Chapter 9: Dawn Devotion
The first thing Colt became aware of was not the pale, pre-dawn light seeping through the curtains, but a warm, wet pressure surrounding his cock. He stirred from the depths of sleep with a soft groan, his body responding before his mind could fully orient itself. The plush comforter was pooled around his waist, and the room was silent save for the faint, rhythmic sound of sucking and the quiet crackle of the dying lavender-scented candle on the nightstand.
He opened his eyes, his head lolling to the side on the pillow.
Lori was there, a silhouette of devotion in the half-light. Her blonde hair was a messy cascade over his thighs, her body curled beside him on the bed. Her lips were stretched taut around his girth, her head bobbing in a slow, deliberate rhythm that was both worshipful and voracious. She was taking him deep, her throat working around the head of his cock with a practiced ease that made his toes curl into the sheets.
“Mornin’, baby,” she mumbled around his shaft, her voice a husky, sleep-thickened vibration that traveled straight through his flesh to his core.
He could only grunt in response, his hands finding their way into her hair, not to guide her, but to feel the motion of her, to anchor himself in the reality of this bliss. She looked up at him then, her blue eyes glazed with a mixture of love and pure, unadulterated lust. A thin strand of saliva webbed from her lower lip to his skin, glistening in the dim light.
She picked up her pace, the sloppy, wet sounds growing louder, more obscene in the quiet room. One of her hands cupped his balls, rolling the heavy weight of them in her palm, while the other worked the base of his shaft in tandem with her mouth. She was a woman possessed, a creature of single-minded purpose. She deep-throated him until her nose was buried in the coarse hair at his base, gagging slightly before pulling back with a gasping, open-mouthed breath, only to dive right back down.
“Gonna make you cum,” she whispered, her words a hot promise against his wet skin. “Gonna drink every fucking drop. Need it, Colt. Need your taste in my throat to start my day.”
Her fervor was infectious, overwhelming. The coil of pleasure in his gut tightened, a familiar, urgent pressure building rapidly. He could feel the inevitable rise, a tidal wave of sensation gathering in his balls.
“Lori… I’m close,” he warned, his voice rough with sleep and building ecstasy. His fingers tightened in her hair.
That was all the encouragement she needed. She redoubled her efforts, her suction becoming fierce, her tongue lashing at the sensitive spot just beneath his crown. She wanted it all. She was demanding it.
With a guttural cry that was part relief, part surrender, he came. His hips bucked off the mattress, driving his cock deeper into her throat as the first powerful jet erupted. It was a thick, hot flood that hit the back of her mouth with force.
She didn’t pull away. She held him there, swallowing convulsively, greedily, as pulse after pulse filled her. But there was too much. It always overflowed. Pearlescent streaks spilled from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping down her chin and onto her neck, onto the rough turquoise pendant that rested between her collarbones. She kept sucking, milking him, until the last few spurts painted her face—a glistening stripe across one cheek, a droplet clinging to her eyelash.
When he was completely spent, softening in her mouth, she finally released him with a soft, wet pop. She stayed on her knees, panting, her face a beautiful, debauched mess. She used her fingers to gather the cum from her skin, sucking them clean with a obscene relish before swiping at the mess on her neck and chest, rubbing his seed into her skin like it was the most precious lotion.
“Good morning,” she said again, her voice now clear and filled with a deep, sated joy.
He reached for her, pulling her up by her shoulders until she was lying beside him, her head on his chest. He could feel the rapid, thumping beat of her heart against his side. “You’re insane,” he murmured into her hair, the same words he’d used in the pantry, but now filled with nothing but awe.
“You love it,” she stated, nuzzling into him.
“I do.”
They lay like that for a long while, watching as the sky outside the window shifted from deep indigo to a soft, bruised grey. The snow was falling again, fat, lazy flakes drifting past the glass. The world was utterly still.
Lori’s hand drifted down his stomach, her fingers tracing the lines of his hip. “The south fence line by the creek,” she said, her tone shifting seamlessly from lover to ranch owner. “The Johnson boys said it was looking pretty ragged when they were checking the herd yesterday. Think we need to run a new line before spring.”
Her fingers dipped lower, brushing through his pubic hair, finding his cock which was already, miraculously, beginning to stir again under her touch.
Colt let out a long, slow breath, his mind struggling to reconcile the two parallel realities. “The posts are probably rotted out. That soil’s always damp there.” He shifted, turning onto his side to face her, his hardening length pressing against her thigh. “We could use the treated lumber from the shipment that came in last month.”
“Mmhmm,” Lori agreed, her hand closing around him, beginning a slow, idle stroke. “But we’ll need the post-hole digger. The hydraulic one on the tractor is still acting up, isn’t it?”
Her grip tightened. He was fully hard again, thick and heavy in her hand. The conversation about fence posts and machinery was the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever known.
“Yeah, the seal’s blown. I’ll have to order the part.” He leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep, searching kiss. He could taste himself on her tongue, a faint, salty tang that sent a fresh jolt of possession through him. He broke the kiss, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “But right now, I need to be inside you.”
A slow, wicked smile spread across her kiss-swollen lips. “You are inside me,” she whispered, guiding the head of his cock to her other entrance, the tight, puckered ring of muscle between her ass cheeks. “Just not the usual door.”
He stilled, his breath catching. They had done this before, but not often. It was always her initiation, a gift she gave him when she felt particularly wanton, particularly his.
“You sure?” he asked, his voice thick.
In answer, she reached over to the nightstand, fumbling in the drawer for the small bottle of lube. The sound of the cap snapping open was loud in the quiet room. She poured the cool, clear gel into her palm, warming it for a moment before reaching back to slather it over his length, her strokes slick and sure. Then she coated her own rosebud, her fingers pressing gently, preparing herself.
“I’m sure,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his. “I want to feel you in my ass while I watch the sun come up. I want you to own every part of me, Colt.”
She moved then, shifting her body with a natural, fluid grace. She swung a leg over his hips, straddling him, her back to his chest. He watched, mesmerized, as the generous curves of her ass settled against his stomach. She reached behind herself, one hand guiding his slick cock, the other spreading herself open for him.
The head of his cock pressed against that incredible tightness. It was a different kind of pressure, a more intense, unforgiving friction. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her waist.
“Easy,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.
Lori took a deep, shuddering breath and began to sink down. It was a slow, inexorable descent. A low, guttural moan tore from her throat as the thick crown of him began to stretch her, breaching the tight ring of muscle. It burned, a bright, sharp pain that quickly blurred into a pleasure so profound it stole her breath. She could feel every millimeter of him, every vein, every pulse as she impaled herself on him.
“Oh, God… Colt…” she whimpered, her head falling back against his shoulder.
“Fuck, Lori… you’re so tight,” he groaned, his own vision swimming. The sensation was overwhelming, a hot, velvet vise gripping him like nothing else. He was buried to the hilt inside her ass, his pelvis pressed flush against her buttocks.
She stayed there for a long moment, both of them panting, adjusting to the shocking, intimate fullness. The snow continued to fall outside, the room growing lighter by the minute. Then, with a soft, determined sigh, she began to move.
She rose up, his cock sliding almost all the way out, the cool air a shock on his wet skin, before she sank back down, taking him deep once more. She set a slow, grinding rhythm, a sensual roll of her hips that was less about frantic passion and more about a deep, soul-level connection. Each time she descended, he could feel the clench of her internal muscles, a rhythmic pulse that milked him relentlessly.
“The… the water troughs in the north pasture,” she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. “They’ll… they’ll need the heaters checked… today.”
Her words, so practical, so mundane, spoken while she was fucking her own ass on his cock, drove him wild. He met her rhythm, thrusting up into her tight, clenching heat.
“I’ll… take the truck out after… after this,” he managed to grunt, his hands roaming from her hips to cup her heavy, pendulous breasts. He pinched her nipples, rolling the hardened peaks between his fingers, and she cried out, her back arching.
“Yes… oh, fuck, right there… don’t stop,” she begged, her business-like tone evaporating into pure, raw need. “Your cock feels so good in my ass, baby. So deep.”
The pace began to quicken. The slow, sensual grind became something more primal, more urgent. The slapping sound of their bodies meeting mixed with their ragged breaths and the creak of the bedsprings. Colt drove into her again and again, his view the perfect, swaying curve of her back, the sight of his own shaft, glistening with lube, disappearing into her body. He was losing himself in her, in the dark, forbidden heat of her.
“I’m gonna cum,” he growled, his control shattering. “Gonna fill your perfect ass.”
“Do it,” she panted, pushing back against him frantically. “Breed my ass, Colt. Make it yours.”
Her filthy words were the final trigger. With a roar that was torn from the depths of his soul, he came, his orgism even more intense than the first, a searing, blinding release that seemed to drain him of everything. He pumped his seed deep into her bowels, his body shuddering violently with the force of it.
Lori felt the hot flood inside her, the pulsing of his cock, and it threw her over the edge. Her own climax crashed over her, a wave of convulsing pleasure that clenched around his still-throbbing length, milking him for every last drop. She collapsed forward onto the bed, pulling him with her, both of them spent and breathless.
He stayed inside her for a long time, both of them boneless, listening to the sound of their own heartbeats slow. The room was fully light now, the grey dawn having given way to a soft, golden sunrise that reflected off the snow and filled the room with a clean, pale radiance.
Finally, he softened and slipped out of her. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, tucking her against his side. She curled into him, her head on his chest, her leg thrown over his. The turquoise necklace was cool against his skin.
They lay in silence, the scent of sex and lavender hanging heavy in the air. The ranch outside was waking up. They could hear the distant lowing of cattle, the crow of a rooster from the coop near the barn.
“I’ll call about that hydraulic seal today,” Colt said quietly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her shoulder.
Lori smiled, a contented, sleepy smile. “And I’ll make a list for town. We’re low on feed.” She tilted her head up to look at him. “And lube.”
He laughed, a low, genuine sound that rumbled through his chest and into hers. He kissed her forehead. “Sounds like a plan.”
The day awaited, with all its chores and responsibilities. But for now, in the warm sanctuary of the bed, with the snow piling up on the windowsill and the memory of his possession etched into her very flesh, they were just Colt and Lori. And it was enough. It was everything.