Chapter 45 Eva
EVA
“What the fuck, Cole?” I exploded.
He looked up at me, his eyes hooded and unreadable. “It’s the only way.”
“Bullshit.” My throat closed around the word, my chest so tight, I could barely breathe. “You don’t get to make this decision in my name. I didn’t ask you to—” My voice cracked. “I’ve never asked you to give up anything.”
“You didn’t have to ask.” He turned back to packing his clothes. “You think I’m doing this for you? Don’t flatter yourself, sparrow. You’ve made your feelings about me perfectly fucking clear.”
He’d quit the team. He’d quit the team and he was moving out of the hockey house. Just when it felt like we were starting to get our shit together again, he was leaving me.
“Stop,” I rasped and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look up at me.
My hurt must have shown in my expression, because he dropped the shirt he was folding and dragged me into his arms.
“You don’t have to do this,” I murmured, even though I knew he had even fewer choices than I did.
“I want to,” he said fiercely.
“You want to give up the only thing you’ve ever wanted?”
Cole snorted and pressed his cheek against the top of my head. “You know what I want more than playing in the NHL? For you to be safe.”
“Don’t.” I shoved at his chest. “Don’t you dare make me responsible for this. You love hockey. You need it.”
“Not as much as I need you alive.” He dragged me down to the bed, forcing me to straddle his lap.
“This is a choice I’m making for me, and he can’t touch it.
We have to remove his leverage over us, and this is the only way to do it, just like Alek had to quit.
We have to take away my father’s power, or he’ll destroy everyone I—” He cut himself off, jaw working.
“Everyone you what, Cole?” I wanted to hear those words so badly.
“Everyone it’ll hurt to lose.”
I pushed a strand of blond hair out of his face, revealing eyes that were too clear, too certain. “Stop lying to me.”
“I’m good at it, aren’t I?”
“Cole—”
“You want the truth? Fine. I’m fucking terrified. I’m terrified of what he’ll do to you, and what he’ll make me do. I’d rather rip out my own heart than let him use me to hurt you again.”
“I hate this.”
“I know.” His hand slid up my thigh, possessive and cruel, exactly how I liked it. “Hate it all you want, sparrow. I’m still gonna make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.”
“Fuck you.” But I was already leaning in, pressing my mouth to his, like somehow, I could stop him from leaving if I kissed him hard enough.
Cole surged up to meet me, his kiss bruising and desperate, saying all the things he couldn’t say out loud. He bit my lower lip until I gasped then stroked his tongue into my mouth, claiming it.
“Fuck, sparrow,” he moaned into my mouth, his hands clutching at my back and my hip, tugging me close, as if he wanted to crawl inside my skin. Too fucking late—he was already there. “I can’t do meaningless today. I know you want—”
“I love you,” I said softly.
His entire body tensed. His eyes jerked to mine, wide and nervous and scared. “Eva—”
“I love you, but I can’t trust you,” I continued, a tear dripping down my cheek.
He opened his mouth, and I pressed a finger against his lips.
“Don’t,” I breathed. “Don’t say something you’ll regret tomorrow, when you break my heart again.”
Cole held my eyes for too fucking long then nodded. “Give me tonight, then,” he rasped against my finger, instead of promising me he’d never hurt me again.
When I didn’t say anything, he caught my hands and brought them together behind my head, snagging something, I couldn’t even tell what, so he could tie them together.
“Gonna mark you up,” he muttered against my throat. “Gonna make sure every time you look in the mirror, you see proof that you’re mine.”
Cole lifted me, and I squeaked with surprise, momentarily panicked, before relaxing into his hold on my hips. “I’ve got you, princess. I promise.”
He laid me out on the bed with my hands still bound, resting above my head on the wooden bed frame. “Comfortable?”
I tested the bonds, felt the bite of fabric against my wrists. I shrugged. “Could be more comfortable.”
His incredulous laugh lodged in my chest like warm honey.
“Yeah?” He knelt between my legs and carefully worked my sweater up and over my chest until it was another tool to bind my hands together.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamned perfect,” he murmured as he reached behind me to unhook my bra, pushing it above my head.
He leaned back on his heels, his gaze dragging over me with an intensity that took my breath away. One finger traced up from my waistband to my surgical scar, following the T-shape with reverence before sliding down to circle my nipple, watching it peak under his touch.
“Cole,” I protested, but it came out breathless and needy.
He pinched my nipple, twisting just enough to make me arch my back. “My perfect little masochist, getting wet for me because I’m hurting you, as I ruin my life for you.” His smirk was diabolical. “You love it when it hurts.”
The shame of it burned through me. “I didn’t ask—”
“You didn’t.” He slapped my breast hard enough to make me gasp.
“You never would. Never. And that’s why you’re worth giving up everything for, sparrow.
” He ran his hands up my sides then slapped the same breast he’d teased, and the sharp pain transformed to the heat of pleasure.
“You never ask for help. You give and you give, and the whole fucking world takes from you, and still, you find more strength to give. You’re so fucking smart, so fucking loyal, and you should tell us all to go fuck ourselves and never look back, but you never do. ”
“Cole,” I choked, throat tight with emotion. His hands found the button on my jeans and opened them before sliding them over my hips, leaving me in only my socks and panties, spread out beneath him and completely at his mercy.
Cole stood over me, smiling softly. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. One of these days, we’re going to have time for me to kiss every single one of your freckles, and I can’t fucking wait.”
The image took my breath away—the thought of him taking his time with me, of us having a future when time wasn’t always running out.
“Like that, do you?” His voice was rough with satisfaction.
He placed his hands on his covers between my legs and lowered himself to gently kiss my panties. My hips twitched. I wanted a hell of a lot more than a soft kiss. I needed him to devour me, to wreck me, to make me forget he was leaving me.
He chuckled then inhaled deeply, his nose pressed against the fabric. My cheeks stained red with embarrassment. “Cole.”
“Shut up,” he said, biting the inside of my thigh hard enough to leave a mark then soothing the ache with his tongue. “I love how fucking soft you are,” he said against my skin. “Love how you melt for a little bit of praise but how a little bit of degradation turns you into a feral slut for me.”
“Cole!”
His eyes met mine, full of merriment and sadness, and—
“I want to touch you,” I pleaded quietly. “Please.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment, his jaw working like he was fighting for control. When he opened his eyes again, they were glassy. “I’m so fucking wrecked for you, you know that?”
“Please, Cole.” My heart ached for him, and all I wanted was to take him in my arms, to hold him against me, as if him moving out of this house I didn’t even live in was the end for us.
He peeled my panties down my legs with aching gentleness, taking my fuzzy socks with them, then attacked the mess he’d left at my wrists, with my layers and my bra and one of his socks, it turned out.
The moment I was free, I wrapped my arms around him, dragging his lips to mine once again, like I could make him stay if I kissed him hard enough. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
I unbuttoned his shirt, keeping my body plastered to his as much as I was able, never releasing his lips from our kiss. I needed him so fucking badly.
“Eva,” he groaned when I scraped my nails down his bare chest, leaving red lines in my wake.
I slid his shirt off, revealing the golden skin and thick muscles I loved to touch. Next, I tackled his belt but lost it when he tugged my head back with my hair so he could scrape his teeth along my collarbone.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said as he sucked on my skin hard enough to leave a mark. He worked his way across my chest, making sure to leave them on my neck, under my jaw, fucking everywhere.
I moaned and shifted under him, wanting more contact, rubbing my bare pussy against the hard cock that pressed between my legs through his pants, hating the layers between us.
“Such a needy slut,” he murmured, working his way down my chest, kissing every inch of my T-shaped scar with devastating tenderness before bending to take a hard nipple between his lips.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Cole, I need you. Please!” The hard, rhythmic pull of his mouth sent pleasure straight to my core, building a fierce tension between my thighs.
He hummed and sucked on the delicate skin of my breasts, leaving marks on each one, and suddenly, I wanted to mark him too.
I wrapped my legs around him and twisted. To my surprise, he let me flip us so I rode him.
Cole at his cruelest had been devastating to my heart, but Cole at his softest, determined to be the best man he could be, his eyes filled with affection and sweetness and desire? I was so fucking gone for this man, and fuck him, he was leaving me anyway.
“Sparrow,” he rasped, setting his hands on my hips. I leaned down to brush my lips against his then kissed down his jaw and settled on his neck, where I nibbled and sucked until I too had left a mark, had branded him as mine.
When I rose, the satisfaction in his eyes fucking undid me. “Do it again,” he begged, stretching out beneath me like a mythical god, golden and beautiful and so fucking hot, I almost couldn’t think. “Mark me, sparrow. Make sure the whole fucking world knows who I belong to.”
So I did, again and again and again, working my way down to his stomach and unclothing him, and then he rolled us again with effortless strength. He positioned himself at my entrance, eyes locked on mine as he slid into me in one hard thrust.
Cole held me so tight, I could hardly breathe, our bodies intertwined as he thrust into me with a desperation that bordered on violence. He wrapped both arms around me, clutching at me as I did the same to him, as if by pressing our bodies together, we could ease the pain of what he was doing.
I scratched down his back, drawing blood, needing to mark him.
“Fuck yes,” he moaned. “Hurt me, sparrow. Make me feel something other than—” He cut himself off, gripping me so hard, I knew bruises would bloom by morning. “You’re mine. Fucking mine. Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasped, even though I could never be, even though I wanted it more than anything else in the world. “So fucking yours.”
“Eva Eva Eva,” he chanted, my name like a prayer on his lips, and then he adjusted our positions so he could reach between us.
He pinched my nipple hard, making me buck my hips against him, and chuckled breathlessly.
“Such a pretty little slut for pain,” he said, then slid his hand downward so he could circle my clit.
“When this is done, when you’re safe, I’m going to take you in closets between classes, put you on your knees for me in the library, and never fucking let you forget who you belong to. ”
The naked possession—the barely concealed desperation in his voice—sent me over the edge, and I came with a sharp cry, pleasure and grief tangled so tightly, I couldn’t tell them apart.
“Oh fuck, princess, so fucking tight, so fucking good for me,” he moaned. “Squeezing me as you come, like you’re never going to let me go.”
“I won’t,” I promised as he came inside me, crying out my name, and then collapsed, rolling to his side and taking me with him.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. He brushed a finger over my cheek, and I was surprised to see the evidence of tears on it. “Please.”
We lay there for long moments before he slid out of bed and grabbed a towel to clean me up with. He interspersed gentle strokes with soft kisses on my thighs before standing.
We dressed in silence, and when I would have pulled on my sweatshirt, he frowned, taking his own sweatshirt out of his bag and sliding it over my head. I pressed the collar to my nose, inhaling his spicy cologne, to his amusement.
“I have to go,” he said finally and then put back on that mask of cocky arrogance that was so hot and so frustrating at the same time.
He opened the door and padded over to Tristan’s. I wanted to eavesdrop, but I busied myself with my phone instead. A minute later, they were both back in Cole’s room with me.
Haruto and Rami stuck their heads in a moment later, took in the packed bags, and silently helped Cole bring them down the SUV waiting downstairs.
We filled the car in silence, and then it was time for him to go.
Rami leaned back against the car, blocking Cole’s path. “This is bullshit,” he said. “Don’t think we don’t realize what you’re doing.”
My eyes flew to his. We hadn’t told him the whole story. We hadn’t told anyone the whole story, but Rami and Haruto seemed to have put it together since their offhand comments about blackmail the other night.
“Then help me do it,” Cole snarled, his mask of arrogance sliding back into place as armor against the devastation of what he was doing. “It’s the only way.”
“The only way to what?” Rami snarled right back. “Prove you’re as fucked up as your father?”
Cole’s smile was all teeth and no warmth. “I’m taking that fucker down, no matter what it costs me.”
Tristan yanked him into his embrace, their kiss so brutal, so filled with emotion, that I couldn’t watch. “You better fucking come back to me,” Tristan growled.
Cole’s hand slid up to Tristan’s nape, and they leaned their foreheads together in a long, silent acknowledgment.
“This sucks.” Tristan’s voice cracked.
“It’s the only way.”
Cole pulled away and slid into the driver’s seat without another word.
His taillights disappeared into the dark, and Haruto’s hand fell onto my shoulder.
“He’ll be okay,” Haruto murmured.
But we both knew he was lying.