Page 2 of Gifted To His Dad

Cole’s warm arms wrap around me, tugging me against his solid chest. His heart pounds against my ear as he strokes his fingers through my hair.

“Should I not have brought you here? Do you want to go back?”

By his tone, I know he means it. With a word from me, we’ll be back on the highway and headed straight home. He’s proven time and time again that he’ll always take my comfort into account, patiently waiting for me to catch up.

I nuzzle into him, breathing in his deep sandalwood scent, then meet his gaze, giving him my most reassuring smile. “No, I don’t want to go. I think I’m just a little tired.”

His eyes search mine before he nods. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable while I get our things from the truck.”

He gestures for me to sit on the sofa, and I climb on, tucked into the corner with my feet pulled under me.

“The doors are going to be open for a bit, so it might get chilly.” Cole grabs a blanket from the back of the couch anddrapes it over me, then leans down to light a log in the fireplace before walking out toward the car.

It’s surreal being here, in a place I would never have imagined being invited, with a guy I’d never imagined would be interested in me. I cut off those thoughts and pull the blanket higher as I rest against the armrest. I promised I wouldn’t be so hard on myself. That I would finally accept the good things that have been happening in my life. I moved across the country to get away from the past, and I will not let it hold me back.

Cole comes back, his warm breath fanning over my forehead before soft lips press against my skin.

“Are you nervous?” he hums against my neck, his nose running up the column until he grazes my ear. “I can help you with that.”

Tingles follow the path, raising goose bumps in their wake.

His startling green eyes are as deep as the forest in the warm light. “I can’t tell you how delicious you look wrapped up on my couch. Like a gift just waiting to be unwrapped.”

Warmth fills my veins at his words, and I open the blanket and spread my knees in invitation.

He groans deep in the back of his throat and climbs between them, his weight pressing me down into the cushions. His thumb runs along my bottom lip, and I suck it into my mouth, causing his hips to grind into me.

“You’re already hard.” My voice is a whisper as he rocks his hips.

“Of fucking course I am. I finally have you all to myself.” He leans in and kisses me until I surrender to him. His warmth takes over, chasing away any remaining chill.

“You’re beautiful,” he hums, then takes my breath again, filling my mouth. Our movements grow frantic with each time his cock rubs against my clit. I cling to him, his shirt balled up in my fist, but it’s not enough. I need to hold him, feel his skinagainst mine. I tug at the shirt until he sits up, wearing a cocky smile.

It’s well-earned. My heart nearly stops as the fabric clears his chest, revealing row upon row of defined muscles. No matter how many times I see him, I can never get used to it. His tanned skin glows in the soft light, and it feels unfair that he’s so freaking hot.

I wrap my hands around my middle, stopping him from lifting my shirt.

“I think we should leave it on.”

He raises one dark brow, then leans forward, kissing my hands, before peeling them away one at a time. I swallow hard as his hand travels under my shirt, tracing the roundness of my stomach, then moves upward. He cups my breast and squeezes, drawing out my gasp.

“Don’t you dare hide your body from me.”

Within seconds, my shirt’s over my head, leaving me exposed, but instead of feeling self-conscious, his dark gaze warms me to the core. He bites the corner of his lip as he takes me in. “You’re perfect.”

My skin flushes with his words. I know I’m anything but perfect, but that doesn’t stop the ache in my lower stomach.

I arch my head, falling back, giving in. “Touch me.”

“Fuck yes,” he growls, mouth descending on my lace-covered nipples. I’d worn this bra for him, but nothing could prepare me for the way his hot tongue soaking the fabric would make me feel.

With each stroke of his tongue, I press my hips up, no longer able to control their movements. A tiny voice in the back of my head reminds me we’re in the living room and we should not be doing this, but I have no will to listen.

His hand slides under my waistband and panties, moving directly to my core. Thick fingers slide through my folds,spreading my wetness until I’m soaked with it. I barely have a second to breathe before he’s pushing two thick fingers into me, stealing my breath.

“Cole,” I gasp, only driving him further.

His fingers stroke deeper, filling me completely. “That’s it. Say my name. Tell me what you need.”

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