Chapter 8 - Chloe #2
"I know we're very different," he says. "I know there's an age gap. I know you're this smart woman who works with numbers and I'm a fucking disaster who beats people unconscious for money. But I don't care. I'll fight the whole world for you if I have to."
I gasp.
Actually gasp, my hand coming up to cover my mouth because I don't know what else to do with the emotions flooding through me right now.
No man has ever said anything like this to me.
Not even close. My ex told me he loved me once, six months into our relationship, and it felt obligatory, like something he was supposed to say rather than something he felt.
But Cole is staring right into my eyes while he says these things, and there's nothing obligatory about it. There's nothing thought or calculated. It's just raw truth pouring out of him.
I move closer. Close enough that our knees touch. Close enough that I can sense his warm breath.
"Are you sure?" I ask. "Because I want you to. I want to be yours. I'm tired of denying myself good things in life."
"I'm sure," he says immediately. "But Chloe, you need to understand, I'm not one of those good things."
"What?"
"I told you before. I have nightmares. Every single night. I have noise in my brain that only stops with the violence in the Pit, and that's not going to change. I'm not… I'm not easy. I'm not simple. I'm probably going to fuck this up."
I reach out and take his hands. Both of them. They're so large that mine disappear entirely when I wrap my fingers around his palms. His knuckles are still swollen from tonight's fight, already starting to bruise.
"That's okay," I say softly. "Maybe now you'll have another reason to never lose in the Pit."
He stares at me for a moment, and then he laughs.
Actually laughs. It's a rough sound, like he's out of practice, but it's genuine and it transforms his whole face.
"You're perfect," he says. "And if you're watching, there's no way I can ever lose."
I smile. "I hope not. But even if you do, I'll nurse you back to health."
He doesn't reply.
Instead, his hand comes up to cup my face. His palm spans from my jaw to my temple, so large that he's holding my entire head in one hand, and then he closes his eyes and leans forward.
Everything slows down.
I watch his face get closer. Those dark eyes hidden now behind closed lids, his mouth slightly parted, his thick lips moving toward mine.
My heart is racing so hard I'm sure he can feel it.
I'm terrified I'll be a bad kisser, that my nervousness will make me clumsy, that I'll somehow ruin this moment.
But there's no way I'm backing down now.
I close my eyes and meet him halfway.
His lips touch mine and everything else disappears.
The kiss is soft at first. Like he's giving me time to adjust, time to decide if this is really what I want. And then I press closer, part my lips slightly, and he groans into my mouth and the kiss transforms into something else entirely.
His free hand moves to my thigh.
I stop the kiss and gasp.
I'm so fucking soaked I'm genuinely afraid I'm going to drench his couch. I can feel it, the wetness that's been building since he crushed that tracker in his hand, since he pinned Daniel to the wall, since he told me I was his.
"Too fast?" he asks, his voice rough.
I shake my head. Try to form words. "No. I want this. I want this as much as you do. But I need you to know… My body isn't… It's not as beautiful as you might be used to."
"You're beautiful to me," he says immediately. "And I love your curves. Means there's more for me to touch. More to kiss. More to cherish."
The words make my chest tight, make my eyes sting with tears I refuse to let fall. But I'm still unsure. Still scared that when he actually sees me, really sees me, he'll change his mind.
So, I do something absolutely crazy.
I pull off my sweater and toss it to the corner of the couch. Then my bra follows. And I'm sitting there topless in front of him, my breasts fuller and softer than is fashionable, my stomach not flat, and I force myself to meet his eyes.
"Look at me," I say. "Really look. And tell me if you have any second thoughts."
"Second thoughts?" His voice is almost strangled. "I'd be crazy. You look incredible."
And then he's moving.
He drops to his knees in front of me, and the sight of this massive man kneeling before me does something to my brain that I'll need to process later.
His hands go to my shoes, pulling them off one at a time.
Then he's unbuttoning my jeans, and he leans forward to kiss me while he does it—my mouth, my jaw, my throat—and I'm gasping and arching into him.
He pulls my jeans down and off, tossing them aside. He bites his lower lip, looking at me like I'm something precious, something he wants to devour.
Then he starts kissing my legs.
His mouth is hot against my skin, his lips trailing up from my ankle to my knee to my inner thigh, and his hands position themselves on my inner legs and spread them wider. I let him. I let him spread me open because I trust him and I want this and—
Oh God.
His mouth gets close to my pussy and I arch my back involuntarily.
He doesn't even take my panties off. Just pulls them aside and puts his mouth on me, and my eyes roll back almost immediately.
I have never been touched like this.
Never felt anything like this.
It's fierce, hungry, delicious. He runs his tongue up and down my slit, lapping at me like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted, feasting on me, even sucking my clit gently before releasing it and doing it again.
I grip the couch, trying to endure it, trying to show him that I'm strong enough to resist him.
I can't.
I'm moaning loudly within seconds, asking for more, begging for it, one hand moving to his hair and pulling him closer, burying his face in my soaked pussy because I need more of this, need all of it.
He tightens his grip on my inner thighs, hard enough to leave marks, hard enough that I'll feel it tomorrow, and circles his tongue around my clit.
My whole body seizes up, my back arching off the couch, and then something happens that's never happened before.
The pleasure peaks and keeps going and suddenly I'm squirting, a jet of wetness soaking his face, and I'm mortified, absolutely mortified because I've never done this before, never even knew I could.
He stops and looks up at me, his face glistening, and he's smirking.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
I can barely form words. "I'm so… I'm so fucking satisfied. But I'm sorry. For the… I never expected—"
"I loved it," he says, cutting me off. "Shows I'm doing a good job."
Then he takes off my panties and extends his hand.
I grab it and he pulls me up to him, and then he's scooping me up like I weigh nothing, one arm under my knees and the other around my back, and oh fuck, he knows exactly what I was thinking about earlier, he knows I wanted to know if he could lift me.
He carries me to the nearest wall and pins me there.
One hand holds me up effortlessly while the other goes to his pants, unbuttoning them, pushing them down, and I can see it now: his cock, thick and hard and so much bigger than I expected, and my pussy clenches just looking at it.
"Cole," I breathe.
He looks at me, his eyes widen. "Tell me you want this."
"I want this. I want you."
"Good," he says. "Because I'm not stopping until you scream my name."