Page 150 of Muddy Messy Love

Desire pools between my legs as his arousal presses against my belly, low and hard but not low enough, and I need more. I’ll always need more.

I hook my leg around his hip, and Cole slides a hand under my knee, hitching me up to wrap my legs around him, granting friction where I need it. The rush of syrupy tingles that flourish through my body trigger a mess of breathy moans, but denim still separates us, and that simply will not do. I need Cole naked, free in my arms, and hot against my skin.

He kisses up my neck like he kissed my mouth, leaving a trail of goosebumps, and my head falls against the door while I scratch my nails down his back. “You smell so damn good,” he whispers at the shell of my ear with singeing hot breath that tickles and makes me shiver right down to my pointed toes. I kiss and lick down to his collarbone, relishing his salted-candy taste, and he grinds harder against my core, catching my earlobe between his teeth, biting down hard and soft enough to drive me fucking wild.

Reaching between us, I flick open the button on his jeans, then tug at the hem of his polo shirt. “Please,” I say. “I need you naked.”

Cole’s smirk is equal parts triumph and filth, and his eyes glimmer like black diamonds as he gently sets me down. In one smooth motion, he grasps his shirt from the back of his collar and pulls it over his head, then steps back, kicks off his shoes, and gets rid of his socks and jeans.

The head of his hard cock teases the waistband of his black trunks, but it’s him in his wholeness that stills me in awe. My memory did not do this man justice—it was too blurred by heartbreak and tears. I drag my gaze up from his bare feet to his sculpted thighs, then over every golden ridge and valley of his stomach and chest, licking my lips as I envisage tasting and worshipping every square inch of him. It could be the hazy slant of summer light coursing through the window, or the orange hue it throws, but Cole, this very minute, appears radiant and surrounded by gold. The lush jungle on his arm vibrantly beckons while the tiger dares me near, and I swallow. “You’re stunning,” I say, meeting his eyes. “Just so you know.”

Cole smiles gently this time and closes the space between us. “So are you,” he whispers in my ear, tucking away my hair. Reaching past my waist, he flips the lock on the door, then slides my billowy top up my raised arms and over my fingertips, letting it float to the floor as he unhooks my pink bra and disposes of that too. He greets my breasts and tight nipples with a greedy mouth and hands before peppering kisses down the centre of my stomach as he drops to his knees. Cole stares up at me then, his gaze heavy and hooded while he unbuttons my frayed denim shorts and slips off each shoe. I watch him, steadying myself on his strong shoulders, as he shimmies down my shorts and lace panties until they fall clean to the floor. And I stay watching as he hooks my leg over his shoulder and bites his plump bottom lip. “Christ, you’re even more perfect than I remember.”

He dives in to feast without wasting a second, causing my breath to hitch and shudder. His scorching, wet mouth is soft on my sex—his stubble scratching my inner thighs—and the combined feeling is ecstasy.

“Oh God.” I grip Cole’s hair, thankful there’s more there to grab, as he sucks down on my clit and pushes two fingers inside me, plunging them in and out. I’m ridiculously soaked—thatmuch is clear to the ear—but I don’t give a fuck. I’m way beyond that.

His gluttonous murmurs vibrate through me, setting every cell ablaze, and I melt into him on weak and trembling knees. Fuck. I’d forgotten how attuned Cole is to my body—how he plays me like a fine violin. A bespoke one built just for him that cherishes every stroke and responds precisely to his needs.

Long-dormant pleasure surges through me, strong and fast. “I’m going to come,” I gasp.

Again, Cole’s fingers plunge into me. Once, twice, three more times before he bites the inside of my thigh, then gently nips my clit and resumes soothing it with a sinfully skilled tongue. I explode. God, how I explode. Rapture slams through me, arching my back and liquifying my legs. Cole holds me upright, anchoring me hard against his mouth, while I rock against his tongue and surrender to wave after wave of potent bliss.

I’m still in fuzzy la-la land when Cole stands and shoves down his trunks, wrenches my legs around his hips, and slams his long length inside me. A rough groan tears from his throat, sopranoed by one of my own as my freshly fired nerve endings ache in the most beautifully painful way.

“Fuck,” Cole grits as he thrusts in and out. Now isn’t the time for slow or sweet—now is the time to purge four long months of torture—four months of desire and pain. To sinter our souls together and melt in sweet relief.

My hands find his chest, and I relish the contrast of satin-smooth skin over his flexing muscles. Again, Cole finds my neck and grazes a line of kisses down to my breasts where he sucks so damn hard I yelp and spiral into another orgasm. He follows my lead and roars his release but stays deep inside me once done.

Our eyes lock, and sweat glistens on his forehead as his cock pulses inside me. Our chests heave as we struggle to catch ourbreath and make sense of the alchemy we create. “Holy shit,” I breathe.

A smile tugs at Cole’s kiss-stained mouth, and a giggle bursts free from somewhere deep inside me. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m laughing. It’s just, I forgot how—” I shake my head.

“Incredible we are together?” he finishes.

“Um, yeah.”

Cole tightens his hands on my arse and drags his forehead across mine. “Promise me you won’t wake up tomorrow and regret this.”

I skate my fingers through his damp hair and rub the tip of my nose against his. “That won’t happen.” How could it? My heart hasn’t just dropped anchor here; it’s welded itself to Cole’s. “But I need complete honesty. I need you to confide in me—to trust me with your secrets. I want us on the same team from now on.”

Cole pulls us away from the door and carries me to the settee. The cushions are soft against my back as he lays me down and slides out his cock. With one knee planted on the floor and the other between mine, he hovers over me, stroking my hair. “Do you have anywhere to be tonight?”

“Other than with you?” I ask.

That answer earns me a crooked smile. “Well, then.” Cole climbs to his feet and grabs a box of tissues from his desk, then returns to clean us both up. “This place might be ragged, but cum stains on the couch are still beneath it.”

I snort a laugh as I glance around the room, trying to ignore the resurgence of heat rushing to my core in response to his gentle but thorough cleaning skills. Like the reception, Cole’s office is cosy and retro. The striped wallpaper continues on through here but is broken up by copper wall art and mid-century furniture. “Did Mrs. Taylor do your decorating?” I poke.

Dumping the dirty tissues in the mesh bin under his desk, Cole chuckles. “No, but she approves. I did this. Salvos-chic, I believe it’s called.”

My jaw drops. “Youwent thrifting?”

“I did.” He grins, standing there naked and proud. “You made it sound like wonderland, and I thought it’d fit the space.”

I prop up on one elbow to take in all the cute details. The small rocket lamp on the table nest behind me, and the colourful West German pottery scattered across the sideboard. “It’s lovely,” I say, spottingHigh Heart Symphonyperched on its pedestal in the corner behind his desk. My heart sings. He kept it. He not only kept it but put it in his office to stare at every day. What a masochist.

“You’relovely,” Cole says, re-garnering my attention. I look up to find him staring down at me with pure adoration, and my cheeks flush, prompting him to snicker. “Can I photograph you?” he asks.

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