Page 70 of A Photo Finish
“Cole . . .” I tangle my fingers into his dark hair and give him a gentle tug.
He pauses only long enough to pepper a few sweet kisses right along my inner thigh.
“Don’t stop.”
He chuckles, and it rolls across my skin like electricity. So deep and so private. Every time he laughs with me, shares that pleasure, it feels like more. He doesn’t just hand out laughs like they mean nothing. With him, it’s a true sign of affection. And I eat it up.
When he slides two fingers into me again and curls themjustright, I fall apart.
“Cole!” My legs shake as I clamp them around his head, and my fingers twine in his hair, squeezing in time with the pulsing of my body. Pure heat surges through me as my orgasm overtakes me, making my back arch to its limits.
I swear I see stars.
But as I come down, I don’t feel boneless. I feel ravenous. I want more. I want to watch Cole hit that high. I want to see him come apart for me.
I want him inside me.
My fingers dig into his toned shoulders, trying to get purchase, but they’re clammy and just end up sliding over every muscle. “Get up here. I need you.”
He looks up at me from between my legs, lips glistening, eyes wide and dark like coal. “Violet, it’s okay. We can go slow.” He unwraps his arms and slides his hands up the top of my thighs, gaze flitting down to my pussy again.
I grab his wrist and pull him toward me right as I lean down and capture his mouth. He groans as my hands roam his shoulders. I can’t get enough of his shoulders. Big and round and broad.
Holding him close, I whisper against his cheek, “I think I’m done going slow. I’ve wanted you for long enough.”
With a deep growl, he grabs me as he pushes himself up into the chair and flips our positions. Now I’m straddling him just like I was last night in the forest shelter. Except this time, there’s nothing between us, and the length of him is pressing right against me. I can’t help but rotate my hips, to slide myself on him, to finally feel his skin on mine.
He stares at his hands wrapped around my waist and lets his gaze trail up over my body. “Lose the tank top.” His voice is all heat now. Any hint of uncertainty has fled his tone.
I pull it off instantly, not feeling shy about being completely naked in front of Cole. Not at all. I’ve been here before. I knew less about him then—less about the type of man he is. Because if I’ve learned anything in the last month, it’s that Cole Harding is agoodman. Broken, and sensitive, and so fucking good.
I also didn’t have the benefit of seeing the way he’s looking at me right now, which is with pure awe. Unadulterated lust. Intense hunger.
“I don’t have a condom.” He doesn’t even look up at me as he says it.
I push up on my knees, hovering over his lap, feeling the head of his cock bobbing against my inner thigh.
“I’m on birth control. I don’t care. I want to feel you inside me.”
“Jesus Christ, Violet.” The pads of his fingers pulse on my waist as he lifts me to line us up perfectly. “I’m going to watch you take every inch,” he mutters as he lowers me back down down on him. I feel the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, as I glide down the length of his cock slowly, his fingers digging into me tightly. I gasp with the feeling. With the knowledge that he’s really inside of me. “Good girl. Every fucking inch.” With the brazenness of his words.
His voice is raw, and my nerves are frayed. I want him to undo me and never put me back together again. We both look down at where we’re joined. Nothing between us. Just the two of us. Together.
Finally.
His grip finds my chin, and he kisses me roughly, with so much passion that it winds me. I taste myself on his tongue as it swipes into my mouth, and I move my hips in time with the pace he sets.
Every pass of his tongue matches the swivel of my pelvis. His spare hand roams my body, leaving a trail of blistering heat. I feel every ridge of him, every thick inch, as his hips buck and meet me, shoving his length into me with growing abandon.
We clash. We melt. We heal.
I don’t need poetic words or grand apologies from Cole. That’s not the man he is. Just this. Opening up to me like this—loving me like this—it’s how he shows me. The phraseactions speak louder than wordshas never applied to another human more aptly.
Cole Harding wouldn’t be fucking me like this if he didn’t care about me, and I know it. I feel like a queen writhing in his lap as he pulls his mouth from mine and drags it down my throat and over my collarbones.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he captures my nipple in his sinful mouth. His teeth graze, and I hiss. “And so fucking precious.” The flat of his tongue soothes the sting. And then he glances up at me, looking completely and utterly blown away. He looks like he’s worshipping at my altar in this darkened living room. His hands hover shakily over my ribs. “You are so fucking precious to me.”
I can’t keep my hands from fluttering over his face, my fingers from tracing that scar that cuts through his brow, as I look back down at him, knowing I’ll never want to let him go after this. “Don’t let me go this time.”
