12. Cole #2
I slide my tongue lower, tasting her everywhere. She’s shaking like crazy, but I don’t stop. I’m hungry, and I want to eat.
I suck harder, hungrier, my tongue locked on her clit until every sound she makes turns into a broken sob.
“Too much—Cole—fuck—too much—”
I growl against her. “You can take it.”
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them until I find the spot that makes her body bow off the bed, and a rough, needy moan leaves her throat.
I keep my tongue on her clit, licking and sucking while my fingers pump deeper, harder, dragging her toward her orgasm even as her hands claw through my hair, desperate for something to hold on to.
She comes hard, her back arching off the mattress. I keep licking her, fucking her with my fingers while she shatters around them. I devour the sound of her gasps and cries as her body twitches.
“Fuck—you’re gonna kill me—”
Her voice cracks and she pushes at my head with shaking hands. I pull back, panting, my face wet with her slick. My jaw aches. And my cock… fuck, it’s hard enough I could break something with it.
I reach over and grab a condom from the nightstand, tearing the foil with my teeth, my eyes never leaving hers, watching as she breathes hard, her skin flushed from the orgasm I just wrung out of her.
Her gaze drops to my hand as I stroke myself, and I swear to God it’s torture that I’m not inside her yet.
I roll the condom on and crawl up her body, dragging my mouth along her stomach, between her ribs, up the flush of her chest.
My hands grip her hips and I flip her over, loving the little gasp she lets out when I push her into the mattress. I tug her hips back toward me, pressing a hand between her shoulders to make her arch for me.
I line myself up, sliding my cock between her slick pussy, feeling how wet she is. “Tell me no,” I murmur, squeezing her hips. “Tell me to stop. Tell me to fuck someone else and get you out of my head.”
She doesn’t say a word. She just lets out a shaky breath, and I know she’s not stopping this. I press the head of my cock to her entrance, just slightly, and she moans, dropping her head.
“Remember all that shit you talked earlier?” I murmur against her ear. “Remember telling me I couldn’t make a woman come? I’m about to prove you so fucking wrong.”
I push into her in one hard thrust, burying myself to the base. She moans loudly, her fingers clawing at the sheets, but I grab her hips and pull her back, sliding into her again until her whole body shakes.
Goddamn, she’s so tight, soaking wet, and gripping me inside her.
I fucking hate her. Hate how hot she is. Hate how her body fits mine like a glove.
But after tonight… I can finally be done with her.
I lean down, my mouth brushing against her skin as I fuck her. I let my teeth scrape along her skin.
The little choked noise she makes goes straight to my head.
“What are you doing?” she pants.
“All those times you begged me to bite you?” I snarl against her skin. “Doing that right the fuck now.”
I scrape my teeth along her shoulder, biting her slightly as I drive my cock into her.
I want her undone. I want her wrecked. I want her to feel this tomorrow and hate herself for it. I want to take back every inch she ever took from me—every look, every word, every memory I didn’t ask to keep.
She gasps, shaky, wrecked breaths leaving her lips.
“Listen to you,” I murmur against her ear, burying myself deep in her pussy. “All that attitude earlier, and now you can’t even breathe right.”
I drive into her again, harder this time, her breathy moans music to my ears. I pull almost all the way out before pushing back in slow and deep, watching her body jolt when I fill her again.
“Jesus,” I grunt, my head tipping back for a second as her pussy tightens around my cock. I pull out again and push in slowly once more, gripping her hips to keep her right where I want her. “You’re fucking soaked.”
Fuck. I want to tattoo ‘Cole’s property’ right above her ass so no one else ever gets to look at her like this. The thought slams into me and I snap the fuck out of it, because this only happens once.
Never again.
My hands tighten on her hips as I pick up the pace, my cock driving into her again and again, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.
She tries to hold herself up on her elbows, but another thrust knocks the strength out of her and she drops back down to the mattress with a broken moan, muffled in my sheets.
“Oh, God,” she gasps when I thrust into her. “I’m gonna—”
A loud cry leaves her lips as she comes, her fingers clawing at the sheets.
The second she squeezes around my cock, I know I’m not lasting. I drag her back onto my cock and bury myself to the hilt, fucking her faster as the heat of her tight pussy clamps down around me.
“Fuck—”
My body jerks as I come hard inside her, my hips grinding deep while I ride out the orgasm.
She’s still pulsing around me, still trembling from her own orgasm, and it only makes it worse or better. Fuck, I don’t know.
I stay buried deep inside her, breathing hard as my forehead drops to her spine, my lips brushing against her skin.
Neither of us talks. All I hear are our ragged breaths and the pounding in my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to work through what just happened.
After a few seconds, I push myself up and pull out of her, ignoring the small gasp she lets out at the loss. I roll off the bed and tug off the condom, tying it off before tossing it into the trash without looking at her.
Can’t.
Not right now.
I drag a hand over my face, like I can scrub the whole night off my skin. Like I can erase the feel of her from my palms, my tongue, the back of my eyelids.
Finally scratched the itch.
Fucked Chase’s ex.
And now I’m done with her.
That’s what this was supposed to do—burn it out of my system.
Finally end whatever the hell’s been coiled between us since the night I walked into that club.
Fuck, I need a cigarette.
“I should, um…” she starts to say.
“Yeah.” I glance over my shoulder, catching her standing in my room in nothing but that lace bra and her skirt already on—no panties underneath, because I tore them off like a starving animal.
Her eyes meet mine for a split second before she jerks them away, tugging her shirt over her head as fast as she can.
I turn away and dig into my nightstand for a cigarette and my lighter. I cup my palm around the tip as I light it, inhaling deep until the burn hits my lungs and gives me something else to focus on.
I hear her boots clicking against the floor as she heads for the door, and I take another pull of the cigarette.
I shouldn’t look at her again, but I do anyway.
She’s at the door with her hand on the handle, and when her eyes meet mine, her throat works as she swallows. “No one can know,” she says again.
They’re the same words she said in the bathroom, but this time they sound more like a plea than a condition.
I blow out smoke. “Please. I wouldn’t brag about slumming it.”
Her shoulders go tight, and she cuts me a glare sharp enough to draw blood. If she had actual fangs, I’d already be dead. But all she does is lift her chin and yank the door open, not bothering to answer before she walks out.
I take another drag and stare at the empty doorway.
She’s gone.
Out of my room. Out of my head. Finally out of my system.
Now I can forget her.