16. Aurora #2
Every thrust knocks the air out of me, his piercing hitting deep enough to send my vision swimming for a second. I try to stay quiet, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but my body keeps betraying me, my breath catching when he drives back in.
His hand slides up my spine and closes around the back of my neck, holding me steady as he thrusts again, harder this time, like he’s determined to carve the memory of this into my bones.
Then his grip shifts, moving to the front of my throat, squeezing lightly as he fucks me, testing exactly what I’ll let him get away with.
I gasp at the bolt of heat that tears through me, and when his grip eases, it pisses me off.
“Don’t be a pussy, Reaper. Choke me.”
A low curse slips out of him, and his hand tightens again, giving me exactly what I asked for as he thrusts harder into me. Heat floods through me so fast I swear I see stars, my body locking up around him hard enough to pull a groan from his throat.
“So fucking desperate to be fucked,” he says against my ear, his voice rumbly and ragged.
I open my mouth, ready to tell him exactly where he can shove his ego, when footsteps crunch somewhere beyond the hedge.
I go still.
The heat humming low in my body drifts as voices come from the patio, close enough that if anyone takes even a few steps too far, they’ll find us.
His hand grips my ass as he thrusts deeper, and I know he’s not planning on stopping.
I feel his mouth curve against my neck. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs. “Suddenly shy?”
“If they see—” The words barely leave me before he cuts me off with another hard thrust.
“Then don’t make a sound,” he says, his voice breaking as he keeps moving inside me. “Unless you want them to hear you getting fucked.”
The voices get louder, drifting closer, and that sharp burst of panic settles in my chest. I bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep quiet, but the thought of someone finding us—finding me like this—makes a low moan leave my lips and my pussy clenches around him.
He drops his mouth to my ear, his breath warm against my skin while mine goes completely ragged. “What would you do,” he whispers, “if they came around that corner right now and saw you taking my cock?”
Oh god.
“Would you stop?” he asks, his breath sliding over my neck. “Or would you keep letting me fuck you while they watched?”
A helpless shiver runs through me.
A dark little laugh leaves him, full of pure satisfaction. “Jesus,” he mutters, gripping my ass in his hand. “You like that idea way too much.”
He yanks my hips back, bending me a little more, his cock nudging deeper at this angle. I barely get a breath in before his palm comes down hard, spanking me. I let out a loud moan, which he groans at, smoothing the sting with his palm a second later.
Every drag of his cock feels punishing, like he’s trying to fuck the memory out of both of us.
I wish he could.
I wish this could be enough to burn it all out, so when it’s over, I can finally be done with him.
Because this shit is dangerous. Letting him touch me like this. Letting him take control of my body.
It can’t happen again.
I moan before I can stop it, my fingers clawing at the tree for something to hold on to. His hands fly to mine, pinning them flat against the bark, one on each side of my head, caging me there as he drives into me.
“Fuck, look at you,” he grinds out, his breath hot against my ear. “You think any of those guys inside could handle you?” His hips slam flush to my ass as he pushes every inch of himself into me. “You’d chew them up before they could even get hard.”
He laces his fingers with mine, forcing my hands harder against the tree, pinning me in place. “You need someone who will bend you over and fuck the attitude out of you. You need me.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip so hard I taste blood, my eyes dropping to the rough bark inches from my face. I feel a wave of shame as my body clenches around him, the pleasure curling around me, settling deep inside me.
“I don’t need you,” I grit out, squeezing my eyes closed when his piercing hits that spot inside me again. “And I definitely don’t want you.”
He lets go of my hands and slides one palm up my chest, hauling me upright against him. My back hits solid muscle, his heat swallowing me up, his breath sliding along the side of my face as he turns my head until I feel his breath hit my lips.
“Good,” he breathes, his dark eyes locked on mine. “Because I don’t want you either. I just want you to take my cock,” he rasps, fucking into me harder, sending sparks down my spine. “Then we can both forget this ever happened.”
His finger finds my clit and my entire body clamps down around him so hard he lets out a groan that sounds like it’s ripped straight from his spine.
I freeze when I hear noise again: some laughter and the sound of feet on the concrete making me stiffen. But Cole doesn’t seem to give a shit. He keeps fucking me, rubbing my clit until my breath stutters and heat floods my limbs.
I don’t seem to care, either, because I grind my ass against him, wanting him deeper, feeling my orgasm so close I can practically taste it.
I drop my head, my nails scraping helplessly at the bark as the pleasure climbs too fast to control.
“Cole—” I breathe out.
“Come,” he orders, rubbing faster circles on my clit. “Now.”
I don’t want him to tell me what to do. I try to hold on, to force myself not to give him the satisfaction, but one second, I’m hanging on to the tree, and the next, my body just…
gives. The orgasm slams into me so hard and so fast it steals my breath, my balance, and every ounce of control I pretended I still had.
A choked cry rips from my throat before I can swallow it down, and Cole’s hand is over my mouth the second it comes out, muffling every noise I make as my body clenches around him. I hate that for a few brutal seconds, I can’t think about anything except how good it feels.
His fingers dig into my hips and pull me back against him, holding me there as he drives into me one last time, hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. His breathing turns ragged against my skin, a low groan breaking out of him as he buries himself deep and spills inside me.
The sounds he makes are rough and angry, like he hates this as much as I do even while he gives in to it. His forehead drops against my back, and his fingers tighten once at my waist before slowly easing as he comes down from his orgasm.
We stay like that for a second longer than we should. A second that feels like danger. But then I hear footsteps once again, and whatever haze I was in disappears.
“Shit,” I whisper, shoving him off me.
He pulls back with a sharp exhale, my body twitching when I feel him slip out of me, and I yank my dress down in a rush, dragging the hem over my thighs with fumbling hands.
Cole takes a couple of steps back, his breathing still fast and his jaw clenched tight enough for the muscle to jump beneath the skull paint. He tucks himself back into his jeans and then drags a hand through his hair, trying to scrub the last few minutes off his skin.
I swallow, trying to steady myself, and watch as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it without even looking at me, dragging in a long inhale.
When he finally exhales, his eyes land on mine, and my whole body tightens at the reminder of what I just let him do.
“You should go inside,” he says, smoke slipping from the corner of his mouth.
His gaze drops to my mouth, then down my neck, stopping at the mark on my shoulder where his teeth sank in.
“Might want to fix yourself first, though,” he adds, flicking ash to the ground. “You look like you just got fucked.”
His words slide all the way down my spine. Heat climbs up my throat, into my cheeks, settling everywhere I don’t want it, and I hate that he can probably see every second of it.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Reaper.” I narrow my eyes. “I’m not some girl drooling over you. You’re the one who followed me out here. You’re the one who begged for me.” I shrug. “I just gave you a pity fuck.”
His jaw flexes and his eyes somehow turn darker, colder. The way he looks at me strips every last bit of heat from my skin.
“This doesn’t happen again.”
He drops the cigarette, crushes it out under his boot, and turns his back on me without another word, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he heads for the house.
I stay there, breathing hard, my pulse still all over the place, staring after him and trying to force my body to catch up with what just came out of his mouth.
Good.
It should be easy to hate him after that.
It should be easy to let this be the end.
I need to be done with Cole Ellis.
For good.