Chapter 24
Cole
SHE DOESN’T NEED LESSONS
Ariana is still holding my hand when we stop in the hallway outside our door.
I’m not sure which one of us slows first. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she turns toward me in the dim light and looks up at me with those blue eyes still slightly hazy from the sparkling wine and the kiss, and I lose whatever was left of my restraint.
I back her against the wall again—gently, my hand cushioning the back of her head before she meets it—and kiss her the way I’ve been wanting to since she walked down those stairs in that dress. Slow and deep and without an audience to perform for. Just her mouth and mine.
She makes a needy sound against my lips and her hands find my chest, fingers tugging the fabric of my shirt like she can’t get close enough.
I take control of the kiss, slowing us down a notch. Only so I don’t do something stupid and fuck her in this open hallway like my dick would prefer. I definitely can’t do that yet. But there are so many other things we can do instead.
“Can I kiss you?” My lips are a breath from hers, my body pressing her further into the wall.
“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” A little smartass smile plays at the corner of her mouth.
I dip my head and inhale her sugary scent before trailing kisses down the smooth curve of her neck, each one slower than the last. I make my way back up unhurried, my lips brushing against her skin as I speak. “Can I kiss you somewhere else?”
She goes tense against the wall as her rounded eyes stare into mine. “Somewhere else like…” She trails off, cheeks blushing bright enough to see even in the shadows.
“Yeah,” I say simply. “I really want to. Been wondering for a while if your pussy is as sweet as I’ve been imagining.”
She stares at me, processing it all. “You really want to?” she asks skeptically, like it’s unbelievable that I would want to give her pleasure.
I don’t know who’s convinced this woman she’s not desirable, but I’m fucking sick of it.
I thrust the lower half of my body against her so she can feel just how hard my cock is.
“Feel that? Feel how hard I am for you? Does that feel like charity to you? Like I’m only wanting to do something out of obligation?
Like I’m not dying to eat your pussy? Believe me, I want you.
I want to bury my face between your thighs and lick your pussy until you scream, until you’re coming on my tongue. ”
“I’ve never—” she starts.
“I know.”
“So I don’t know if I’ll—”
“You will.” She’ll come, I’ll make sure of it. I’ll drown in her if I have to. “But only if you want to. I’m not trying to force you, this is your decision. We can go back right now and I’ll spend the rest of the night keeping my hands to myself, being the perfect gentleman.”
She drags in an inhale, but for all the hesitancy flickering across her face, there’s curiosity there too. Want. Need. She wants it, I know she does. I just need her to be brave enough to own it.
Before I can say one last thing to put her at ease, to reassure her, she reaches for me, crossing her hands around my neck, tangling her fingers in my hair, and pressing her lips to mine.
This is the first time she’s been the one to initiate something physical between us. To kiss me first, to touch me unprompted.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to feel wanted. Needed her to show me that some part of her does feel this too.
It’s everything I need to stop overthinking and just let go.
I grab her hips roughly, sliding my hands around the curve of her ass, bending to grab her thighs and lift her off the floor, never breaking our connection.
I’ll never understand why Ariana thinks she’s too heavy for me. I can lift three times her weight on a bad day. I can more than handle her, and I’ve been dreaming about feeling her thick thighs wrapped around my waist for so long that when I finally do, the relief of it nearly undoes me.
With one hand supporting her, I use the other to reach behind her and open the door.
The room is dark except for the pale light coming from the small bedside lamp and the moon reflecting off the lake through the windows, the lake beyond a black mirror under the winter sky.
I gently lower her onto the bed, coming down with her. She scoots up until her head lands on the pillows as my knees slide across the comforter, one planted between her legs to keep them from closing up on me.
Her dress is bunched on her upper thighs, a few more inches and I’d be graced with the view of her panty-covered pussy.
I sit up to take in every beautiful piece of her beneath me.
Her hair fanned out on the pillow, her swollen, pouty lips, creamy skin pink and heated, eyes so trusting as they look up at me.
The fact that this gorgeous, amazing, way too fucking good for me woman is allowing me to touch her, to be the first man lucky enough to taste her—it’s a goddamn privilege I do not take lightly. It’s my fucking honor.
She gnaws on her bottom lip, eyes still trusting but also blinking nervously.
“You still with me?”
She nods, breathing ragged.
I can tell she’s nervous as hell, I can feel the trembling of her body.
And I’m not sure what comes over me, but I bend down to place a kiss on the tip of her nose, cupping her face in my hands like the precious creature she is.
I kiss her cheek, then the other. Her chin, her forehead, dotting kisses all over her face.
“Stay with me,” I whisper. “Relax, baby. Let me make you feel good.” Shifting, I prop one hand on the pillow and use my free one to roam the side of her body, skimming over the fabric of her dress to trace her mesmerizing curves like a man wanting to commit the shape of her body to memory—if only to recreate it with clay like the goddamn work of art she is.
Slowly, the tension releases from her, her back starting to curve off the bed, head tipping, neck rolling back.
I travel down to her neck, leaving a wet kiss on the spot I know she loves, right where the curve of her shoulder starts.
“Oooh.” She moans.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, making sure to meet her eyes.
“Good.” She swallows, nodding. “I like everything you’re doing.”
Pride washes over me. I know she’s nervous about all this, but so am I. I’ve never cared this much about getting it right, but the thought of disappointing her or pushing her where she’s not ready to go has me questioning every decision.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
She nods quickly. “Yes, please.”
I bite my smile, loving seeing some eagerness in her. It tells me I’m doing something right.
“We can stop at any point. Your call.”
“I know,” she says. “I trust you.”
My heart constricts. She said she trusted me last night, but hearing it in person, after she’s given me permission to touch her body, there’s an entirely different weight to the trust. And I intend to do everything I can to keep it, to keep her looking at me like that.
With the consent to proceed, I move back, sliding closer to the foot of the bed. Lying on my stomach, settled between her parted legs, I press a kiss to the inside of her knee.
She inhales sharply, pulling her legs further apart.
Another kiss, higher, and her fingers find the comforter and grip it tighter.
“Still okay?” I ask against her inner thigh.
“Yes,” she says, slightly breathless. “Very okay.”
Softly chuckling, I hook my fingers into the waistband of her underwear and draw it down slowly, and she lifts her hips to help me.
They’re cotton, trimmed in lace. Pink of course, and surprisingly a thong. I was imagining much more tame panties.
Makes me wonder what kind she wears on the daily. If the good girl behind the counter, making coffee with a sweet smile, has been wearing sexy little panties this entire time.
I finish dragging them off her and tuck them in my pocket for later.
I look up at her from where I am and she’s propped on her elbows watching me with an expression that is equal parts nervous and wanting, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
Using both hands, I push out her knees until her dress gathers higher on her waist and her pussy comes into view.
And fuck, I was not ready for what the sight of it would do to me.
She’s clearly wet, pussy lips pink and puffy and glistening.
I catch the drool pooling in my mouth before it drips from the corners.
“Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen.” I lick my lips. “Goddamn,” I mutter to myself.
She giggles. “Sure it is.”
Does she think I’m fucking kidding right now? “I’m dead serious, doll. I’ll be dreaming about your pussy until the day I die.”
Her smile slowly dissolves, replaced with heat lighting her eyes.
My girl needs relief. Badly.
I lower my head until my mouth hovers over all her wet heat.
She smells incredible, so much so I’m tempted to swipe my nose between her slit, but right now is all about her, so I sweep my tongue in one long, languid lick, gathering her arousal for a proper taste.
Her body responds immediately, hips lifting, an uncontrollable twitch as a gasp flies out of her.
“Oh my God.”
She tastes phenomenal. Fuck those chocolate croissants, I’ll be needing to eat this pussy daily. Best damn thing I’ve ever had.
I hook my arms around her thighs to keep her from moving and dive back in for more. I suck her clit between my lips, desperate for all that sweet pussy juice.
She’s a mess of moans and sighs, whimpering when my tongue swirls in just the right spot.
It occurs to me I should tell her to keep it down, but I’m pretty sure everyone is still in the game room, and no way in hell am I going to say or do anything to keep her from enjoying every bit of this.
Her fingers find my hair, digging in painfully.
I’m not even sure she’s aware of it, or acting on pure need, but it’s so fucking sexy feeling her use me, taking what she wants.
In a risky move, I lift her hips slightly and let my tongue run down the center of her pussy until I reach her ass, where I lick a small circle around her tight little hole.