Page 77 of A Photo Finish
I hold one hand up to stop him. “Cole. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” His voice is low. “What’s wrong is I can’t stop thinking about you. And those perfect tits. And that tight little cunt. And those pretty little lips.”
I moan and feel my face go pink. He may have been vulnerable last night, butthisis the Cole I remember. Gruff and filthy, and so damn hot. The man who could push me to my limits—exactly where I want to go.
I try to say something, but my lips just open and close like a fish out of water. Like a girl out of her league.
“Do you have panties on this time?” His intense eyes scan me, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.
I go pure red, from head to toe, and look around us. The stall is lower than the alleyway with no bedding in it, just rubber mats, and we’re pushed up into the corner behind the front wall. No one would see us unless they specifically came into the stall.
I roll my shoulders back and look him square in the eye, refusing to be shy Violet. I shed that skin a long time ago—at least, in my head I did. “Yes.”
“Turn around.”
“What?” I feel my eyes bug out of their sockets.
“I said turn around.” My blood hums through my veins as I take a shaky breath and turn to face the wooden wall of the stall. “You drive me crazy. Do you know that?” He steps in close, and I feel his heat along the entire length of my back, his breath across the nape of my neck.
“Good,” I reply honestly. “Serves you right.”
His breath hisses out, and he finally puts his hands on me, right where my waist nips in. And then he’s taking fistfuls of my dress, pulling it up, the hemline tickling the backs of my bare thighs as he does. “I should spank you for talking like that.”
I moan and shimmy my ass, brushing it up against the hard bulge at the front of his pants.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
One minute, I’m in my element: galloping toward the finish line, winning a race, waiting on results, and weighing in; the next, I’m bent over and rubbing up on the man I can’t stop thinking about. Getting spanked for being mouthy. His palm lands swift and sure against the bare cheek of my ass, and I can’t help the needy whimper that spills out over my lips. The sting blooms into heat, and I love the feel of it.
Today is a good day.
One of his palms presses between my shoulders, and he kicks my feet apart with perfect authority, complete control. Over himself and over me.
A thrill races down my spine, and I submit under his touch, allowing him to bend me forward. Is it okay for me to be fiercely independent everywhere except when his hands are on me? Because right now all I want to do is exactly what he tells me and just let go for a little while, to not try so hard for a few minutes. It’s addictive. Freeing.
My breath comes in choppy spurts as he lays my skirt across my lower back and hooks his fingers into my lacy panties, dragging them down, leaving them stretched between my thighs. He runs his hands over my ass, giving me an appreciative squeeze. “You look downright edible with a little bit of pink on that ass, Violet.” His voice is quiet, but I feel it in my bones. Like his body is speaking right to mine. “But I’ll save that part for when I get you home. Back in my bed where you belong.”
“Fuck. Yes,” is all I can manage before going completely mindless as he slides a couple of fingers between my legs. I usually feel scrawny when I’m naked, unfeminine, but with Cole’s hands on me, I feel like a different woman.
He groans and I shiver as he slides a finger inside me. “You’re wet already. Dirty girl. You do like that, don’t you?”
“You have that effect on me,” I rasp out as I look over my shoulder.
His eyes hold mine, dark and frantic. “Tell me what you want.”
I don’t even need to think about my response. “More. Always more.”
One hand shoots out to grip my chin roughly. His lips crash into mine as he fumbles with his belt and zipper. He shoves his tongue into my mouth. He’s not searching or asking—he’s taking.
And I’m giving.
I feel the blunt end of his cock slide against my seam and moan into his mouth. Suddenly I’m ravenous. Everything is taking too long. Time is moving too slow. I’m greedy.
I arch my back and push myself on him, feeling him slide inside of me. Hard and fast. Just like the kiss. Relentless and unforgiving, that’s what we are in this moment. Two bodies joined. Two people running at each other without the sense to stop before they crash.
Our mouths part, and I turn back toward the wall, dropping my head as he slams into me. One of his hands grips my hip, and the other slides firmly up over my back. His calloused fingers hover over my neck, right to the base of my skull, before his grip wraps gently around my throat, essentially holding me in place.
