Chapter 41 #2
“Mom,” he says sternly. “Not every conversation has to lead to marriage. Can you cool it, please? Ariana and I haven’t been together very long, and you’re going to scare her off. We’re nowhere near marriage.”
I try to keep my expression even and unaffected, but I can't help the tinge of doubt that curls under my skin. Obviously we have not been together long enough for marriage to be on the table, but I'd like to think it's a possibility. That maybe one day it would be on the table.
Cole has taken me by surprise in lots of ways during our short time together. But marriage is a much bigger commitment than dating. More permanent. And he might never want it.
Pushing my thoughts on the matter to the furthest my mind will allow, I try my best to move on from it. Marriage and whatever comes after it is a conversation for another day.
We have plenty of time. No need to rush things.
Cristina puts on a tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes and quietly exhales a defeated breath as a tinge of awkwardness enters the atmosphere around us. "You're right," she says evenly. "But you're not getting any younger."
He groans, his head flopping back as he mutters a curse.
It's clear she just wants her son to be happy but Cole sees it as some kind of personal invasion. An expectation he's not meeting.
Meanwhile his Wela hasn't left the small dance floor, enjoying herself, and I think we'd all be a lot happier if we took a page out of her book instead.
"Want a little tour before dinner starts?" he asks me, his gaze desperate.
My eyes scan the group, in case anyone would take offense if we slipped away for a bit, but no one seems to mind, or really be paying attention.
"Sure."
Cole's version of a tour is more like dragging me upstairs to his office. He snicks the door shut as soon as we're inside, resting his back against it. "I'm sorry about my mom. I told you how she is but I'm sorry if she made you uncomfortable."
I shrug, leaning on his desk. I don't want to think about the conversation right now. And based on Cole's expression, he doesn't either. "Moms can be like that. It's really not a big deal."
Neither one of us bothered to turn on the light, leaving us shadowed with the bright March sun filtering through the slats of the closed blinds.
We're silent for a beat. Cole still at the door, me still against his desk, our stares welded even from across the room.
"Croissant," Cole says finally.
I let out a breathy laugh. "You're supposed to say that downstairs. Not when it's just us."
He raises his shoulder casually, a wolfish grin spread across his face. "I'll remember that for next time."
"So this is your office?" I ask, my eyes bouncing around the walls. It's not particularly unique. Generic art and a few awards hung on the walls. No pictures. Nothing personal.
"Yeah. What do you think? Kind of basic, huh?"
My hand runs along the dark mahogany wood at my hip. "I like your desk," I offer.
He lavishes his gaze over me. "You should sit on it."
"What?" I giggle. "Why?"
His hand reaches behind him and twists the lock on the door handle before he crosses over to me. "Sit on the desk, Ariana." The rough timbre of his voice has excitement mounting at the apex of my thighs, and I find my body moving on his command before I've given it permission to do so.
My bottom meets the flat surface of his desk, the wood cool enough to feel through the thin fabric of my dress.
Cole erases the space between us in a single stride and my legs part of their own volition.
He wastes no time wedging himself between the V of my thighs as his hands gather the hem of my dress and slide it up past my knees.
The tips of his fingers continue their journey until I feel them skim the fabric of my panties.
"Is it bad that it turns me on to have the sweet little doll of the Ledger family sitting on my desk with her legs spread and pussy drenched, about to get fucked by the competition?"
His words light a fuse within me, heat unfurling with each passing second.
The forbiddenness of his claim, no matter how exaggerated, stirs to life something untamed. Something wild. It scratches this deep-rooted itch that's always existed but I've been too afraid to indulge in. The desire to not be such a good girl. To be naughty.
I bite down on my bottom lip to quiet the needy sound gathered in my throat but it slips out the moment Cole drags a finger over the lace covering the split of my pussy.
"So wet, baby," he praises. "Want me to fill you up?"
"Yes," I whimper.
He unzips his fly, pulling out his cock, and pumping it in his fist as he guides it toward my aching core. "This is going to be fast and rough."
I nod as I lower to flatten my back across the desk, my legs widening, inviting him in.
I expect him to pull down my thong before slotting in, but instead he yanks it to the right and spits over my opening. He rams me with his rigid shaft, bottoming out in one thrust.
The oxygen in my lungs vacates from the sheer force. "Oh, God, Cole!"
There's no catching my breath because a moment later, his hand skates up my chest and wraps around my throat.
"Fuck," he pants. "You look pretty being choked. Almost as pretty as you do gagging on my cock."
I struggle to focus, my senses overwhelmed, drugged by the power of his maddening rhythm and relentless grip.
I feel like his treasured possession, laid out like a meal to be devoured as his hungry eyes stay fused to mine.
The desk shakes and rattles beneath me with each rock of his hips, papers falling, pens rolling onto the floor. His pace is deliciously brutal, and I know my orgasm isn't far off.
He releases my neck and I gasp, sucking in air, stars dotting my vision.
"I made this little hole to fit me just right, didn't I?"
"Yes," I hiss, my pussy clenching around him, pulsing me toward my climax. "Just for you."
He pushes my knees into my armpits, folding me in half, and his cock slides in further, impossibly deep. My dress is a crumpled heap at my waist, but I couldn't care less. The rasp of our clothing seems magnified, adding an air of urgency. So overcome we couldn't be bothered to undress.
Cole jackhammers me, pounding me into oblivion. It's the roughest he's ever claimed me, and my senses are too overloaded with pleasure to feel an ounce of shame about it. This is bliss, it's ecstasy.
He rubs my clit with the pad of his thumb and I'm practically flung over the edge of the cliff, coming hard on a scream.
Cole is right behind, his orgasm rippling with mine.
Afterward we stay still for a moment, both catching our breath, the only sound in the room the rapid thud of my own heartbeat.
Then reality sets in. "We have to go back to dinner," I say to the ceiling.
Cole chuckles, low and slightly breathless. "We do."
"Your family is going to take one look at me and know we snuck away to have sex."
"No they won't. They probably haven't even noticed we're gone."
I lift my head to give him a pointed look. "I'm a mess. My dress is probably wrinkled to no end and I'm going to have cum running down my legs."
He tosses me a scheming smirk before moving.
"What are you doing?"
"You said you were a mess." He lowers his head, disappearing from view. "Let me clean you up."
My lust-fogged brain can hardly comprehend him, but understanding hits me quick when the familiar stroke of his tongue licks between my seam.
My back arches off the desk, a loud moan floating past my lips. Much to my surprise, heat begins to blossom within me again, despite still experiencing lingering aftereffects of the orgasm that just hit me.
Knowing that Cole is tasting our shared releases, pleasuring me with that slickness—it's unraveling me completely.
I shouldn't like it, I shouldn't be enjoying the taboo nature of a man eating his cum out of me, but clearly my body thinks otherwise.
"We taste good together, baby."
I lift my head enough to see Cole's steely blue eyes gleaming at me from between my legs.
This man is wicked, and I think I'm addicted to him.
I can hear his tongue's languid flicks, and slowly a second release is coaxed out of me. This one not nearly as striking as the last, but still satisfying.
He licks me some more before voyaging up my body and hovering his face over mine. My mouth drops open without thought and he spits our cum in my mouth.
The entire act is so sensually filthy, so wrong I'm practically giddy.
After pausing a moment so the fog can clear, we pull ourselves together. Despite Cole's attempt at cleaning me up, I look properly disheveled. There's just no way to recover smoothly from an encounter like that.
I shoo Cole to head back to the reception while I make a pit stop to the women's restroom so I can attempt to straighten up more.
I feel immediately relieved when I notice there isn't a line, but my luck runs short when I step inside and see Whitney touching up her makeup.
I move to spin on my heels, not wanting to interrupt the bride, rushing out an apology for intruding, when her voice stops me.
"Wait," Whitney calls out.
I turn back around, fingers crossed this isn't about to be some weird interaction with Cole's ex. "Yes?" I smile brightly.
She extends her hand. "I'm Whitney."
"Ariana," I say as my hand meets hers.
"I was wondering if I'd get a chance to meet you, or if Cole would keep us apart the whole wedding." There isn't even a hint of a bite in her tone. She seems genuinely happy to have run into me, which I wasn't expecting.
"I'm sure Cole's mentioned some of our history," she says.
"He has. Not a ton, but I know you two go way back."
She laughs. "All the way back to diapers.
" Her smile eases into something more reflective.
"At one point I really did think this day would be me and Cole.
I was kind of mad at him for a long time for messing up the picture I had in my head of what my life would look like.
And then I met Jacob, and I realized I wasn't actually mad at Cole at all.
I was just holding onto an idea that was never really ours to begin with. "
"You two seem like a really good fit," I offer.
"We are. In all the ways Cole and I never were.
" She studies me for a moment. "I'm sure you're thinking I'm some crazy ex, but I promise I'm not.
I've just been sneaking glances at you two all evening, and I needed to tell you—I've known Cole a long time.
I know how guarded he is. How hard it is to get past all of that.
" She looks at me directly. "Whatever you did to unlock that fortress he keeps everyone out of, don't let go of it.
Because I tried for years and never got close to what I saw tonight just watching him look at you. "
My throat tightens unexpectedly.
"I just think you deserve to know that what you have with him is something really rare," she adds softly. "I'm really glad he finally let someone in."
"Thank you," I manage. "Really. And congratulations—you and Jacob seem wonderful together."
Her whole face softens. "We really are." She picks up her clutch. "We both found the right people in the end. Just not each other."
She slips out and I stand at the mirror for a moment, looking at my reflection.
All the insecurities that had been quietly gnawing at me all day feel a little smaller now.
I straighten my dress, smooth my hair one last time, and head back out.
I rejoin the table just in time for dinner to be served, a small portion of chicken marsala.
Cole's eyes find me the second I sit down, moving over my face with a quick, private assessment. His hand finds mine under the table without a word.
As I'm taking a bite of food, he leans close to my ear. "Good thing I already ate," he winks. "Or else I'd leave here starving."
I shake my head slowly, fighting a smile.
He's ridiculous. Ridiculous and mine, and definitely the best match for me.