12. Cole
twelve
Cole
I end the camera, halting the recording, aware that I'll revisit it later—when life returns to its usual rhythm, and Noelle and I resume our roles as stepmother and stepson. I slip my phone into my back pocket and take a few quiet steps toward Noelle, my gaze tracing the vibrant patterns of butterflies of various sizes that adorn her spine.
With a subtle nod, I signal River to step out, craving a moment alone with Noelle, even though I’ve already had my turn. No matter how hard I try or how much I convince myself I should resist, I just can't fucking leave her alone—my desire for her is overwhelming.
"Get back on the edge of the tub," River snaps, forcefully pushing her off his lap as he rises from the hot tub.
She says nothing, obediently doing as she's told, a shiver running through her as her wet skin meets the chilly air. River grabs a towel from the table, wrapping it around himself before striding to the door, not bothering to glance back at us.
Unnoticed, I retrieve my phone again, propping it up on the railing and angling it just right for what I'm about to do. I creep up behind her, my hand gently wrapping around her throat while my other hand cups her full breast, causing her to gasp softly.
"Who's there?" She asks, turning her head from side to side, oblivious to her surroundings in the blindfold.
"It's me, Little Freak," I whisper, my voice a mixture of surprise and assurance, as though she’s relaxing into the moment, allowing her defenses to drop.
And yet, she really fucking shouldn’t.
"I wasn't expecting you," she breathes heavily, her body seemingly relaxing against mine as my touch on her skin sets her—and me—on fire.
"I had to see you again. I had to have another moment alone with you before... just nevermind," I grunt, pulling her hair away from her neck and sniffing in greedily, embedding her scent into my nose like a fucking weirdo.
My eyes flick to the lights strung around the banister, and an idea suddenly pops into my head. Carefully undoing a short string, I begin looping them around her neck, letting the warm bulbs graze her cold skin, slightly warming her up. Undoing the cuffs around her wrists, I pull her hands behind her back and take the rest of the string of lights, wrapping the remainder around her hands so her neck and wrists are connected. She's not going anywhere. And christ, she looks fucking gorgeous lit up this way.
Spinning her around, as she goes to part her mouth to speak, I snatch her lips in a frenzy, kissing her like I just can't get enough... because I fucking can't. Every pulse of our hearts seems to sync as I consume her mouth, each kiss igniting a fire deep within me. Noelle gasps against my lips, the surprise evident as she melts into my hold. The twinkling lights illuminate her face, casting an illuminated glow that amplifies her beauty. I want to drown in this moment—to lose myself in her until the rest of the world fades away.
My hands explore her curves, tracing the contours of her body as the softness of her skin sparks against my touch, teasing my senses. I can feel her breath hitch as I press her against the cool surface of the banister, the resonance of her heartbeat quickening under my touch.
I finally pull away, just enough to look at her face, searching for any hint of doubt or fear.
"Are you okay?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire.
"Yes," she replies breathlessly, her cheeks flushed with a warm hue that makes me want to kiss her all over again. "I just wasn't expecting this... or you."
I chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the distant splashes and murmurs from River's retreating figure. "I know you weren't, but sometimes the best moments come when we least expect them."
She gives me a small smile, one that tugs at my very core, and I feel something deeper than lust stir within me. It's a strange mix of affection and urgency, an overwhelming need to protect her—and possess her at the same time. A rush of confusing feelings about whether or not I should hate this woman or love her like I have been.
"You're fucking stunning like this, you know," I say, letting my fingers dance across her skin, lingering at the edges of the lights. "These lights... they make you look like a fucking goddess... an icy goddess," I slip in the last part, wondering if she's made the connection on who I am yet.
But her silence tells me she still has no fucking idea that she's been fucking her stepson and his teammates.
The flush deepens on her cheeks, and I see the conflict twist across her lips. She's drawn to me, I can tell, but there's still a thread of hesitation that lingers—a choice yet to be made.
"Q, we shouldn't—" she begins, but I cut her off.
"Don't think about what we should or shouldn't do. Just feel." My fingers graze her jawline before I lean in, capturing her lips once more.
This kiss is softer, more deliberate, a dance rather than a frenzy. I want to show her the sweetness in surrender, the thrill of giving in to desires unspoken. As we pull apart, the vibrant lights sparkling around us, I notice her breath is still heavy, and for a fleeting moment, I allow myself to believe that she wants this, too—wants me.
"Let’s just stay like this for a little while longer," I murmur, my forehead resting against hers. "No expectations, no outside world. Just you and me."
She nods ever so slightly, and in that small gesture, I see the flicker of alignment in our desires. For now, we can be lost in this stolen moment, away from prying eyes and the complications that everyday life demands.
And as the night continues to unfold, I know we're treading on a precipice—balancing between the thrill of the forbidden and the reality that will inevitably crash back down on us. But in the flickering glow, with Noelle wrapped in a dance of lights and shadows, the world feels infinitely more manageable. Even if she has no idea who we are... it's better this way.
"I'm gonna fuck this wet cunt and fill you with my cum, Noelle. Is that what you want?" I ask desperately, trying to quickly undo my pants.
She nods. "Yes, Q. Fuck me so hard that it takes all the pain away that's still consuming every part of my insides," she whispers, and her words touch my soul in more ways than one.
Right here, as vulnerable as can be, my stepmother just let me in without even knowing it. I didn't know she felt so broken, so lost. I thought my father's death didn't bother her, that she might have had something to do with it, so I've tortured her for fucking years because of it.
"Tell me what pain you have, Little Freak," I urge her, tugging on the string of lights to pull her onto the porch steps as I bend down, taking my place behind her.
I rub her ass, getting a moan out of her as she arches her back, her chest pressing into the edge of the snowy step. But the cold air or the painful wood doesn't seem to phase her, which gets me going even more.
"I miss my husband," she blurts out, her voice quivering as she tries her best to hold in her sobs, wanting to get the pain from the last few years off her chest.
I grit my teeth and take a few deep, quiet breaths, wanting to regain my facade before I lose it and flip out on her like I've done in the past. I hate talking about my father and his murder, mainly because I still haven't found a way to deal with it, but to be honest, I haven't tried much to deal with it. I found that if I push all the hurt and suffering down as far as I can, I won't ever have to think about it.
But it's impossible not to.
"Tell me about him," I ask softly, tracing a slow line along her spine with the tip of my tongue, making her shiver.
She sighs heavily, dropping her head from both the form of questioning and the feeling of my warm lips gliding along her tender flesh. And of course, I tighten my grip on the string and gently tug her trembling body back until she's kneeling on the snowy step, and I'm snug like a puzzle piece between her bent legs.
"Do I have to talk to you like a fucking asshole in order for you to answer me?" I growl, feeling the animal within me clawing its way to the surface. "Do I have to degrade you, slut?"
"Nicholas was the love of my life, and the night I lost him, I lost everything that mattered to me. I lost the will to go on," she whispers, lowering her head again. "If it weren't for his son, I would have given up long ago."
I'm intrigued, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth as I continue to caress her silky skin, her form pressing intimately against me.
"What do you mean?" I ask, eager to hear more.
"I had to be a mother to him. Even when I felt like I was dying inside, I knew I had to care for Cole. He lost his father, and I realized he would face a tougher path than I ever would. He doesn’t know it, but he saved my life—even if he hates me to this day."
I slide my hand over the gentle curve of her hips, giving the string of lights a soft tug that elicits a moan from her parted, trembling lips. "I'm sure he doesn’t hate you," I counter softly, wishing I could reveal the truth right then and there.
Yet, the pact I made with the guys weighs heavily on me. We promised never to share our secrets beyond our circle; I can’t betray that oath.
"No, he hates me. He makes sure I feel it," she sighs, pressing back against me with a mixture of desperation and longing.
And before I know it, I'm sliding into her until my pelvis is firmly pressed against her ass. I wrap her hair around my hand and tug on it as I slowly begin to move inside her, giving her what she wants—what we both want.
Her breath catches, a mix of pleasure and pain swirling in the air between us. I can feel the tension in her body, both from the physical connection we share and the emotional weight of her words. Each thrust feels like a dance—a delicate balance of desire and the unspoken sorrow that lingers in the shadows of her heart.
“Tell me more about him,” I murmur, urging her to forget the bitterness. “What was Nicholas like?”
She pauses, as if torn between pleasure and pain, and I can feel her heartbeat quickening against my chest. “He was... everything,” she breathes out, her words coming in hushed bursts. “He could light up a room with just his smile. The kind of guy who could get anyone to laugh, even on their worst days. He loved fiercely and taught me what it meant to truly love someone.”
I pull her hair a little tighter, lost in the rhythm of our bodies. “And Cole? He takes after his father, doesn’t he?”
She nods, her cheeks brimming with an echo of the warmth she lost. “In many ways, yes. He has that wild spirit. But there’s darkness in him too—he’s been so angry since the incident. He lost his father, and I know he blames me for it.” Her voice cracks, pain spilling over. “It kills me that he sees me as the enemy, instead of the person who’s trying to hold everything together.”
Each thrust brings her closer to the edge of desire, and I can feel her pussy adjusting around my cock, welcoming yet resisting.
“You’re doing your best,” I say, trying to pull her focus away from the past. “You’re being the mother he needs, even if he can’t see it right now.”
The sound of her breath catches in her throat again, but this time it shifts into a sharper gasp as I deepen my thrusts, giving her every inch of my cock.
"Oh, God,” she moans, losing herself in the moment, shedding the layers of grief and regret.
“Let it go, just for tonight,” I whisper, guiding her into a place where sorrow fades and primal need takes over.
I feel her muscles tighten around me as she loses herself completely—every worry, every ounce of guilt washed away in the tide of sensation between us. As the world outside disappears—no Nicholas, no animosity from me—I hold her against me, grounding her while she surrenders to the chaos of emotions. With her soft, warm body moving against mine, I feel a surge of possessive tenderness welling up in my chest.
I know I can help her heal. Not all wounds are visible; sometimes, it’s the ones buried deep within that need the most care. And with the stars above watching over us like silent witnesses, I vow to be there for her, however long it takes, even if it means doing so from a distance, in the shadows like I've been doing all along.