Chapter 7 - Sofia
Cole looks shell-shocked. There’s something wild and unguarded about his eyes. Like he’s raw, filleted and left to keep fighting. But he keeps me pressed to his chest like I’m his to protect, take care of, and warm. I hate how much I like it, how much I want to keep him like this.
Not that I want to keep getting hurt or almost hurt, but to see him actually being more than repressed is ... astounding. It’s overwhelming. I swallow with difficulty when we get to the guest house and he sets me down long enough to open the door and help me through.
He’s moving with purpose, like everything else has fallen away. His hand stays wrapped around mine as he opens the door.
I clear my throat, suddenly aware of how soaked I still am. “I—I have some men’s sweats. In case it gets cold. I want to be comfortable,” I add, flustered. “They might fit you. I can dry your clothes and—”
Cole doesn’t look back. Not at the house. Not at anything else.
He’s watching me.
Before I can finish the thought, he lifts me again, kicks the door shut behind us, and carries me straight to the counter.
He sets me on it carefully, close enough that my knees brush his hips.
His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks as he pushes my damp hair back.
Then he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my neck.
“Cole,” I whimper, my hands hovering uselessly at my sides. I don’t touch him. I don’t want to break this.
“You’re okay,” he breathes. “You’re alive. That’s enough.”
His mouth traces along my pulse, slow and grounding. My face burns, heat rushing everywhere at once, but I don’t care. He’s here. He’s touching me. He didn’t walk away.
“You said…” I swallow. “You said you regretted last time.”
He stills.
Drawing back, he cups my face in both hands, searching my expression like he needs to be sure. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. “If you don’t want this.”
He leans closer, forehead nearly touching mine. “Or tell me you want this as much as I do.”
“I want you,” I whisper.
That’s all I get out before he kisses me.
It’s hungry, but with an edge that’s so tender and soft, so pleading and hopeful that I can’t avoid a moan.
His tongue swirls with mine and he coaxes me closer, pulling my legs around his hips.
He massages my thigh with one hand while holding the nape of my neck in the other.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says between kisses before his hands find the hem of my shirt and pull it off, tossing it to the side.
He takes off his own shirt too, tossing it with a wet thwack.
I pant and slowly touch his chest, enjoying the sprinkling of chest hair, and the line of hair that leads down his abs, under his belly button, and to his crotch. “Such good fucking care of you.”
“Cole, you ...”
He undoes my shorts and I lift my hips, willing, welcoming, everything. He’s a fantasy. I’ve fantasized about him almost nightly. I’ve touched myself so much that I can barely get myself off anymore because I expect it all.
His mouth melds to mine, like it’s made to kiss me, like he’s made to be right here. His hands slide up the back of my thighs to cup my ass and he brings me closer to him, so I feel the chill of his belt against my belly. When one of his fingers traces my pussy lips, I gasp and draw back.
Cole doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t hesitate, he just kisses down my chest, biting my bra and growling in his throat as he tries to rip it from my skin. The thin cotton snaps back into place and I whimper as he traces my pussy lips again.
“W-wait, I ...” I moan as he licks my nipple through the thin cotton and tries biting again, his teeth grazing me through the fabric, teasing me.
I gently cup his face in my hands. I don’t want him to run, but I don’t want to lie to him either.
I lick my lips as I study his eyes. “I haven’t done this before. Not with ... not with anyone.”
He pauses for a moment, a moment I’m terrified is going to mean he’s not going to follow through, that he’s going to pull away again. Instead, he takes a slow breath. I stroke through his hair, nibbling my raw bottom lip, then lean in to kiss him slowly, running my tongue between his lips gently.
“This is my first time. You’re my first,” I whisper. “I’m okay with this. Are ...”
“You’ll never need another man,” he growls, pulling me closer and kissing me with near feral intensity, like he can brand his passion and hunger on me.
He picks me up, his finger still teasing my pussy again and again, stroking, working me up, making me so wet that I can feel how empty I am.
“Not after what I’m going to show you, give you, how good I’m going to make you feel. ”
He drops me into bed gently, then lays me back, one hand working the clasp on my bra until the band loosens. I pry it off, tossing it.
“So beautiful, soft, warm,” he lists, continuing to stroke my sides, to layer kisses across my neck and chest. “All mine to appreciate and savor. Mine to make come.”
I whimper, sure he’s going to go as wild and insane as he has in my fantasies, but he takes his time, slowly kissing across my breasts, paying special attention to my nipples until I’m nearly convinced I can come from that alone.
“Cole,” I moan.
“Say my name, beautiful Sofia. Sing it,” he growls against my skin as he continues down my belly. “So sweet, so responsive, so wonderful.”
I slide my fingers into his hair, hold him, grip his shoulder, welcome him to drag my underwear down my thighs as his mouth and the light scratch of the beard he has coming in tease my hips and upper thighs.
His eyes flit up to mine. “I’m going to take all your firsts, gorgeous. All that you’ll let me have, I’ll turn into ecstasy.”
I nod weakly. “I trust you.”
He grins and stretches to kiss me hungrily, to tease me with quick, light flicks of his tongue, the same way he used his tongue on my nipples, the way I’m sure he’s going to keep using it all across my body until I only remember his name.
“Cole,” I pant against his lips.
“That’s right, Sofia. Keep saying my name, keep letting me make you feel good,” he purrs while gently fingering me. “All you have to do is enjoy it.”
I want to argue with him, but the way he uses his fingers over my clit, across my pussy, teasing my entrance again and again.
I fall into the rhythm of his fingers, rolling my hips against his hand to try to get them where I want, moaning between soul-stealing, pleasure-feeding kisses that Cole keeps giving me until I can barely breathe, definitely can’t think, and feel like I exist for him alone.
“You want my fingers buried right here?” He asks, stroking just outside my entrance again.
“Yes,” I whimper.
“Ask, beautiful,” he says against my mouth, making each word dirtier than the last. “Ask me to finger you.”
“Cole,” I breathe his name. “Finger me ... please.”
He slides one finger into me. I want more. I need more. Even if his finger is big and the way he uses it makes me sees stars, I know I can take more. I know he’s bigger than that from feeling him against my inner thigh and my belly.
“More, Cole, please. I want you. I want you,” I chant.
He groans and kisses down my body. When he gets back to my nipple, swirling his tongue, stroking, sucking, he eases a second finger into me, spreading me open, curling against my g-spot, giving me everything I need so my body bucks and obeys every command he purrs against my skin.
“Such a good girl. I love how responsive you are. You don’t need anyone but me,” he growls. “Just me, pleasing your pussy the way you need.”
A little whimper teases the back of my throat, but when he works a third finger into me, I moan.
It’s a breathy, raspy sound, but his answering groan says plenty.
He keeps it up, keeps using his fingers deep inside me, the heel of his hand against my clit while he lavishes my breasts with his mouth.
My eyes roll back and I grip his shoulder and the sheets as I come apart. He groans with me, spreading his fingers inside me and panting. “That’s one. We won’t be able to count your orgasms by morning.”
“Cole.”
“Next, you’re going to come all over my tongue,” he says.
And Cole keeps his word. His tongue works between my legs so perfectly, so wonderfully, that I don’t even think about denying him.
He murmurs orders against my pussy, tells me to give him what he wants, tells me to finish for him, tells me not to hold back all while working me up higher and higher.
I come for his tongue, then he simply moves his mouth up to my clit and works his fingers back into me.
He works me up again and again, bringing me to the edge until I want to crawl away because I’m so overstimulated that even his breath across my thigh makes me tremble.
“Cole!” I whine in a horse voice.
He takes off his pants and stands at the foot of the bed, looking me over in a way that feels reverent. Like he’s worshiping me with his eyes. But my gaze is slowly dipping to his very hard, very large cock. I shudder and fight the urge to close my legs.
“I’m clean, sweetheart.”
“I trust you,” I whisper.
He gently strokes my foot, then his fingers wrap around my ankle. He tugs me down, ignoring how messy his hair is, how wet his chin is, how soaked his fingers are. He’s a ravished mess and I love seeing it. I lick my bottom lip when my ass brushes the edge of the bed.
“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says gently.
He goes back to my clit, light strokes that make me whimper and spread my legs even further. I want him so badly that I can’t breathe. The head of his cock eases into me slowly and I tense, preparing for pain, but Cole stops. He pants, slow, heavy.
“Easy. I don’t want to hurt you. Relax,” he soothes, still working my clit, but gently pushing on my lower belly. He leans in and kisses me gently, softly, then thrusts again. I gasp against his mouth, but he kisses me deeper. “Touch me, Sofia.”
“Cole, don’t stop. Too slow. Please,” I beg.
He groans and thrusts into me harder, sliding deeper. Over and over until I moan and dig my nails into his shoulders. “Cole!”
“Should I-”
“Don’t you dare stop!” I order.
He groans and gives me one more thrust, burying himself deep inside me. My eyes open wide, focused on the blazing, hot blue of his eyes as his lips part, just before his eyes roll back. I drag my nails down his arms lightly and pant.
‘Good girl,” he praises. “I knew you’d take me well. I knew you’d love every thrust.”
And he proves it, drawing almost all the way out of me to thrust again and again.
When I try to close my legs around his hips, he pushes one of my thighs back until my knee touches my chest. He kisses he hungrily, feasting on me as he fucks me.
It’s rough, possessive, but there’s a gentle edge to every touch, kiss, and thrust.
I’m drowning in pleasure, moaning his name in answer to every bit of praise and possession he layers across my skin. I feel myself melting into him, falling deeper as I get closer and closer to my release.
“Cole!” I yell.
“I told you not to hold back. It doesn’t matter how many times you come. I won’t stop until we’re both spent,” he swears.
And when I come, he proves it, pulling out of me as my pussy pulses and quiver.
He rolls me over and guides me back until he fills me again.
My eyes roll back and I almost drop to my elbows, but he pulls me back against him, nearly mounting me as he rasps my name in my ear, keeps telling me how good I feel, how I belong to him, how I don’t need anyone else while pinching my nipples and kissing my throat.
His name is the only thing that leaves my lips until I come again and he pulls out, finishing on my ass. Then he pulls me against him and keeps holding me, stroking me, petting me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks gently, tipping my chin up. “Are you sore, cold, anything?”
I laugh softly and kiss his chin gently. “I’m okay, Cole. Better than okay. Amazing.”
He smiles, a boyish, warm smile. “Amazing, huh?”
I blush, then laugh. He chuckles and pulls me close, rubbing my back and nuzzling my hair. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Because of ...” I don’t really want to ask if it’s because we had sex, worried he’ll say yes.
“Because you’re wonderful for Liam and for me,” he says while molding me to his side, continuing to layer affection and attention on me with his words, his soft touches, and even more tender kisses. I’ve never felt so cherished, so happy, so sated in my life.