Chapter Seventeen Sloane
T his is madness.
Everything about this is chaotic and reckless. And I want more.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes against my skin. It’s not a request—it’s a dare.
His hands slide down to my thighs, lifting me onto the workbench. Tools topple. The handcuffs at my wrists catch the light as my head falls back, his mouth trailing fire down my neck.
It should feel too fast. Too dangerous.
Instead, it feels inevitable.
I wrap my legs around him, drawing him closer. “Is that what you want? For me to stop you?”
His laugh rumbles low against my throat. “What I want...” His teeth graze my collarbone. “Is to take you right here, surrounded by your sketches and scattered gems. To watch you come apart on this table where you create.”
My body answers before I can think. But it’s not mindless lust. It’s a choice.
A surrender.
Heat pools low in my stomach. But through the haze of desire, a voice in my head reminds me that this solves nothing. The secrets are still there.
I press my bound hands against his chest, creating just enough space to think. “Cole.”
My next protest dies in my throat as his mouth finds that spot beneath my ear.
I should ask questions. I should demand answers.
But I don’t. I tilt into him instead, chasing the only certainty I have right now: him.
God, I want this man to fuck me.
My fingers continue to curl into his shirt, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Cole’s lips curve against my skin, sensing my hesitation.
“Say it,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
I swallow hard, fighting to find my voice. “I... I can’t.”
His hand slides up my thigh, fingers teasing the hem of my dress. “Then don’t fight it.”
My resolve crumbles. With a low moan, I capture his mouth with mine, kissing him deeply. Cole responds instantly, pressing me back against the workbench. The remaining pliers and metal sheets crash as they hit the floor, but neither of us notices.
His hands are everywhere, setting my skin ablaze. I want to unbutton his shirt, but the handcuffs make it difficult. I fumble with the buttons, my restricted movements clumsy. Cole growls low in his throat as he sees my struggle, reaching up to capture my bound wrists with one hand.
“Let me,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand while keeping my wrists pinned above my head.
Cole hitches my dress up around my waist. His fingers brush against my inner thigh, teasing, testing. I arch into his touch, silently begging for more.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “Say the words.”
I swallow hard, trying to find the courage to voice my desires. “I want you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I want all of you.”
Cole growls in response, his grip on me tightening as he captures my mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue delves deep, exploring every inch of my mouth as if he can’t get enough of me. I respond in kind, meeting his passion with my own and giving myself over to the moment completely.
I want it dark. I want it dangerous. I want his hand to squeeze around my neck until I can barely inhale... wait... what the fuck? Why am I even... but I want. I do.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for. I don’t know how to voice exactly what I want. But I do know one thing. I know that I want more of him.
Cole’s response is immediate and fierce. His mouth crashes down on mine once again, his hands continuing to roam my body, gripping my hips and pulling me even closer against him. The chain between the handcuffs presses against his chest, the metal warming between our bodies.
Cole’s hands slide down to my thighs, and in one swift motion he lifts me up, pinning me against the wall. I loop my bound arms around his neck, the chain pressing against his nape. I then wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, gasping at the friction this new position creates.
His lips find mine again, the kiss deep and demanding. I match his intensity, pouring all my pent-up longing into the kiss. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. I want to drown in this moment, in him.
“I don’t fuck easy. I don’t fuck sweet.”
“I don’t want easy,” I breathe against his lips. “And I don’t need sweet.”
He rewards me with another kiss, his tongue battling with mine for dominance. I surrender willingly, melting into him.
I can tell this man likes to hurt but in the best way possible.
Cole’s hands move to the hem of my dress, slowly inching it upward.
“This needs to go,” he growls, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull the garment over my head.
He has to work around the handcuffed wrists, briefly opening one, threading the fabric through the chain before yanking my panties down.
Oh. My. God. I’m. Naked.
The cool air hits my bare skin, and instead of cowering or trying to cover myself, I embrace it. But then his hands are on me again, hot and demanding, and I forget about everything else. He cups my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I moan at the sensation.
His mouth replaces his hands, tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers pinch and tease the other. I cry out, my back arching off the wall.
Cole spreads his jacket across the floor beside the jewelry display and lowers me onto it with surprising gentleness. But there’s nothing gentle about the way he looks at me. His eyes are dark with desire, hungry and predatory.
Cole stands over me. “Spread your legs, baby. I want to see that pussy on display.”
I hesitate for a moment, a flicker of self-consciousness passing through me. But the way Cole is looking at me—like he wants to devour me whole—banishes any lingering doubts. Slowly, I part my legs, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze.
He finishes removing his shirt, revealing a toned chest and abs that... fuck me... I knew the man would be good-looking. But Jesus Christ this is taking it to a completely new level.
Cole’s eyes rake over my body, his gaze so intense I can almost feel it like a physical touch. He reaches out, tracing a finger along the inside of my thigh, inching closer to my pussy. “Wider.”
I obey, spreading my legs further apart and exposing myself to him completely.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “I can’t wait to feel my cock buried inside of you.”
“I’m on the pill,” I somehow say as he kneels between my legs.
He gives me a wicked smile as he aligns his body with mine, the heat from his hard cock pressing against my wetness. “I know.”
His thumb circles my clit slowly as he pushes inside me all at once—no gentle stretching, no gradual accommodation. The burn makes me scream into his shoulder as my cuffed hands clutch at his back, unable to find purchase.
“Let’s spread this tight pussy of yours,” he rasps against my neck while I tremble beneath him.
I don’t know why I’m slightly stunned by the dirty talk coming from Cole, but it only makes me clench around him harder.
His groan vibrates against my collarbone as he withdraws almost completely before slamming back in with brutal precision.
“That’s it—squeeze me just like that while I ruin you. ”
The rhythm of his thrusts builds, sharp and punishing, flesh meeting flesh in relentless tempo.
He licks a stripe up my throat before biting down at the center of my chest, the pressure threatening to blur my vision.
My hips rise desperately to meet his punishing rhythm, each snap of his pelvis wringing another broken sound from my lips.
“Look at me.” His command slices through the haze when I obey; his gaze holds me more trapped than any chain. There’s no softness there, only feral possession. “You take this cock like you were made for it.”
I am. I am. The thought loops wildly as he drags a hand between us, fingertips finding my clit again and rubbing tight circles that fray my sanity.
Pleasure coils like live wire beneath my skin, every nerve alight— until suddenly his thumb stills, denying release as he slows his thrusts to a torturous grind.
“Cole—”
“Beg.” A wicked smile as he watches tears of frustration prick my eyes. “Or don’t you want it bad enough?”
The words unravel me faster than any touch could. But not quite enough. I want to come. I need to come.
I arch beneath him, choking out something between a plea and a curse, my bound hands straining against his grip.
“Please.” The word cracks open something feral in him. His hips snap forward with renewed force as his thumb resumes its relentless pressure.
“What do you want?” he demands, voice ragged yet controlled.
“Y-you,” I stammer, my head falling back as he angles deeper, hitting a place that makes my toes curl. “Need—”
“Need what?” He punctuates each syllable with a thrust so brutal I cry out.
“To come!”
The demand explodes between us like lightning. The pressure unspools and then I’m gone, lost in a pleasure so sharp and bright it feels like breaking.
But Cole doesn’t stop.
He slows only to drag his fingers lower, gathering my slick and pressing teasing circles against the tight ring of muscle just below. I freeze. My breath catches.
“Relax,” he growls, his voice low and full of heat. “Let me in.”
His finger presses gently until it breaches me, slow and steady. I gasp at the stretch, the unfamiliar intrusion shocking and electric.
“You’re mine,” he says again, his words threading through the haze of overstimulation. “Mine to claim. Mine to punish. And if you ever try to run out on me again, it won’t be just my finger in your ass.”
A sound escapes me—half moan, half whimper—as he begins to move, his cock still thrusting while his finger matches the rhythm. The combination is too much. Perfect. Exquisite.
I shouldn’t like this. But fuck me—I do.
His other hand finds my clit and I’m spiraling again, wrecked and wrecking as he coaxes every last tremble from my body.
When I come this time, I shatter. Completely.
Cole groans into my neck and follows me over the edge, hips jerking, cock twitching deep inside me as he spills with a broken curse.
We collapse in a tangled, breathless heap on the floor. Raw. Spent. And I know I’ll never be the same.