Chapter 12 #2
“Yeah?” He continues to torture me for several more seconds, then picks up speed. He fingers me hard and fast, his tongue and lips still sucking my clit. I see stars. My body is completely at his mercy. My thighs are shaking and I’m making sounds I’ve never heard myself make before.
“Now you can come,” he says, pulling back from my clit and pressing his palm down against my lower belly as his fingers crook inside me.
I come harder this time, spine bowing off the counter, thighs clamping around his head right before I feel an intense sensation and then a wet gush that flows down my thighs.
He takes it, all of it, tongue relentless until I’m whimpering and pushing at his hair from overstimulation.
Only then does he pull back, wiping his soaked mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and satisfied. He straightens up, crowding between my knees again, hands braced on the counter by my hips.
“Am I forgiven?” he asks, smirking.
I’m wrecked. Skin flushed, breathing ragged, legs trembling around him. “Did I just—did you?”
“You’ve never had a man make you squirt before?” He looks at me like it’s a common occurrence that happens all the time and it makes me laugh, easing the embarrassment.
“I didn’t even know I could!” I cover my face with my hands and laugh again. “Wait.” I sit up. “Is that why you put your shirt under me?”
He nods, a small V forming between his brows. “Yes. Was it okay?” He tilts my chin up, his hand cupping my jaw so I’m looking at him. “How’d it feel?”
“Yeah,” I practically gasp, “it felt—really good.” I grab the back of his neck and yank him down to me, my mouth seeking his. “So good, in fact, I think we should try it again.”
“I guess that means I am forgiven?” he says against my mouth, his tongue finding mine.
“Not yet,” I pant against his lips, tasting myself on him, dizzy from it. “Not even close.”
His mouth crushes back against mine like he’s trying to claim every laugh, every shaky breath I just gave him.
The taste of me is still on his tongue, and that makes the kiss even filthier. My fingers find his hair, tugging hard enough to pull a growl from him. He presses closer, chest to mine, and when I feel how hard he is through his jeans, my body tightens all over again.
“Not even close, huh?” he murmurs against my lips, that smug grin ghosting over them.
I bite it. “You’ve got more to prove, Bristol.”
That does it. His eyes go wild like I’ve just waved a red flag at a bull.
He grabs the back of my neck and kisses me hard enough to make my head spin. His hand slides between us, cupping me possessively, his thumb dragging over the sensitive spot he just wrecked with his tongue. I gasp into his mouth which only makes him kiss me harder.
“Tell me what you want,” he growls.
“You,” I breathe.
He hooks his hands behind my knees and pulls me to the edge of the counter, the rough denim of his jeans dragging against my clit, friction and heat everywhere.
He moves one hand to fist the hem of my hoodie, the other lands on my hip, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
“Does that mean I can fuck you?”
His cock pulses against my clit and my hips instinctively push back against him, my breath stuttering.
“Please, please fuck me,” I pant. I can’t stop the needy sound that leaves my throat, and the second he hears it, his head drops to my shoulder.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You sound so goddamn good.” He pulls back, eyes locked on mine, and I watch as he unbuckles his belt. “I like a woman who isn’t afraid to tell me she wants to be fucked.”
The quiet jingle of metal against leather combined with the way he’s looking at me right now has me throbbing obscenely in my small kitchen. My pulse is pounding so loud I can barely think. He notices. His eyes drop down to where I’m still wet and swollen and his tongue drags across his bottom lip.
“My mouth is watering again just looking at you.”
He pushes his jeans and boxers down just enough, and then he’s there, heavy and thick, the sight alone making my mouth go dry. I drag my nails down his chest, greedy for the feel of him, the heat of his skin under my fingers.
“Jesus,” I whisper. “You’re…”
He smirks, fingers sliding up my thigh. He grips his cock and slides his hand down slowly, dragging his fingers over the tip to gather the precum and moans. “Say it.”
“Big,” I blurt, cheeks going hot. “You’re… really big.”
His laugh is positively sinful. “And you’re really wet.” He steps forward, dragging himself through my wetness.
“Ohhh shiiit.” I reach down and hold him, dragging the tip of his cock over my clit.
“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna have me blow before I even get inside of you,” he says against my leg that’s flung over his shoulder.
He pushes his hips forward slightly this time, his cock inching inside me.
My toes curl. I plant my other foot on the counter and my hips lift slightly, trying to get him to give me more.
“Sorry I just need—”
“You need what, Hailey?” He grabs both of my ankles and holds them up straight as he steps forward another inch, then back out.
“Oh, yes—no!” I reach down again, trying to force him inside me, but he clicks his tongue and steps back again.
“Not until you tell me what you need.”
“Your cock! I need your cock. Just fuck me, please!” I’m so desperate it’s pathetic and I don’t even care that I’m lying half-naked on my own counter, begging a man for his cock. “You’re forgiven okay. Just fuck me, please.”
“That’s what I want to hear,” he says on a long, low groan as he slides deeper than he’s been yet. I wince slightly, my body still struggling to accept his size. “I got you,” he pulls out, then back in again. “I won’t give you more than you can handle. Just tell me to stop and I will.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I try to glare at him but my mouth is hanging open, my eyes half-rolled back in my head as he looks down at me with a sly grin.
“You’re angry when you get fucked.”
“Only when I’m being toyed with.”
“Baby, I just made you flood my face and your kitchen counter. I’ve earned the right to toy with you.” He grips my ankles even tighter, his thrusts starting to hit deeper with each stroke… and then he pushes all the way in.
Slow. Deep. Stretching me until every nerve feels electric. My heels are at my ears, his body hovering over mine. I grab his shoulders, fingers digging in. He hisses a curse against my neck.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe, unable to tell if I’m begging him to move or to give me another second. My head falls back, my hair sticking to my damp neck. “You feel, so big—so good.”
He groans, pressing deeper until he’s buried to the hilt. “You have no idea.”
For a heartbeat, we just stay like this, just breathing, both of us trembling, staring at each other like we’re both about to fall apart. Then he starts to move.
It’s a slow, punishing rhythm that turns quickly into something filthy and desperate. The sound of skin against skin echoes off my kitchen walls, mixing with my moans and his rough exhale every time he thrusts into me. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, guiding me exactly where he wants me.
“Look at me,” he barks, his voice sharp.
I open my eyes, and the sight of him almost undoes me. A vein bulges down his thick neck. His eyes are heavy-lidded, his jaw slack, his chest flexing like he’s holding back from really losing control. He’s watching himself fuck me.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Right there. You feel me? You feel how deep I am in your pussy?”
I nod frantically, fingers tangling in his hair, dragging his mouth back to mine.
The kiss is messy and needy, our moans swallowed between us.
I meet his thrusts, the counter creaking beneath us, my entire body arching toward him like I’ve been waiting my whole life for a man to lose control on me like this.
He shifts his angle, and the next thrust hits something inside me that makes me cry out.
“Oh my God!” My body goes stiff, my toes curled so tight I’m positive they’re going to cramp. “Right there, oh God, don’t stop—”
“I’m not fucking stopping,” he grits out, grabbing one of my legs and hooking it over his arm, giving him more room to move. “You’re gonna take it, baby. You’re gonna come on my cock just like you did on my tongue.”
My vision blurs. Everything dissolves around me except the filthy things he’s whispering against my mouth. His hand slides up, fingers wrapping gently around my throat, pressure just enough to make my breath hitch.
“You like that?” he asks, squeezing a little tighter, testing my limits.
“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes.”
He slows just enough to make me crazy, holding my gaze. “Then come for me. Let me feel it.”
It’s not a command this time, just gentle encouragement. I obey, letting everything go and relaxing into the orgasm that takes over my body.
It hits hard and fast, a white-hot surge that rips through me, leaves me shaking and gasping his name like a prayer.
He groans my name right back, driving deeper, harder, until his own rhythm breaks and he’s coming too, spilling into me with a deep, shuddering sound that makes my entire body clench again.
We’re both still wrapped around each other, trying to catch our breath. He rests his forehead against my chest, my hands tangled in his hair. I sigh, lifting his face so that he’s looking at me.
“That was the best groveling I’ve ever seen.”
His mouth curves into that slow, devastating grin. “If this is what forgiveness feels like, I plan on fucking up a lot more often.”
He leans his forehead against mine, both of us still trembling. And then he gives me that smile.
“What?” I ask, suddenly much more aware that I’m naked on my back with Cole Bristol still inside of me.
“Just didn’t imagine you’d enjoy a five-finger necklace.” He bites down on my shoulder gently, kissing it afterward.