Page 39 of The Forbidden Trio

When he lifted her and turned, pressing her back against the door, she let out a moan. She’d always loved the way he handled her—as if she weighed nothing, yet knowing she wasn’t fragile, that she could take some roughness.

She liked it rough.

He grabbed both her wrists in one of his big hands and raised them over her head, held them against the wood door. Pressing against her with his hips, essentially trapping her with his body, he pulled back to demand, his tone harsh with desire, “Janie. You know me. You know what I am. I have to ask you for your consent. Say yes. Or tell me to stop right now.”

“Cole…”

“Tell me. Tell me to stop. Or tell me yes.”

“God, Cole…yes.”

He pressed her harder against the door, his breath warm on her cheek. “Say it again,” he ordered.

“Yes.”

His free hand went to her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple through the silk and the lace. She moaned.

“Again,” he said.

“Yes.”

He bent to nip at her lower lip, and she groaned. He slid a hand down and cupped her wet sex hard through her jeans.

“Say it like you mean it, Janie girl.”

“Damn it! Yes, Cole. Please. Comeon.”

She arched into his hand, desire making her shake all over, and heard a low, rough chuckle from him before he took her mouth once more. No more games—it was hard and savage now. Lips, teeth and tongues, their bodies writhing. He paused only long enough to ram into her with his hips, shoving her farther up the door.

“Ah!” she gasped against his mouth.

He only lowered his head and kissed her neck, licking and biting, sending shivers through her system, like tiny sparks of light and heat. She needed him so badly it hurt, a hard ache between her thighs.

“Christ, you taste so good,” he murmured, pausing to slide her blouse over her head. Then,

“Jesus, baby. Fucking beautiful. Need you naked.Now.”

He tore at her bra and it was on the floor in seconds, then he bent to unzip her boots and pull them off. All she could do was hang onto him, her hands braced on his broad shoulders—she could feel them flex under her hands.

“Shirt, Cole,” she murmured, and he stood long enough to pull it over his head. Underneath he was all hard, muscular man and beautiful ink—her favorite combination. And ink had never looked so good on any other man.

She reached out and smoothed her hands over his chest, his arms, down over his stomach. Lower.

“Fuck, Janie,” he growled, pushing her up against the door again, then yanking her jeans down over her legs, leaving her in nothing but her pink lace panties. “Oh, baby,” he said, an expression of awe on his face.

That was the last thing she heard as he took her breasts in his hands. He cupped them, squeezed, rubbed his thumbs over the nipples, and she cried out as pleasure shot through her.

“Ah, God!”

He did it again, and again and again, while she writhed against the door, her hands wrapped behind his warm neck.

“Stay still,” he ordered, and she tried, but when he bent to take one nipple into his hot, wet mouth she nearly came.

He held her down with one hand on her hip as he sucked her nipple, held it between his teeth and teased the tip with his tongue.

“Ah, Cole… please…”

She was soaking wet, her clit throbbing in time with his tongue on her nipple. She tried to pull his head closer, but he grabbed her hands in one of his and held them tight enough to hurt. Just a little. Just enough. She felt his command as thoroughly as she ever had. And she loved it. She was already panting and on the edge of coming when he let go of her hands and went down on his knees, tearing at her panties. The lace let go with a ripping sound, but she didn’t care. She needed him to touch her there. He pulled again at the fabric, but it held. He moved in with his teeth, nipping at her flesh, and in moments the shredded fabric fell to the floor. His hand went back to her hip as he dove in.

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