Page 121 of L.O.V.E

“He knows it wasn’t your fault.” Cole dusted a finger over my forehead, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, eliciting a full body shiver.

He was so close, his breaths warming my cheeks. Whatever he’d eaten for lunch must’ve been loaded with garlic, but I didn’t care. Cole was in my home, towering over me, and I was safe, warm, and wanted.

He pinched my glasses at the bridge, slid them off my face, and laid them on the coffee table. His dimples popped before he brushed soft kisses on the left corner of my mouth, then the right.

“How’re you feeling?”

“My head hurts.”

Weary eyes studied mine. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“Kiss me again?”

Cole pressed his forehead to mine. Sighed. Kissed my nose. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“My tongue doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“That’s good.”

I urged him to sit next to me, then stood and made a show of shimmying out of my jeans.

“Sunshine, I don’t think we should push it,” he grumbled but made no move to stop me. He wore a scowl, his mood dark.

“I don’t think I can wait another second.” My shirt was next, then my bra. Then my panties.

Cole didn’t move.

I pinched a nipple, rolling the hard flesh between my fingers. “Lose the shirt, Adams.”

In one smooth motion, he removed his T-shirt and tossed it aside. I stepped between his knees, raked my nails down his stomach, then grabbed the hem of his pants. Still, he didn’t move. I quirked a brow, waiting. With a huff, he lifted his hips and jerked his sweats down to his knees.

Commando. Jeez, what a turn on.

His swollen cock fell against his six pack, the sight so erotic my head buzzed. This man was mine. Mine. Mine.

Skin tingling, insides warm and aching, I gripped his shoulders, planted my knees in the cushions at his hips, and nestled my ass in his lap.

He hit me with a heated gaze full of unspoken promises, unnecessary apologies.

Lips parted, cheeks red, he slapped my ass with one hand, his grip tight and assuring. He stroked his cock with the other and lifted me high enough to position himself at my opening, sliding his head through the moisture before pushing inside.

I slammed down, knowing he’d take it slow.

“Jesus. Fuck.” His head hit the back of the couch with a sharp inhale.

I smiled. Slow was not good. Slow would drive me mad, and I’d had enough crazy for one day.

I needed release. I needed lust and sweat and panting and mindless bliss, and I needed Cole out of his head, out of his mind.

Sweet lord, the stretch, the sweet sweet burn, the feral heat of those beautiful eyes, the rabid grip of his hands on my thighs. The rise and fall of that perfectly sculpted chest.

Neither of us stood a chance.

I leaned forward, close enough to taste his breath. “Say it,” I said, almost a beg, mostly a soft plea. I rolled my hips, just a little. “Tell me what I need to hear.”

Something akin to a growl rose in his throat.

I rolled my hips again, and his jaw clenched.

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