’t mean I should grab the first girl I like and cling on for dear life.
Or maybe that’s exactly what I should do. Seize the moment. Grab Addie and never let go. Wear her down like Conor did with Vivienne. Secure my future.
I run a heavy hand down my face, marshaling the obsessive thoughts and locking them in a box at the back of my mind.
Too bad it pops open when I glance at Addie, asleep on the bed, her long hair a veil around her face, skin still pink, bare nipples peaked.
She nuzzles her cheek deeper into the pillow. Seeing her like this, so peaceful, so helpless… something shifts in my chest again. It kept fucking shifting the entire session as I watched her blown pupils and the trust within, while I listened to her erotic, soft moans.
With every orgasm, I was falling faster, caring more than I should. This isn’t how sex goes for me. I’m not usually as keen to please women. Sure, I’ll get them off once or twice, rarely more, unless I’m in an exceptionally good mood and she’s been particularly well behaved, but things were different with Addie.
The need to see her fall apart was like a separate entity inside me, demanding more and more of her pleasure. Every time her body shuddered in ecstasy, the need kept growing. I couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t stop listening, and I sure as fuck couldn’t bring myself to stop touching her.
Again, that’s not normal for me. I don’t do missionary. I don’t hold them close. I hardly ever kiss them outside of foreplay. I have them on all fours or belly down, pinned to the wall or spread-eagled on a table. There’s never much skin-on-skin or eye contact but peeling my eyes away from Addie was mission impossible.
I wanted her closer even when I had her under me. Even when both my hands were wrapped tightly around her and I kissed her lips, sinking balls-deep, we were still too fucking far apart.
That’s… troubling.
All the more because now that I’m not touching her, I feel like I’m missing something vital.
I should wake her up. We’re supposed to head to dinner in ten minutes, then watch movies by the pool, but looking at her peaceful face, I can’t.
She must be exhausted. She wasn’t far off tears when we got to the sixth orgasm. I could tell she loved every second, but she’s not used to such a sensory overload. I would’ve stopped and let her rest if she’d said red.
I would’ve forfeited my own orgasm.
But she was lost in me and the moment as much as I was lost in her. The second she wrapped her sweet lips around my shaft was the second I thought I was doomed. Holding off after eight months of celibacy didn’t come easy at first, but it got easier with every orgasm that shook Addie.
Feeling her come was better than coming myself and I would’ve kept going. I’d find every ounce of restraint buried in my bones to give her as many orgasms as she’d let me.
I never got that big of a kick from girls coming undone beneath me. Now, nothing will ever come close to the feeling inflating my chest when Addie’s back arched off the bed.
Warm washcloth in hand, I quietly cross the room and gently wipe between her legs, staring at my cum trickling down her thighs.
A sick thought seized my mind when she mentioned birth control. I imagined flushing her pills down the toilet, replacing them with a placebo and knocking her up so she’d stay with me.
It was so fucking bizarre, so fucking wrong I almost leaped out of bed, scared and disgusted. You can’t force anyone to be with you, but in that moment, I didn’t give a fuck.
Addie doesn’t wake. She stirs a little as I tuck her in and dip my head, kissing her temple.
For years now, I knew I’d be in trouble if the day ever came when a head kiss brought me this much joy.
My brothers always said head kisses mean your feelings are deeper than just physical. I’ve kissed Addie’s head a few times since we got here, but those were staged, meaningless pecks. This… this is different. There’s no one here. I’m not doing this for show. I do it because I can’t not kiss her.
Grabbing fresh clothes from the walk-in closet, I lock myself in the bathroom for a quick shower. Since Addie’s in no state to join her family for dinner. I’m forced to do the doubtful honors.
It’d be suspicious if I sat this one out too.
Taming my hair and slipping into another Monaco Grand Prix-worthy outfit, I quietly jot down a one-word note for Addie in case she wakes up.
Headache.
I’m pretty sure she’ll know to fake one. After all, I can’t tell everyone she’s exhausted. We hardly did anything today other than lose the tug of war. With one last lingering look at the bed, I leave the suite, closing the door softly.
Henry grabs me as soon as I step onto the main deck. “Where’s Addie?”
“Sleeping off a headache.”
He narrows his eyes, looking me over like he expects to find proof of a lie. He would, had I not put on a long-sleeved jersey. He’d see right through my bullshit if he spotted the long red marks down my arms. Addie will have to clip her nails. She’s out of control when she orgasms.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Henry sighs. “I’m glad you decided to join us, though. Did she take any pills?”
“Yeah, she took Tylenol and went to sleep.”
“That’s good. We can bring her back some food. Now chop, chop. We’re losing daylight.”
Arm-in-arm, we descend the gangway from the yacht onto the marina, heading toward one of the many restaurants Jamaica has to offer.
We get there to find everyone already seated. When the waiter’s taking orders, I’m there, but not really. I order my food, listening while Henry tells me he’ll be visiting Addie in Newport soon, but my mind’s in suite seventeen. In bed with the girl that makes me question my sanity.
I miss her. It’s wrong, but true. I shouldn’t miss her. I shouldn’t feel this fucking possessive over her after just a few days, but there’s shit all I can do about it.
The feelings spread through me like a disease. Uncontrollable, but I have to control them. I have to tame them and let this progress naturally, or I’ll scare her away and fuck up the only chance I ever had at something real.

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