Page 68 of Beautiful Secrets
And if this had been the only time he had ever looked at me like that, I don’t know if I would still want more.
But it isn’t.
I catch him looking at me like that all the time.
Of course, it could be my imagination.
If it is, I don’t care.
Cole ducks forward and slides his hands under my ass, kissing me as he lifts me from the ottoman.
I moan into his mouth, only vaguely aware that he’s carrying me off somewhere.
Something soft but firm hits my back a moment later as he lays me down on one of the daybeds filling this space.
His hand glides between my back and the couch, his kiss not slowing once as he tugs down my zipper.
I’m losing myself in his expert tongue and passionate lips—so much so that it’s only when my bare feet touch the couch that I realize he’s taken off my shoes.
He props my feet flat on the couch, hiking up my knees before lowering his body between my legs. I clamp my thighs against his hard body, forcing him closer to me, until his stomach is sliding over my clit.
But the dress is in the way, and as if he realizes that the same moment I do, Cole grabs the fabric and hitches it up until it gathers around my waist.
He presses his forehead against mine, breaking our kiss to look down between our bodies. His fingers tease one of my tight nipples a moment before his mouth closes over the bud.
I arch into his mouth, twisting and wriggling under him as that heady sensation spreads through me. When it becomes almost too intense, I grab at his shoulders and try to push him away.
Which is a mistake.
Cole lets out a low growl, snatches my hands, and presses them into the cushion above my head, rendering me powerless. So instead of fighting him off, I have no choice but to let him drive me to the point of pain as he nips and grazes his teeth over first one nipple, then the next.
His hips grind against mine, his hard cock pressing against my entrance despite my underwear or his pants.
My core reacts by clenching so tight, I doubt he’d be able to get a finger inside me if he wanted. Hot, aching throbs pulse through me the longer he teases my nipples without paying any attention to my pussy or my clit.
The pressure from his weight is not enough, even when I start bucking against him to try and get him to hit the right spot.
Cole grabs one of my ankles and sits back on his knees. With one hand pressing on my solar plexus, keeping me flush with the day bed, he lifts my leg straight up and starts nipping at my ankle.
I moan, writhing as much as I can—as I dare—at those feathery rushes of pleasure.
But now that my hands are free, I don’t need him touching my clit just right—I can do it just fine.
I shove my hand down the front of the pink panties he bought me and start massaging my clit.
Cole bites my ankle hard enough to make me gasp and then knocks my leg aside. With a growl that sounds more animal than human, he shoves apart my thighs as far as they’ll go.
“Sweet Jesus, woman,” he mutters.
With an absent kiss to one knee, he slips a finger behind my underwear and draws the fabric to one side, exposing my pussy.
I squirm violently and immediately try to close my legs, but I stop when he drags down his zip and takes out his cock again.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck,fuck.
He starts stroking himself, his eyes darting up only once to rake me with a ravenous look before settling on my pussy again.
