“I really like it, My. And I’m not just saying that.” His words are genuine, honest.
Even so, I chew on my lower lip. “So says every person who has ever lied.”
He rests his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. “I haven’t lied to you yet, and I promise I never will.” He moves in closer, his lips only an inch from mine. “So when I say I like it, I mean it.”
Heart thrashing, I crash my lips against his. It’s like striking a match, my body coming alive in an instant. Rather than question my reaction, Cole leans into it, one of his hands sliding into my hair and tilting my head back so he can control the kiss.
As our tongues tangle in a battle of dominance, I run my hands over his broad, muscled chest, lightly scratching my nails against his nipples. He hisses out a sharp breath, his hips jerking up, pressing his hardened cock against my clothed core. I grind against him slowly, enjoying each and every groan that slips through his lips.
He peels off my oh-so-sexy sweatpants and sweatshirt and explores each inch of skin he reveals, both with his hands and his mouth, until I’m shaking with need. His movements aren’t the least bit rushed. He worships my body in a way that would have Eros and Aphrodite taking notes.
With agility only a professional athlete could possess, he slips off his briefs and rolls on a condom. All the while, he keeps me trapped against his body. Rather than move to my bedroom, he sits back down on the couch and settles me onto his lap with my thighs bracketing his. He places himself at my entrance, with one hand braced on my hip, and I slowly sink down on him. The stretch as he fills me has me moaning out his name.
“Fuck,” he groans, wrapping his arm around my waist. “One week without being inside you, and I forgot how tight your pussy is.”
I roll my hips once, then again, building a deep rhythm, head tipped forward to rest on his shoulder. He splays a hand over my back, at the base of my spine, pressing me closer. Choppy breaths hit my neck as he nuzzles into the side of my throat. He follows the move up with soft kisses against the sensitive skin.
“So good for me, baby,” he praises.
Before long, he pushes his hips up to meet mine, no longer content with letting me lead. As he grips my hips and tugs me down, driving into me, I gasp. And when he grinds his pelvic bone against my clit with each thrust, incoherent babble slips from my lips. The spark that’ll light my orgasm flares to life as our bodies rock against one another.
“Feels so good,” I moan.
“Like when I’m this deep, don’t you, baby?” His tone is a low rumble that pushes me closer to the edge.
A deep line of concentration and pleasure graces the spot between his brows as he works me over. He looks gorgeous like this. Desperate and dedicated and delicious.
“God, yes.”
He keeps up the pace, and in seconds, I explode into a thousand tiny pieces, clenching around his cock. I’m still shuddering around him when he groans, long and low, and stiffens as he releases himself.
Cheek pressed to his chest—which is now sticky with sweat—I close my eyes and relish the way he drags his calloused hands up and down my back. The steady sensation lulls me further into my post-orgasmic bliss. We stay pressed together, in comfortable silence, for several minutes, neither of us willing to pop the bubble we’re in, neither of us ready to tumble back into the real world.
“That’swhat I was planning to do last night,” Cole announces.
“Hmm,” I mumble, my cheek sticking to his chest. “So you really liked the piece? Even though you’d probably never pick up a book about an ex-royal finding love on a reality TV show?”
His answering chuckle vibrates against my skin. “Before you, I probably wouldn’t have set foot in a place that sells books, so I highly doubt I’m your target audience, but all those Bookstagram creators you follow? I’m sure they’d eat that shit right up.”
“Maybe,” I agree. “It’s scary, you know? I’m excited to write, but I’ve never really done anything for myself before. I didn’t do extracurriculars in school because I wanted to be home to help Elliott and Ava, and then in college, I worked as much as I could, so I had no time to join clubs. It feels like I’m fifteen steps behind my peers. They’ve all got it figured out, but I’m still discovering who I am.”
“You can’t compare yourself to anyone, baby,” he softly reprimands. “We’re all on our own journey, and it’s never too late to start something.”
Rubbing my brow, I sigh. God, I sound pathetic. “I guess.”
He huffs. “Well, I know.Hamiltondidn’t debut until Lin-Manuel Miranda was thirty-five, so I’d say you’re fine.”
I lean back, studying his serene face. “I’m sorry, but how do you know that?”
“You told me Kennedy was a Broadway fanatic, but I didn’t understand the extent of that until I accidentally told her the only show I’d seen wasCharlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
I cringe, because that’s her least favorite musical.
“She’s been texting me songs and facts about every show in existence, I think.”
I snort and shake my head. “I told you so.”
“When you become a famous author, I’ll get to say I toldyouso. And then it’ll be me asking for your autograph instead of the other way around.”
