Chapter 7 Anna
Anna
My phone vibrates in my clutch as I follow Cooper outside, ignoring the dramatic slow clap from Gemma and April. My eyes thin to slits as I pass them. Real mature, ladies.
Fishing my phone out, I see the notification banner from our group chat. I swipe my thumb across the screen to open the messages.
Gemma: Don’t be a fool. Wrap his tool.
April: YAYYYYYY!
The way they carry on, you’d think they’re in their bloody early twenties.
Cooper leads me out, orders an Uber, and sits patiently next to me the whole way home. His large hand rests on my exposed skin, his fingers feathering up my thigh, edging dangerously close to the lace of my thong before returning to my knee. Repeat.
It’s driving me so insane, I’m embarrassingly wet. It’s been so long since I’ve had sex that his touch alone threatens to unravel me.
I eye his crotch, making out the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. It’s big. That’ll do quite nicely. I hate to admit it, but Gemma was right. Maybe what I really need is a proper shag. It would appear I’m absolutely gagging for it.
The drive from Mayfair to Putney takes about twenty minutes. By the time the driver pulls up to the curb, I’m practically vibrating with anticipation.
Cooper doesn’t waste any time taking what he needs as soon as we cross the threshold of my flat. Pushing me up against the entryway wall, his mouth crashes onto mine. I fist his shirt in my hands, yanking it up over his head and tossing it aside.
Holy. Shit.
If he and his mates aren’t testing steroids, then their mothers must have shagged someone who was, because fit doesn’t even begin to describe this man.
A Celtic tattoo coils around his thick bicep, snaking up over his shoulder and spilling across the curve of his neck.
Dark hair dusts the solid wall of his chest, tapering down to a thin trail that disappears beneath those perfect V-shaped lines pointing south.
I hitch a leg around his hip, drawing him closer, whimpering as I grind myself against his hard cock.
“Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” He drops his head to the crook of my neck, and his teeth scrape against my throat as he peppers wet, open-mouthed kisses along my skin. I tip my head, threading my fingers through his hair, holding him in place.
God, I need him.
He eases the thin spaghetti straps of my dress down my arm, and the soft fabric of my dress hisses as it pools at my feet. I didn’t bother with a bra tonight, so aside from my thong, I’m fully exposed.
He sucks in a breath as he takes me in slowly, from head to toe. “Fuck, Anna.”
“Touch me,” I say, my voice strained.
He doesn’t waste any time as he closes the distance between us, pushing the soaked fabric of my thong aside and driving two thick fingers inside me. He hooks them, rubbing that perfect spot.
“So wet.” His voice is a growl.
My hands are clumsy on his belt, popping his button and dragging his zipper open. He shoves his trousers and briefs down with one hand, his cock springing free.
My eyes widen when I see it, standing proud and angry. I press my palm against his warm skin. “Hold the hell up.”
His brows crease.
“That thing is not fitting inside me.”
He catches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face up to his. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll break you in until you’re begging for more.”
My stomach flips.
I wrap my fingers around his girth, my thumb sweeping over his swollen crown, smearing a bead of pre-cum across his slit. He groans when I give him a tight, twisting pump from base to tip, learning the weight and way he likes it.
“Baby… keep that up and I’m not going to last,” he hisses.
I smile against his lips, swallowing the groan that rumbles from his chest as he plunders my mouth.
He alternates his movements, thrusting his fingers and rubbing laps around my clit, drawing out a low moan before pushing back inside my pussy.
“I want you inside me,” I breathe.
He pulls his hand away, lifting me with ease. “Bedroom.” It’s a command.
“There, second door on the right,” I say, pointing down the short hallway.
I wrap my legs around his waist, koala style, as he shuffles us to my bedroom, his trousers pushed down to his knees, setting me gently onto the mattress. I lie back, my hair fanning over the soft sheets, as he peels off my thong and stands to full height.
His eyes hood as he grabs his cock, pumping up and down his shaft.
“Cooper,” I whisper, intoxicated by the sight.
His voice is a low rumble. “What do you need, Anna?”
I hold his gaze and ease back further into the bed, spreading my legs and exposing my bare, wet pussy to him.
“Touch yourself,” he says.
My pulse hammers. Heat floods between my legs as my fingers drift to my core, drawing slow, tight circles around the bundle of nerves. My other hand dips lower, two fingers pushing inside, working myself the way I know drives me crazy.
“Like this?” My voice comes out breathy.
“Just like that,” he says, his eyes locked on my center.
I can’t believe how brazen I’m being, but I can’t stop. It’s like something inside me has snapped and every filthy thought and fantasy I’ve caged for the last nine months comes spilling out all at once.
He strips off his trousers, the mattress dipping under his weight as he prowls forward to settle between my thighs.
The expression in his eyes is pure, filthy hunger. “It’s my turn, baby,” he says, gently moving my hands away.
I clutch the sheets as he spreads me open with both hands. “Your cunt is perfect.”
My skin prickles with heat and then his mouth is on me. The first stroke of his tongue steals the breath from my lungs. My back bows off the bed, hands white-knuckling the sheets as he licks a firm line from my entrance to my clit.
He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, coaxing every whimper and moan from me with each pass of his tongue, like he’s savoring me.
Mason never ate me out like this.
Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside me as he feasts, stretching me, scissoring his fingers. “Christ,” he growls, dragging his mouth in messy circles over my clit. “You’re so tight.”
My hips tilt as I grind against his face, aching for more. The faint vibration of his breath against my skin sends warmth spiraling through me.
“Oh my God, Cooper!”
I clutch at his hair when he adds a third finger. I’m so incredibly full. My head tips back and a raw moan rips from my throat at the intrusion.
His fingers and mouth work relentlessly, rubbing, sucking, biting, circling and pumping.
My thighs begin to tremble.
“Come on my face, Anna.”
The command shatters me. I gasp and cry his name as pleasure tears through me.
My pussy convulses around his fingers, as if I’m trying to hold him there forever.
He doesn’t let up, sucking and stroking me through my orgasm, drawing every last pulse and quake from my body until I’m spent, shuddering beneath him.
“Cooper,” I gasp.
He lifts his head, his face glistening from my release. His eyes are dark and dangerous. “Condom?” he asks.
“Top drawer,” I reply, nodding toward my bedside table where Gemma stashed a box, just in case.
He reaches over, plucks one out and tears it open with his teeth. Kneeling, he rolls it down his length slowly. Dropping to his elbows either side of my head, he brackets me in. Notching my entrance, his eyes lock on to mine. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice strained.
Good God. He’s going to ruin me for all other men.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding frantically.
He presses into me and I gasp as he groans.
“Fuuuuuck,” he says. He’s so thick he has to gently ease himself in and out until I’m able to take more. He dips his head, his lips brushing my ear. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
I’m so wound up on wanting him I could cry.
My body’s begging for him. So once he’s fully coated in my juices, he doesn’t bother with a warning before slamming to the hilt in one brutal thrust. My hands fly to his shoulders as he starts pounding into me, each stroke stoking the fire building low in my core.
He lowers his head to kiss me. It’s savage, our tongues colliding in the same punishing rhythm as his hips.
When he finally releases my lips, his breath is rough. “Hold on, baby.”
Rising to his knees, his big hands clamp around my thighs, lifting my lower half off the mattress to angle my pelvis. His next thrust drives impossibly deep. The headboard of my bed smashes against my bedroom wall as he ruts hard and fast.
I’m certain the whole building can hear us, but I don’t care. I’m too drunk on him.
“Look at me,” he says, and when I do, that dark, blue stare leaves me starved for air. His pace doesn’t falter, growing more ruthless and erratic. His thumb finds my core and begins strumming it. I writhe and squirm, spiraling into euphoria.
“I’m close,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Yeah?” he asks, rubbing and fucking me faster. “You gonna come for me, Anna?”
My body answers for me—pussy clenching around his cock, greedily pulling him deeper.
“Fuck!” he grunts.
A ragged cry tears from my throat, my head tipping back as my release crashes over me. His jaw clenches, a rough sound breaking from his chest as his dick swells and pulses inside me.
His hold tightens as his movements ease, coaxing us both slowly through our orgasms. In an unexpected show of tenderness, his arms sweep underneath me and, in one swift motion, he lifts me and rolls onto his back. I end up sprawled over his chest, still joined as his cock softens.
“I needed that, thank you,” I say, my cheek resting against his solid wall of muscle.
He presses a slow kiss to my forehead. When he speaks, there’s true sincerity in his voice. “You’re an incredible woman, Anna.”
The steady sound of his heart against my cheek lulls me and a whisper of a smile touches my lips. My eyes fall shut of their own accord, and when I wake up the next morning, the truth of what we just did hammers in the hollowness of my chest.
Because he’s gone.