My gaze flicks from his focused expression to his hands steadying mine, and I clear my throat. “Oh. I just… I hope it wasn’t all bad.”
He exhales through his nose, something close to a dry huff. “Not all of it.”
His attention stays on my finger as he works, cleaning the cut carefully, methodical and precise. “There were good parts. You learn what you can handle. You learn to trust the people next to you.”
He reaches for the adhesive strips, aligning them neatly. “There was this guy—Shooter. Worst nickname ever. Couldn’t hit a target to save his life, but he had a talent for making people laugh at exactly the wrong moment.”
Despite myself, I smile. “That sounds… dangerous.”
“It was,” he says, almost fondly. “But it kept us sane.”
He finishes securing the strips, then wraps my finger, firm but gentle. His voice stays even, grounded, like he’s talking about something ordinary. Still, the fact that he’s saying anything at all feels significant.
“How does that feel?” he asks.
I blink, pulled out of my thoughts, and look down at my hand. “Um. Good. I didn’t even notice when you—”
“You did well,” he says quietly.
His thumb brushes across my palm, light and careful, checking the bandage. The touch sends a ripple through me that has nothing to do with pain. “Very well.”
When he’s done, he lifts his head, and suddenly we’re far too close.
I swallow, caught in the intensity of his gaze. His eyes darken, his lips part slightly as he exhales, and for a split second I’m certain he’s going to lean in. I can almost feel it—his mouth, his breath, the weight of him closing the space between us.
Then he pulls back like the thought burns.
He clears his throat, steps away. “Under the circumstances,” he says, voice carefully neutral, “I’ll be cooking for the next few days.”
And then he’s gone.
Just… gone.
Leaving me standing there, my body warm and unsettled, my heart racing, my lips still buzzing with something that never quite happened.
***
I get in bed trying to ignore how hot I am. My body is on fire and there’s an aching emptiness between my legs. I shake my head. I want the same ‘I can and will handle it’ man that treated my wound. The one who didn’t ask, just did it while telling me exactly what he was doing. Take charge, protective, intense, and wild. What if he wasn’t restrained? What if he released all that raw need and desire I saw swirling in his eyes?
Shaking my head, I try to ease into sleep, but in that beautiful place between sleep and the waking world, I feel Cole, on top of me, spreading my legs around him and stroking down my bare thighs. He’d grip the sides of my underwear and drag them off my legs.
“I take what I want, Sofia. I want you, so I’m going to take you,” he growls against my lips. “Now. Rough and hard, just like we both need.”
“Yes,” I answer, lifting my hips to grind against him.
“Please,” I whimper, feeling my throat work.
He pushes my knees to my shoulders, kissing the back of my thighs as his cock rubs against me. I try to touch him, but he catches my wrists and holds them down above my head as he feasts on me. His tongue curls with mine as he keeps running his hands all over me, stroking, teasing, palming my thighs while digging his nails in to grind against me, the head of his cock hitting my clit again and again.
My fingers move to the same. Even if Ialmostfeel it in my half sleep state, I need more. I rub my clit and moan at the added sensation. Groaning, I spread my legs.
“You’re all mine, Sofia. So wet for me, all mine to enjoy, to overwhelm, to fuck,” he growls.
I nod eagerly and thrust my fingers inside me as ... as ...
He thrusts into me, hard and deep. And he keeps telling me what he’s doing, all the positions he’s going to put me in, the ways he’s going to control every thrust and every hot moment between us. I’m his for the taking, his to enjoy, his to please. Every thrust is harder and more demanding than the last and the way he fills me keeps teasing my g-spot.
I’m so close and his fingers on my clit, the deep angle he uses to fuck me while he says more and more naughty things, how I’m going to lick my wetness off him, how he’s going to make the most of this all night, how there’s no reason to stop until the sun comes up, it pushes me over the edge.
