Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(90)

He didn’t care. He felt powerful. His balls lifted. He threw back his head, waiting for that pulsing rush to start so he could finish.


“Colt. Wait. No condom.”


He finally looked at her. “I know. Because I wanted to do this.”


He pulled out, sat back on his knees and beat off. The roughness of the glove abrading his cock took him to that point between pleasure and pain. The muscles in his belly, his groin, his anus tightened. He shouted as spurts of his hot seed shot out, dotting her torso, marking her as his.


Spent, he sagged back to catch his breath. But only for a minute.


When he opened his eyes, India was still all stretched out before him. Waiting.


Colt ripped off the gloves with his teeth, scooted her down, tucking his knees in her armpits. He traced the outline of her full, beautiful lips with his thumb. “Now you’re gonna lick me clean.


Open wide.” He leaned forward on his hands and fed his semi-hard cock into her mouth.


India moaned around the root of his shaft.


“See how good you taste on me?” He pumped in and out of that wetness and suctioning heat until he was almost completely hard again. Then he pulled out. “Now suck my balls. Get them wet.”


Her eyes were closed as she licked each one separately and blew across the dampness. Then she sucked both into her mouth and gently rolled them over her tongue.


Colt almost came when she released his nuts and her tongue ventured back to tickle the strip of skin in front of his anus.


“Enough.” He sat up and kissed her thoroughly before dragging her to her feet. “Bedroom. And there won’t be any talkin’ unless I say so, got it?”


She nodded.


In his room, Colt stripped back the covers. “Get in the middle of the bed on your hands and knees.” He lit a candle on the dresser and grabbed the lube.


He moved into the space between her calves and ran his hands up the outside of her legs to her hips. He bent his head and tongued the tattoo on her right butt cheek.


India sucked in a quick breath.


Then he turned his head and tongued the tattoo on her left butt cheek.


Another hissing intake of air.


Colt flattened his tongue and dragged it up and down her spine, over the infinity symbol—two long, twisted black lines—a tattoo that started above her butt and ended at the gigantic butterfly spread between her shoulder blades. No traditional tramp stamp for his India. Her skin was a canvas; every marking on her was a work of art.


A blast of sound and heat hit her when the front door opened.


She froze.


“Come on, it ain’t that bad.” He kissed the skin below her ear.


“Okay, that was a total lie. But I promise not to desert you.”


The huge kitchen was filled with people. Big people, little people. Women. Men.


India half-expected everyone to turn and stare when she walked in, but no one noticed.


Finally Carolyn McKay looked up from an enormous steel pan on the cook stove. “Colton! Do you think you can steer your brothers and your father out of here so we can get supper done?”


“Sure, Ma. Where do you want them?”


“Dining room. The table needs all the leaves.”


Colt squeezed India’s hand and approached the group in the corner.


Macie descended on her. “India Ellison, you little devil. So, you and Colt are a couple, huh?”