Page 30 of The War Revision
I feel like there’s a recurring theme here.
When he appears on the threshold forty-five minutes later, a couple of chairs are upside down, the sofa is against the wall on the other side of the room, and the floor is covered in cookie crumbs. I brought one of my extra record players—I have five of them—and Sinatra’s deep voice resounds in the living room.
Cole drops his leather bag heavily on the floor. “What the fuck?” His eyes dart around the room.
“Sorry, can’t wait on my knees in this mess. The crumbs hurt my knees.”
I’m sitting naked on the table. Leaning back with one hand behind my back to support me, and a glass of red wine in the other.
He throws a quick glance my way and then focuses again on the room. How can he possibly do that? I’m stunning!
“What happened?”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to come here and use Predator on me.” I place the glass on the table, as far away as possible, and brush the tips of my fingers over my chest. Part of me is maybe trying to distract him from the fact that I didn’t catch Kate and Meghan, even after turning his living room into a disaster hot spot.
He shakes his head. “I know there’s a perfectly stupid explanation, but I can’t seem to find it.”
Really? Am I invisible? “There is, but do you really want to waste time on that?” I open my legs wide to give him a better view of my hard cock while I start to stroke it slowly.
His eyes finally land back on me. He runs his hand over his clean-shaven jaw and watches me. Really watches me. Like he is examining every part of me. The blond strands falling around my shoulders, the two purple butterflies inked on my neck and collarbone, the barbells in my nipples and down my happy trail to my throbbing dick.
While his gaze continues taking me in, he starts unbuttoning his vest, and with a shrug of his shoulders, he lets it fall at his feet. Then it’s time for his white shirt. He opens the first four buttons and then pulls the fabric out of his pants in a movement that makes his arms bulge in the most tempting fashion. When the shirt follow the vest, he kicks off his shoes and gets rid of the socks.
Damn, his torso is incredible. So much smooth, virgin skin. Hairless chest with nice, high pecs and six-pack abs I want to explore with my tongue. I squeeze the base of my cock, afraid to finish this before it even starts.
Cole yanks open his pants but doesn’t take the offending garment off. Nope, the bastard drags them down only slightly, giving me only a peek at the sexy as fuck V and the blond hair disappearing under the waistband of his briefs. His cock is eagerly pushing against the gray fabric, and I can see the slick head trying to get out of the tight confinement.
My fried brain has given the reins to my dick which craves only one thing: Predator inside me.
I open my legs further, bending one knee and planting the foot on the table. His gaze goes straight to my slick, loose hole.
“You’ve been busy.” His hands fist at his side and his nostrils flare, but I know by now that that’s his controlled expression. It’s such a turn-on to see him try to fight against his desire, because in the end, he inevitably surrenders to it. And what a fucking pleasurable moment his surrender is for me.
Since he doesn’t attempt to come closer, I decide to push him a bit. Letting go of my cock, I grab the small tube of lube from my side and coat my fingers with it. Then I move my hand back between my legs. I circle my hole with light brushes and alternate them with firm taps on the puckering skin. Goosebumps erupt all over my arms, and my balls start tingling. Soon my breaths speed up, and I part my lips, needing more air.
Then I give life to the longest moan ever uttered.
“Come closer, I’ve been prepping myself for twenty minutes now.” I’m barely able to speak. He still remains unmoving.
Fuck! How do I make him take his frustrations out on my ass?
“Unless you’re all talk and no action.” My smugness is quickly replaced by a cry when I push a finger slowly inside me. My eyes close, not wanting any distraction from the raw bliss I’m experiencing. If a finger turns me into a puddle of lust, what would I become around a thick cock?
In the next second, Cole is on me, and a triumphant smirk appears on my face. His warm chest is against mine. One hand is covering mine on the table, while the other wraps around my wrist and pushes my finger roughly inside me, knuckle deep.
I scream but it’s muffled by Cole’s tongue sinking into my mouth and his lips engulfing mine in a wild kiss. His hand continues mercilessly pumping and I’m seeing stars with how good it feels.
“Is this what you want?” His hoarse voice tugs on something in the pit of my stomach, making my body tight.
“More,” I beg.
He pushes another of my fingers inside and resumes the fucking. He’s landing biting kisses all over my neck and shoulders, triggering uncontrollable shivers that travel up and down my body.
Another finger presses between my ass cheeks. Now I have three, and he hums in approval when it easily slides in. Although it feels amazing to be stretched out by my fingers, I want him. His fingers. His hard and long cock, which is humping my thigh.
“Fuck me,” I half-order, half-beg him, hearing the sucking noises my hole is doing.
Cole leans back, pushing his pants all the way down, and gives my body a lightning-quick scan, halting at my hand thrusting in and out. His eyes are shining with desire.
