Page 37 of No Words
“Please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for.
“Not yet,” Cole says firmly, withdrawing his touch completely.
I whimper at the loss. He shifts his weight, positioning himself between my spread thighs, his powerful frame looming over mine, his forest-green eyes lock onto mine, intense and possessive, refusing to let me look away.
He enters me with agonizing slowness, each inch a deliberate invasion that has my back arching to try to gain more friction. Cole watches my face, noting every expression as pleasure and slight discomfort battle across my features. His jaw tightens with restraint, the cords in his neck standing out as he maintains his measured pace.
“Breathe through it,” he commands softly, one hand sliding beneath my lower back to adjust the angle. “That’s it, Molly. Take me.”
I feel impossibly full as he continues his relentless advance, stretching me to my limits. My fingers clutch desperately at the sheets since I can’t reach for him, my restraints keeping me spread and vulnerable beneath his powerful body. When he finally seats himself completely within me, we both freezefor a breathless moment, connected in the most intimate way possible.
When he moves, it’s with a restrained force that makes the headboard creak and strain against the wall. Each thrust tests the limits of my restraints, the leather cuffs digging into my wrists and ankles as my body tries to move with him but remains firmly fixed to the bedposts. His hands grip my hips, angling me perfectly for his relentless pace.
“You’re mine,” he growls against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, the word punched out of me with each powerful movement of his hips. “I’m yours.”
“You were made for this. Made to have me inside you, taking everything I give you.”
Each word strikes something feral inside me, something I never knew existed until this moment. My body responds to his voice almost as much as his touch, clenching around him with each filthy promise he whispers.
“I want to feel you come around my cock,” he demands, his rhythm never faltering. “Let me feel how good I make you feel.”
When I don’t immediately come, his hand slides between our bodies, finding the exact spot that makes my vision blur. His fingers move in deliberate circles, perfectly timed with each powerful thrust.
“Please,” I beg, not recognizing my voice anymore. “Cole, please, I need?—”
“Tell me,” he commands, slowing his movements to a torturous pace. “Say exactly what you need.”
Words I never thought I’d say spill from my lips, explicit and desperate.
“Fuck me harder,” I gasp, shocking myself with my directness. “Make me yours. I want to feel your touch everywhere, want you to mark me, claim me, ruin me for anyoneelse.” The raw honesty of my desires leaves me breathless, but I can’t stop the flood of confessions. “I need you to make me come, need to feel you come inside me. Please, Cole, I’m begging you.” By the time he increases his pace again, I’m a trembling, incoherent mess, tears streaming down my face from the crushed intensity.
“Now,” he orders, his fingers moving faster. “Come for me now.”
My body obeys as if it belongs to him, pleasure crashing through me in pulses so intense I strain against the restraints, back arching off the bed. He follows immediately after, his release punctuated by my name on his lips.
“You belong to me,” Cole says against the side of my neck, his hips driving forward with each word, emphasizing his claim. “Every. Inch. Of. You.”
In this moment, with my world narrowed to his voice and his touch, those words don’t feel like possession. They feel like protection. Like a promise. Like coming home to a place that’s always been waiting for me.
When he finally releases the restraints, I feel strangely weightless, as if I might float away without them anchoring me in place. He gathers me against him, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
“The woman I was doesn’t exist anymore,” I murmur into the quiet between us.
Cole’s hand strokes slowly up my spine. “And who are you now?”
Before I can answer, a sharp beep from the communications equipment cuts through the moment. Cole is instantly alert, reaching for the device while keeping me close with his other arm.
“Killian’s team,” he explains, scanning the encrypted message. “Backup guys are en route, but they’ve spottedmovement in the east. Alessio’s men are closing in from two directions.”
My body tenses, but, surprisingly, fear doesn’t follow. Instead, a strange calm settles over me. Clarity.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, already reaching for my clothes. “Evacuation?”
Cole studies me, seeming to weigh something in his mind. “That would be the safest option.”
“Safe isn’t working,” I say, pulling on my shirt. “I spent years building cases, following rules, and Alessio still walks free. I’m tired of being hunted. It’s time we became the hunters.”
