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“Do you think we’ll continue?” I tease.
“Definitely.”
“Then shouldn’t you take your shirt off too?”
He does it so fast it’s like he’s been practicing for this moment all year. Every day, he times himself.Faster, Cole, faster. Damn it.TheRockysoundtrack plays in the background.
Now I’m the one who’s gone mute as he sits shirtless above me.Honestly, Cole. How dare you cover up every day in those suits?Leavingthisto the imagination? So cruel ...
Since he took his sweet time exploring me, I do the same. I walk my fingers up his chest, over every subtle ridge and valley, taking detailed notes in my mind. Later, I’ll be able to draw his body to scale, including elevations, like an expert cartographer. I make it all the way to his collarbone, and then I decide I haven’t had enough so I start again. But before I can, Cole reaches out and snatches my wrist with the reflexes of a viper.
He doesn’t give an explanation; it’s not needed. Cole’s impatience is heating the air between us. His hunger is feeding mine. While he keeps hold of my wrist with one hand, his other hand traces the top of my panties. Ever so slowly, like he’s trying to catalog every last thread, he drags the pad of his finger along there. I’m flushed and needy. Every one of my nerve endings seems to have been brought to the surface. He eases off me a little. I twist my hips, and he slides his hand lower, over the soft satin material that covers me. His hand disappears between my legs, and then I feel him brush two fingers across the center of me.Oh, Cole.
I squeeze my eyes closed, partly in embarrassment, partly to keep from succumbing to his touch too quickly. I could. I mean, how long have I wanted this? How good does it feel to finally have Cole’s hand where I want it, toying with me, teasing the material of my panties aside so that his fingers can touch me—skin to skin. I writhe underneathhim, and he smiles. I don’t even need to open my eyes to see it. Iknowit’s there.
“I like when you whimper,” he tells me with a cocky edge to his tone.
And then he rubs his fingers across the most sensitive part of me, and a small moan twists its way out of my throat.
I want more but I don’t know how to ask for it, don’t know how to even force an actual word out of my mouth with consonants and vowels. But then Cole doesn’t need my help. He delivers all on his own as his finger presses slowly inside me. Then he draws it back out and adds a second.
My hand finds his wrist, and I squeeze with a plea.
Continue. Continue FOREVER!
He chuckles under his breath, and then he shifts, lowering himself to the side of me so his hand can stay where it is between my legs but his mouth can find mine.
He sinks his fingers in deeper, and I gasp for air just before he kisses me, stealing the last few shreds of common sense I had left.
It feels like too much to have so much of his attention focused on me, but it’s like he wants me like this, completely at his mercy, rolling my hips up to meet his hand, fidgety, needy, totally on edge.
His mouth and his hand are savage now. His lips. His fingers. His teeth. It’s all a blur. I feel so consumed. I’m hot, hotter,hottest—and then I come apart, crying his name like I’m almost in pain. Those little flashes of light behind my closed lids, the tendrils of pleasure lashing through me. Cole sees it all, the purest part of me, and when I’m done and I blink my eyes open and stare at him, I think I recognize love in his gaze. But then he kisses me again, tender and sweet, and when he pulls back, he assesses me with a lazy smile.
Now here is where wewouldcontinue. I mean, some could argue that we absolutelyhave tocontinue. He’s supposed to crawl up over me and sink into me and we’d go at it all night long.
And for the record, I do argue for it.
When he stands up to go into the bathroom after my orgasm to end all orgasms, I sit up, confused.
“Wait, what aboutyou?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t you want to ... y’know?”
“Not tonight.”
“What?! Whynottonight?”
He doesn’t answer, so I’m forced to scramble off the bed and follow him. He’s at the sink washing his hands. Then he reaches for his toothbrush like it’s any ol’ night! Gotta keep the chompers pearly white!
I blink fast, trying to piece together what’s happening. “Wait ... are you a virgin?”
He’s trying not to laugh now. “Paige ... it’s not that.”
He finally looks at me in the mirror, and though he just had me splayed out underneath him on the bed, the sight of me naked in the doorway still stops him in his tracks.
For the record, I’m wholly unperturbed by my nakedness. I have a good body. You don’t hike thirty-plus miles a week without having some kick-ass legs to show for it. And he’s seen all of me now. Felt it, too, so what do I care about being naked? Besides, I have more serious issues to contend with, like why Cole isn’t currently railing me on that bed.
