Guess who's back with another Colin x Reader fic? This bitch. As stated in my previous fic, you either get it or you don't. And if you get it... then enjoy, sexy!
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, explicit sexual content, NSWF, oral sex, rough sex, primal play, choking, degradation, BDSM elements, semi-public sex, messy, aftercare included!
The winter air outside the afterparty was sharp enough to sting. Your driver was nowhere to be found, your phone lit up with 'running late' texts, and you were hugging yourself against the cold when his voice cut through the street chaos.
Colin leaned against the sleek black SUV parked down the block, the glow of a cigarette dangling in his mouth like he was auditioning for some noir film. His driver waited inside, engine purring, tinted windows gleaming under the Manhattan streetlights.
Your pulse kicked. You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks - not really. Not since you’d both agreed it was better to take a break, to stop letting the nights spiral so out of control. Not since the last time you swore you would never let him touch you again.
“You really think that’s a good idea?” You called back, shoving your hands into your coat pockets.
“I can control myself,” Colin said, deadpan, flicking the cigarette away and gesturing for you to come closer. His voice carried that dangerous calm you knew all too well. "Promise."
You laughed, but your stomach flipped. “I don’t believe you.”
That glint in his eye - sharp, wicked, unmistakeable - told you everything. But you walked towards him anyway.
The SUV swallowed you both in warmth and leather. Colin slid in beside you, driver up front, city flashing by through tinted glass.
At first it was easy. The two of you joked about the afterparty, spoke about mutual friends, about Scarlett. You told him about a date you’d been on recently. He raised an eyebrow, smirking.
“Did he fuck you as good as me?”
“Not everything is about you, Colin.” you shot back.
“Not everything,” he agreed smoothly. His knee pressed lightly against yours. “But that? That is.”
The heat under your skin burned. You looked at him and tried to hold steady, tried not to show him how badly your body already wanted to fold.
“I thought you said you could control yourself?” You whispered.
“I lied,” he said simply.
His hand slid to your thigh. You caught his wrist and for a second - a single heartbeat - you thought maybe you’d stopped it. His eyes met yours, dark, gleaming with hunger.
“You can push me away if you really want to,” he murmured. “I’ll stop.”
His mouth was on yours before you could breathe, brutal and hungry, biting more than kissing. His hands shoved your coat open, your shirt up, dragging at your bra until the cool air hit your nipples.
The sound he made - low, almost a growl - went straight to your cunt.
“Fuck, I missed this,” he muttered, already pushing your skirt up, fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties. “I missed how wet you get just from me looking at you.”
You gasped when he shoved two fingers inside without warning, his other hand clamping hard around your throat, pushing your head back agains the seat.
“Shhh,” he growled, thumb pressing against your clit, working you rough and fast. “Driver can hear you.”
That made you moan louder.
He chuckled darkly, biting at your eat as his fingers pumped mercilessly. “That’s it. Let him know. Let him wonder if I’ve got my cock buried in you back here.”
Your thighs shook, nails digging into his wrist. The car hit a pothole, rocking you down onto his hand, making you gasp. His grip on your throat tightened.
“Look at you. Fucking dripping,” he hissed, pulling his fingers out just to shove them between your lips. “Suck. Taste yourself.”
You obeyed, and his groan was obscene.
“Come here,” he said, pulling you across the seat and onto his lap. His cock was already out, heavy, hard, slapping against his stomach as he yanked your panties to the side.
“Colin- fuck- what about-“
“Shut up,” he snapped, dragging you down onto him in one brutal thrust. Your cry echoed in the SUV. His hand shot up to your mouth, muffling the sound.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Fucking tight. You missed me, didn’t you? Say it.”
You shook your head, biting down on his palm. He bucked up hard, making you scream into his hand.
“Say it,” he ordered again, thrusting up into you, punishing and relentless.
“I missed you,” you gasped when he finally let your mouth go. “God, I fucking missed you.”
“That’s my girl,” he growled, fucking you rough and deep, every thrust jarring your body against his. The city lights blurred past the tinted glass while he used you like he owned you.
Your orgasm tore through you sudden and brutal, clenching around him so hard he cursed into your neck. His pace went sloppy, rougher, chasing his own edge. You barely caught your breath before the SUV slowed.
You looked up, dazed. “Where- where are we?”
Colin smirked, wiping sweat from his brow, his hands still groping your ass, tight. “Hotel.”
The hotel room door slammed behind you. Colin shoved you up against it before the lock had even clicked. Your coat hit the floor. His mouth crashed onto yours, desperate, filthy, biting.
Clothes tore - shirt buttons popped, your skirt ripped at the seam, his tie wrapped around your wrists before you realised he’d even pulled it off.
He shoved you against the full-length mirror, hand between your shoulder blades, making you watch as he pushed into you from behind.
“Look at you,” he murmured, teeth dragging over your eat. “Fucked open, dripping down your thighs, and you’re still begging for it.”
Your eyes met his in the mirror - wild, ruined, hungry.
“You’re mine tonight,” he hissed, snapping his hips hard enough to rattle the mirror. “No one else’s. Mine.”
Your moans bounced off the glass, your breath fogging the reflection. His hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so you were forced to watch as he pounded into you, sweat dripping down his temples.
He didn’t stop until you were screaming, your orgasm breaking you apart, your legs collapsing under you. He caught you, dragged you to the bed, and ripped open a champagne bottle. The spray soaked your chest, your hair, his tongue chasing the drops down your skin.
“Round two,” Colin said, his voice dark silk, pushing you flat on your back and snaking the tie off of your wrists. “If you can walk out of this hotel tomorrow, then we’ve not done it right.”
The bubbles were still fizzing down your chest when Colin crawled up over you, licking the champagne from your skin. His tongue traced slow, possessive circles over your nipples before his teeth scraped hard enough to make you cry out.
You tried to push him back - half playful, half overwhelmed - but he caught your wrists in one brutal grip and slammed them down into the soaked sheets.
“Don’t you fucking move,” he growled. “Not unless I tell you to.”
The commanding snap in his voice made your cunt clench, hot and aching.
Colin smirked, feeling your body react. “You love it when I ruin you, don’t you? Love that only I can make you this way.”
Your breath caught. “I… I love it.”
“Louder,” He shoved two fingers into your mouth, choking you until spit leaked from the corners of your lips.
“I love it,” you gasped when he pulled them free. “I love when you break me.”
His grin was wicked. “Good girl.”
He flipped you over onto your stomach, yanked your ass up, and drove into you without warning, harder than before. The slick champagne-soaked sheets only made it messier, wetter, louder.
Every thrust shoved you forward, your tits sliding against the wet bedding, your moans muffled in the fabric until Colin fisted your hair and yanked your head back.
“No hiding,” he snapped, pounding into you so deep it knocked the air from your lungs. “I want to hear every scream, every fucking cry. I want the entire hotel to know what kind of slut you are.”
Your nails clawed at the sheets as he fucked you mercilessly, the sound of skin on skin drowned out only by your ragged moans.
“God, look at you,” Colin groaned, looking down at where you stretched around him. “Taking me like you were built for it. You’ve been starving for me, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” you gasped, shuddering under him. “Fuck, yes-“
His hand clamped on your throat, cutting off the word. “That’s right. Desperate little whore.”
The filth rolled off his tongue with venom, and it broke you. You came so hard you screamed, your entire body shaking around his cock, squeezing him until he nearly lost it.
But Colin wasn’t done. Not even close.
He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and trembling, before hauling you off the bed and shoving you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The Manhattan skyline glittered like a thousand eyes watching.
“Hands on the glass,” he ordered.
You obeyed, pressing your palms flat against the cold window, your breath fogging the view of the city below.
Colin kicked your legs apart, stepped in behind you, and slid into you again in on brutal stroke that had you crying out.
“God, yes.” He hissed against your ear, one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapping around your throat as he fucked you against the glass.
You knew that anyone could see you if they wanted to - if they just looked up. The danger made your body burn hotter. You locked eyes with your own reflection in the window - hair wild, eyes glazed - and the sight of him taking you raw, animalistic, while the city flashed below you made you shudder on the edge again.
Colin saw it. Felt it. “Don’t you dare come until I tell you.”
You whined, desperate and trembling.
“What was that?” His thrusts slowed to a punishing grind, his teeth biting into your neck. “Did you forget who’s in control here?”
“Good,” He fucked you harder, faster, pulling your hair back until your spine arched. “Because I’m not stopping until you’re screaming so loud Scarlett could hear it from across the fucking city.”
By the time he finally let you come again, your vision blurred, your knees buckled, and your voice was hoarse from screaming his name into the glass. He came with a violent curse, grinding you against the window, biting your shoulder until you thought he might leave a scar.
But when he finally pulled back, panting, sweat dripping, he still wasn’t done.
He grabbed a second champagne bottle, poured it over your tits, then shoved you down to your knees on the wet carpet.
You did as he asked, tongue out, lips slick as he poured in champagne. Then, without warning, he shoved his cock between them, still hard, still demanding.
“Round three,” he rasped, head tipped back, eyes wild. “And you’re not leaving this room until you’ve drained me dry.”
Your tongue burned as you swallowed around him, his cock sliding into your mouth, heavy and hard, filling you until tears pricked your eyes. Colin’s hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the back of your neck as he used your mouth like it belonged to him.
“Fuck-“ his groans cracked, low and rough, hips snapping forward until your throat ached. “You look perfect down there. Mine.”
Your jaw stretched wide, drool spilling down your chin until your chest glistened with it. The carpet beneath your skin was soaked, rough against your skin, but all you felt was him - thick, pulsing, relentless.
Colin pushed deeper, holding your head still while he thrust into your throat, ignoring your gagging whimpers. His voice turned harsh, feral.
“Take it. Every inch. You wanted that break, remember? You wanted space?” He yanked your hair back so you were staring up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks, your lips swollen around his cock. “Now look at you. Crawling back, choking on me. Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
Your throat worked around him as you gasped for air, the burn and the filth merging into something you craved. Your nails clawed at his thighs, urging him deeper.
“Fuck,” Colin hissed, fucking your mouth harder now, hips slamming forward until your nose pressed into his stomach. “You love it, don’t you? Love when I’m rough. Love being ruined by me.”
You moaned in response around him, and that was all it took. He cursed, brutal and desperate, holding your head down as he spilled down your throat. Hot, salty, overwhelming. He groaned your name like a prayer, eyes shut tight, chest heaving.
When he finally let you go, you collapsed onto your hands, coughing, spit and cum dripping down your chin onto the already soaked carpet.
Colin knelt beside you, grabbing your jaw, smearing the mess across your face with his thumb. “Look at you. Filthy. Beautiful.” He kissed you then, raw and hungry, licking his own taste from your lips.
But when he pulled back, his eyes had softened.
He scooped you up from the floor, carried you to the bed like you weighed nothing. The sheets were still damp from the champagne, but neither of you cared. He laid you down gently, brushing the hair from your face.
“Round four,” he murmured, voice softer now. “My turn.”
Before you could answer, his mouth was on you - not rough, not rushed. Gentle. Worshipful. His tongue traced slow, teasing circles over your clit, his hands holding your thighs open, grounding you with warmth instead of force.
You gasped, overwhelmed by the shift, your body trembling from the contrast. He hummed against you, patient, steady, building you slowly, carefully, until the tension coiled again - but this time, it wasn’t frantic or punishing. It was tender, coaxing, a release that made you melt instead of shatter.
Your orgasm washed over you like waved, softer but no less consuming, tears slipped from your eyes as you sobbed his name. Colin didn’t stop until you begged, and even then, he kissed your thighs, your hips, the curve of your stomach, working his way back up to your lips.
He gathered you into his arms, tucking you against his chest. His hand stroked your hair, soothing, steady.
“You okay?” He asked quietly, lips brushing your forehead.
You nodded, to wrung out to speak.
Colin pressed another kiss there, lingering. “Good girl.”
The sheets clung damp to your skin, your thighs trembling where his mouth had just left you. Your chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, and for a second, you thought you might float right out of your own body.
Colin kissed your temple, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. Soft, almost reverent.
“Don’t move,” he murmured, easing himself out of the bed.
You blinked, dazed, watching him pad barefoot across the ruined hotel room.
He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, dampening it, then returned to you. His touch was so careful it made your chest ache - wiping the sweat from your skin, blotting away the sticky champagne between your breasts, gently parting your thighs to clean where you were most raw and used.
You flinched at first - overstimulated, hypersensitive - but his hand smoothed over your hip, steadying you.
“Shh. Just me. You’re okay.” He whispered.
When he finished, he tossed the towel aside, poured two glasses of water from the minibar, and climbed back into bed, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you against him. He found the dry parts of the covers and tucked them higher, cocooning you both from the cool air.
“Drink,” he said, reaching for one of the glasses. He held it to your lips when your hands shook, tipping it slowly so you wouldn’t spill. You gulped greedily, then collapsed back against his chest.
Colin chuckled low. “That’s better. Hydration is sexy.”
You smacked weakly at his chest, but the laugh that escaped you was broken and breathless. He caught your hand, kissed your knuckles, then tucked it against his chest.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The city buzzed outside the window, neon lights flashing against the glass, but in the ruined hotel room, it was only quiet, steady breathing. His fingers traced lazy circles over your skin, grounding, soothing.
“You know,” he said eventually, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “You drive me insane. I tell myself I can handle a break, that I can behave. Then you show up looking like sin itself and…” his arm tightened around you momentarily. “Fuck the break.”
You hummed, too spent to reply properly, but you nuzzled closer to his chest. A response he seemed content with.
Colin kissed your hairline. “We’ll go slower next time,” he promised, though the glint in his eyes made you doubt he really meant it. “Tonight… I just couldn’t stop.”
And somehow, with his warmth wrapped around you, his heart thudding steady under your eat, you realised you didn’t ever want him to.
You let the world blur, your eyes heavy, your body finally at peace after hours of being torn apart and pieced back together by him.
And for the first time that night, the world was quiet.
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