Chapter 6
Aurora
Ireach up, my arms encircling his neck to coax a long, deep kiss out of Cole. Whatever his insecurities, I want to assuage them, so I nod, silently telling him to do what he needs.
Then he raises himself above me, pressing the back of my thighs flat against his.
My feet rest on either side of his head when he slides his cock through my wetness, coating himself in my orgasm before he notches at my entrance.
He holds my gaze hostage all the while before he thrusts forward, filling me entirely.
We cry out together, our eyes still locked as Cole begins to move.
“You feel so good, Rory. Your tight cunt is choking my cock so.”
Thrust.
“Fucking.”
Thrust.
“Good.”
As I whimper at his filthy words, I palm both my breasts, tweaking my nipples and elevating my own pleasure while Cole watches with ardent eyes. His hips begin pistoning against me, driving me higher.
Until suddenly, he pulls out and flips me onto my knees, thrusting into me from behind to hit even deeper. I cry out in abandon when his pace doesn’t falter as he leans over my back and rests his panting mouth by my ear. And when he speaks, his words send a flood of arousal straight to my core.
“This first time will be fast. And hard, baby. I—I can’t hold back anymore.”
I press my face to the mattress, arching my back and giving him easier access as I groan, “I don’t want you to hold back.” His hands palm my ass almost reverently when he pushes himself in to the hilt, and I whimper, “Fuck me like you need to, Cole. I want it so badly.”
He groans deep inside his chest as my whimper opens the floodgates, and then he takes me exactly like he said he would.
Hard.
Fast.
And so fucking deep, I’m sure I’ll feel him inside me forever.
It’s then I realise. This is it. This is what I’ve been missing. And it’s wholly intoxicating.
Cole’s hands grasp my hips as he groans, “Shit, you feel fucking divine.”
One large palm encircles my waist while the other hand tugs on my hair, jerking me up until my back is against his front.
“That’s it, fuck! Come on my cock. Drown me in you.” He reaches between my thighs and unerringly finds my clit to rub rhythmic circles that drive me insane.
His hips falter as I grind back against him, desperately reaching for an orgasm that’s just out of my reach when he rasps against the shell of my ear, “Scream my name now, Sweetheart.”
Then he pinches my clit between his thumb and index finger as his teeth sink into the sensitive part of my neck, and I fall apart with his name on my lips.
It echoes through the room when I splinter into a million tiny pieces as his cock pulses deep inside me until my body sags uselessly against him.
Cole catches me with ease, shifting to wrap me in his embrace.
“That was… Fuck…” he trails off on a pant, inhaling slowly before he finishes. “Where have you been all my life?”
I snuggle against him, smiling to myself, and the last thing I feel before my spent body passes out pressed against his broad, perspiration-slick chest is Cole brushing a soft kiss to my brow.
Soft winter light filters through the curtains when I blink awake, my body deliciously sore in all the right places. A lazy smile curves my lips as memories of last night flood back—Cole's hands, his mouth, the way he made me feel things I'd only ever read about.
I reach across the bed, seeking his warmth, but my hand meets cool sheets instead.
Propping myself up on one elbow, I squint around the room.
His clothes are gone. No sign of him in the bathroom, no sound of the shower running.
Just silence and the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the pillow beside me.
My stomach does an uncomfortable flip.
Then I spot it. A piece of hotel stationery on the nightstand, folded once with my name in cursive. I sit up fully, pulling the sheet around me as I reach for it with trembling fingers.
The handwriting is neat and polished, almost careful in its placement.
Rory,
I really enjoyed last night. You're incredible — funny, smart, beautiful and, Christ, the way you made me feel... Words don’t come close. But I think we both know this was just one perfect night.
I'm not book boyfriend material, Sweetheart. No matter how much data you collect. Trust me on that.
You deserve someone who can give you more than I can.
- C
I read it twice. Then a third time, searching for something I'm not sure I'll find.
The thing is, I don't regret inviting him back to my room. Not even a little bit. Last night was everything I'd hoped it would be—passionate and intense. Truly liberating.
Cole gave me an experience I'll never forget, and I'm grateful for that.
But as I trace my fingers over his words, I can't shake the feeling that what we shared was more than just physical.
The conversation that flowed so easily, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world, the tenderness mixed with the passion—it felt like more than a simple one-night stand.
Or maybe I’ve been reading too many Penelope Costa books.
I set the note back down with a sigh and slide out of bed, padding to the window. London stretches out before me, her streets already bustling despite the early hour. Families hurrying to holiday gatherings, couples strolling hand-in-hand, the city dressed in her festive finest.
This is still my home. My love. And today, I'm going to celebrate her the way I always do—by getting lost in her magic.
I shower quickly, washing away the evidence of last night while holding on to the memories.
As I dry off and start getting ready, I make a mental checklist. Covent Garden Christmas market is a must—its lights, decorations, and festive atmosphere are just what the day calls for.
Maybe I'll grab a mulled wine and watch the street performers. Perhaps wander through the shops and treat myself to something special. I haven’t bought a new ugly Christmas sweater this season yet.
The thought buoys me to no end.
I pull on my favourite jeans and a chunky knit sweater—the deep green one that makes my eyes pop —and layer my festive red coat over it. After checking my makeup one last time, I catch my reflection and pause.
The woman staring back at me looks different somehow. Still me, but...dissimilar. There's a confidence in my eyes that wasn't quite there before, a knowing smile playing at my lips.
I slip my bag over my shoulder and pop my knitted hat atop my blonde head before heading for the door.
London’s calling.