14. Cole #2
I don't plan what happens next. I simply grab her face, my heart hammering against my ribs with an urgency I haven't felt since?—
Hell, I've never felt this.
The playful mood between us evaporates. In its place, something electric fills the humid gap between our bodies. Her eyes lock with mine, pupils dilating in the low light. I watch her chest rise with a sudden intake of breath.
Neither of us speaks. We don't need to.
Sam falls into me, rising onto her toes. Her free hand finds the back of my neck, pulling me down to her. And then her lips are on mine.
Her teeth graze my lip, and I groan into her mouth.
"Bedroom," she pants against my neck.
"Too far."
I grip her hips, lift her like she weighs nothing. Her breath catches as her back hits the counter. Cold marble meets hot skin, and she jolts, laughing breathlessly before I steal the sound with my mouth.
“You always this impatient?” she asks, voice raspy, teasing.
“You've kept me waiting long enough. I need you now.”
My shirt hits the floor first, buttons half torn, half unfastened. Her hands move fast, like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she takes too long.
Her dress slides up her thighs, bunches at her waist. I pull back just long enough to look at her bare chest, flushed skin, pupils blown wide.
“Fuck, Sam…”
She leans in, lips brushing my ear. “Then do it.”
My belt comes undone under her fingers. The metal clinks sharply in the quiet.
My body answers before I can form a thought. My cock’s already hard, straining against the fabric that’s still between us.
I lower my mouth to her neck, finding that spot just under her jaw. She gasps, arches into me, and her thighs clamp tighter around my waist.
“You’re shaking,” she whispers, surprised.
“Yeah,” I murmur against her skin. “That’s what you do to me.”
Her nails bite into my shoulders, not soft, not delicate. She pulls me closer like she needs it deep in her bones.
I drag my mouth down her chest, tongue flicking across one nipple before sucking it into my mouth. Her moan hits the ceiling.
“Jesus, Cole…”
I want her wild. Want to be the reason she forgets every name but mine.
Her hands slide into my hair, tugging hard.
“Need you. Now.”
I fumble in the drawer beside the sink, find the foil packet I stashed there the other day. I tear it open with my teeth, roll it on with a groan that escapes before I can stop it.
She leans back on her elbows, watching me with hooded eyes, lips parted. “Show me. ”
I grab her thighs, pull her to the edge. One thrust and I’m buried inside her, tight heat surrounding me so fast it steals my breath.
Her head drops back, a low, guttural moan ripping out of her.
“God, yes. Just like that.”
I grip the edge of the counter with one hand for balance and fuck into her hard. Deep. Every time she gasps, it’s like gasoline on fire.
She pulls me in by the neck, forehead pressed to mine. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Same,” I groan. “Could stay like this forever.”
Her laugh breaks against my mouth, but it’s breathless, needy. “Shut up and move.”
I do.
God, I do.
“Cole,” she cries, and it intensifies every fiber in my body.
We don’t stop. We can’t, we are addicted to each other.
Her heels dig into my back, pulling me deeper, tighter, until we find a rhythm that feels less like movement and more like combustion.
The counter shakes beneath us as my knees hit the cabinet wall holding it up.
Her fingers claw at my shoulders, her moans caught between my mouth and her teeth.
She’s close. I feel it in the way her thighs start to tremble. In the way her breath stutters against my ear.
“I’m right there,” she gasps.
“Come for me, Sam. Fucking let go.”
She shatters. Her body bows, and her legs clamp around me. Her nails sink into my back as she cries out my name again. She's broken and beautiful.
She's mine .
The tension in my spine snaps.
I come hard, buried in her, pulse after pulse, heart pounding so loud I can barely hear her breath over mine.
We don’t speak. Instead, we let the silence settle in the aftermath.
Her forehead rests against mine, our skin slick, our chests rising and falling in time. Her hands soften against my shoulders as one drops to my cheek. The gentlest touch after so much hunger.
“I should move and give your ass a break from the marble,” I mutter, my voice still wrecked.
She laughs, low and warm. “Too late for that.”
Still, I ease out of her slowly, careful not to jar her. I find a paper towel nearby, clean us up as best I can, then scoop her into my arms.
“You don’t have to carry me,” she says, but she doesn’t resist.
“I want to.”
She rests her head on my shoulder, and I carry her through the dark house. The AC kicks on as we pass the hallway vent, cool air brushing over her flushed skin.
My bedroom is shadowed, the only light coming from the moon slanting through half-open blinds. I lower her onto the bed, gently, letting her sink into the sheets while I climb in beside her.
She stretches out, one arm over her head, dark hair spilling across my pillow. Her skin’s still glowing, lips kiss-bruised, eyes heavy-lidded but watching me.
I prop myself on an elbow and study her like I’m memorizing this. Because I am.
My fingers trail up her arm, over her shoulder, brushing a damp strand of hair back from her temple.
“You okay?”
Her gaze softens. “Yeah. You? ”
“Yeah.” My thumb traces her cheekbone. “You're amazing. Fuck, I can't quit you.”
She smiles, slow and satisfied. “Right back at you.”
I kiss her again, slower now. Less heat, more weight. Because this feels like more than just a night.
And we both know it.