author's note⠀⁎⠀smut (18+ mdni), the way i feel about this man is not normal, enjoy the product of that <3
read more⠀⁎⠀colston loveland masterlist.
He should’ve known better than to hope you would be able to sneak away even once. Not with people flooding in and out of the house to see him. Not with his mother’s impeccable hospitality meaning both of you were never more than an arm’s length away from freshly squeezed juice, a plate of hot food, or an activity that required you to leave the house. A week in Idaho, and he had counted exactly seven instances where you had been alone, none lasting longer than five minutes before the quiet was interrupted by a knock at the door, or a call from downstairs.
But now you were home. In your own house with your own rules, and not a single soul around to interrupt what was well overdue.
The front door barely clicked shut before you felt Colston’s hands finding your hips from behind, pulling you flush against him before you could even drop your purse onto the hallway table. “Got some business we need to handle,” he murmured into your hair, voice low enough that you felt the rumble of it against your back more than you heard it.
You laughed, tipping your head back against his chest as he walked you forward, leaving your luggage abandoned mid-step with his grip sliding up to your ribs, fingers pressing just beneath the swell of your breasts in a silent proposal.
“Damn, we can’t make it upstairs?” you breathed out at the feeling of his colder palms slipping under your tank top, callouses scraping your ribs and making you shiver despite the warmth of the late afternoon sun filtering through the windows.
Colston’s response was a rough exhale against your neck as he caught your earlobe between his teeth. “Oh, we’re makin’ it. I need space,” he murmured, hiking you up effortlessly over his shoulder, one hand anchored possessively on the curve of your thigh. You gasped, your laughter dissolving into a surprised intake of air when his palm landed sharp against your ass, the sting reverberating through the skin and leaving a staticky, warm feeling in its wake.
“Mmm… music to my ears,” he hummed, turning his head to leave a kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh as he carried you toward the stairs.
Your feet didn’t touch the floor again until you crossed the threshold of their bedroom. Colston deposited you onto the bed with a controlled roughness that sent you bouncing once against the sheets. Before you could right yourself, his body caged yours, one knee pressed between your thighs as he leaned down to capture your mouth in a kiss out of pure impatience. You arched into him, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, running up his arms, over his shoulder, and finally cradling the back of his neck.
The scent of him flooded your senses, almost overwhelming considering the week or so without the feeling of him pressed this heavily against you. Your chest rose sharply when his hand slid under the hem of your tank top, fingers splayed wide across your stomach before dragging upward. The material bunched between you, and you lifted your arms instinctively, letting him peel it away with one impatient tug. His lips left yours only to trail down your neck, his teeth grazing the hollow of your throat before his tongue soothed the sting.
You whimpered out, swallowing hard at the way his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your jeans, dragging them down your hips to discard them over the side of the bed. Colston’s breath hitched, his grip tightening as he took in the sight of you sprawled beneath him. You were bare except for the cotton clinging to your hips. Chocolate brown eyes drifted over your moisturized skin scented with your favorite body butter.
“Damn,” he muttered, pulling back for a brief moment to maneuver your body beneath him, aligning himself between your thighs as his hands slid up your legs, parting them further. You released an audible puff of air when his fingers traced the outline of your damp underwear. You rocked your hips against him, cursing under your breath at the feeling of his palm flattening against your abdomen to still you.
“Easy, mama,” he murmured, bending to drag his lips along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Got all night now.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, your breath coming uneven as he traced slow, deliberate paths up your leg, pausing just shy of where you ached for him. The tease was unbearable with his grip on your hips holding you in place as if you might dissolve beneath him. You swore you could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as Colston glanced up, catching your gaze with a intensity behind his eyes that made your stomach flip.
“Turn over for me,” he murmured. You rolled onto your stomach the second you processed the request, the sheets cool against your warming skin. Colston’s hands smoothed up the backs of your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft give of your flesh before dragging your hips upward until you were on your knees. Another whimper escaped you when his thumb pressed against your covered entrance.
Colston chuckled deeply at the way you arched back into his touch. “Ooh, she missed me,” he laughed breathlessly, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down.
You bit your lip against the sound that threatened to spill out when the fabric finally slipped past your thighs, the air hitting your overheated skin making you press your chest further into the sheets. His hands returned immediately, kneading the curve of your ass before delivering a sharp smack that had you gasping into the comforter. Colston’s laugh was dark, appreciative, his fingers trailing lower to trace the slick evidence of your need for him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, the word rough and reverent all at once.
His fingers pressed between your thighs from behind, sliding through the wetness gathered there with a groan. You shuddered, fingers twisting in the sheets as his touch grew bolder, dipping into you with a slow, torturous curl that had your hips undulating back against his hand.
“Look at you,” Colston murmured, voice thick as he withdrew his fingers only to drag them through your slickness again, circling your entrance without pushing in. “Prettiest thing I ever seen.”
Your breath hitched when he leaned down, his lips brushing the middle of your back, the rustle of fabric just slightly reaching your ears before you felt the heat of his bare thighs pressed against yours. His dick slid between your thighs, heavy and insistent, his hand dragging the pink head through the wetness his fingers had coaxed out of you. The friction made you sigh when you felt the first rock of his hips, his free hand trailing down from your waist to your hip.
Colston’s palm settled at the small of your back, pressing down until your stomach met the bed. He groaned as he slid the tip of himself against your entrance, pausing just enough to make you whine. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice rough against your ear as he pushed forward in one slow roll of his hips, just enough to let you feel the stretch around his tip before retreating again. You clenched around nothing, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you.
“Colston—” you breathed, halfway between frustration and desperation, your shoulders tensing when his breathy laughter floated into your ears.
“Don’t—oh—” Your voice broke off when he pushed forward again, sinking deeper this time, his grip tightening on your hip as he bottomed out with a ragged exhale.
You could hear him mutter something low and broken to himself under his breath as he watched, and felt, you adjust around him. His warm palms soothed over your skin, attempting to ground you through the slow roll of his hips. You clenched your teeth against the onslaught of sensation, of every inch of him dragging against walls that had waited too long for this. His hand slid up your spine, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades as he sucked in a long, deep breath through his teeth.
Colston’s fingers curled into your waist, digging into the soft skin there as he pulled back almost entirely before snapping his hips forward with a groan. You moaned, the sound punched out of you as you arched against the mattress. Slowly, he worked his way up to a pattern, building a rhythm with the wet slide of him inside of you demanding his attention. He absorbed the way your body yielded to him, how your breath stuttered when he thrust particularly deep, the muffled whimpers, moans, and pleas you buried into the sheets when he angled himself just right.
His grip shifted, lifting your hips higher, aligning your body so he could sink deeper, grind harder, make you feel every inch of him stretching you apart.
“Oh my god… shit, baby. Right there. Harder—” you panted, the syllables of your words spilling from your lips unevenly with each rough bounce of your body against the mattress.
Colston growled low in his chest, his fingers digging into your hips as he obeyed, snapping his hips forward with fervor, the slap of skin against skin filling the room alongside your ragged breaths. You could feel the throb of him inside you, the way his rhythm faltered just slightly when you clenched around him, drawing a hoarse “fuck, mama,” from his lips.
His hand slid up your spine, fingers threading through your hair before fisting at the base gently, just enough to tilt your head back, exposing the column of your throat as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your skin. “Look at you takin’ it so well,” he praised, voice heavy in your ear, his free hand keeping his weight up. “So damn perfect. Sound so pretty for me.”
You keened, the words sending a fresh wave of heat through your belly as his hips snapped forward again, deeper this time, the angle shifting just enough to make your toes curl.
Your moans pitched higher, pathetic and broken as Colston’s thrusts grew uneven, his control slipping with every drag of your body against his. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows.
“Hmm… what was that? Couldn’t hear.”
He knew he was playing with fire with that comment. He knew you could dish back as much as you could take. But it was devious, really. The way you arched your back just enough to tighten around him, milking a ragged groan from his throat as you craned your neck to glance over your shoulder with eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Colston’s rhythm faltered, hips stuttering mid-thrust as you squeezed, then dragged your nails down the length of his tattooed forearm where it braced beside you.
“You…” His words dissolved into a deep moan when you rocked back against him, swallowing him deeper with a slow roll of your hips that made his head tilt in awe. “Tryna take it from me? That what you want?”
You answered with a breathless laugh, circling your hips in search for more friction. The movement shifted the angle, dragging a whimper from your throat when the blunt head of him rubbed against that sweet, swollen spot inside you. Colston’s breath caught, fingers gripping your waist tight enough to bruise as he watched the way your body moved, how your thighs trembled when you took him deeper, as if controlled and torturously slow.
“If I have to,” you eventually replied, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you ground against him. He could feel the tension coiling in his gut, the way his control frayed at the edges with every push back from your hips.
When he finally shook off the awe, he took control of their rhythm once more, pulling you flush against him, watching your ass press firmly against his pelvis. You gasped at the sudden shift, the sharp sting of his palm landing against your backside again before he gripped the flesh tight, spreading you open further as he fucked into you with renewed urgency.
“Mmmh, fuck…” your voice fractured as Colston’s thrusts grew rougher, his grip on your hips just bordering on painful, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was memorizing the shape of you. The air between you grew heavy with the scent of sex, sweat, and what remained of the body butter still clinging to your skin.
“You feel—god, mama—” His words dissolved into a drawn out growl, his hips snapping forward erratically as he chased his release. You arched beneath him, your fingers twisting in the sheets as you met him thrust for thrust, your body tightening around him.
“Boutta cum… shit,” Colston’s warning was whispered, his fingers digging into the softness of your waist as his hips stuttered.
You arched higher, pressing your forehead into the mattress to stifle your moans when he dragged you back onto him, grinding deep as his release hit. You felt the pulse of him inside you, the hot spill of his cum making your hips tense where they pressed against his. His groan was rough against your spine, lips dragging damp, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.
His grip loosened, fingers smoothing over the indents he’d left on your skin as his hips slowed to gentle, shallow rolls. Before you could speak, he managed to find enough control over his limbs to pull you upright against his chest, his lips pressing lazily against your temple while his hands trailed down your torso, fingertips dancing over your damp skin. You sighed into him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his touch wandered lower, brushing over the sensitive flesh between your thighs where you still throbbed for him.
“I didn’t forget about you, mama. I promise, I didn’t,” Colston murmured into your neck, his voice still rough, fingers slick as he circled your clit with slow, purposeful strokes. You shuddered, your thighs pressing together instinctively, not intending to stop him, but to chase the pressure of his touch. His free arm tightened around your waist to keep you upright as your legs trembled.
“Uh uh, none of that runnin’ from me,” he chastised, holding you tighter as his fingers worked your slick flesh with the same ease he’d used to memorize your body over the years. You moaned, your nails digging into the thick muscle of his forearm as the pad of his fingers pressed firm against the swollen bud, and you arched against him, your eyes screwed shut.
Colston kissed a trail along your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly as his fingers worked you, his rhythm shifting between slow circles and quick brushes and taps just to hear your breath hitch.
“Close, baby?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
You nodded wordlessly, your thighs tightening around his hand as the coil in your stomach wound impossibly tighter. The fingers on your right hand fell over his, feeling the rhythm of his strokes as he coaxed you toward release. His left hand, traveled from where it wrapped around your waist to find the sides of your neck. He heard you whimper and arch within his grasp just enough for your head to tilt back, allowing your eyes to meet his when he finally delivered a short, soft squeeze.
“That’s it,” he breathed against your skin, watching your bottom lip tremble before he leaned down to take it between his own. You whimpered into his mouth, your body tensing as the first wave of pleasure crashed through you, your fingers tightening around his wrist as if he might slip away.
“I got you… I got you…” he assured you, taking in the way your brows dipped as your body surrendered to the pleasure. His fingers slowed but didn’t stop, dragging out the build-up to release until your thighs shook against his hand, your breath coming in uneven gasps against his lips. “Mhmm, just like that. It’s okay. You can cum for me, angel.”
The moment you did, he swallowed your cry with his mouth, pressing you tighter against his chest as you curled into him, your fingers gripping his forearm. Colston hummed against your lips, kissing you slow and deep while his fingers eased their movements, gently guiding you through the aftershocks.
