by Autumn Grey
I’m ready to beg him to make me feel better. Fill this hollow feeling in my chest. I pull back enough for him to see my mouth. “I need you too. So freaking bad. Please, Cole. Make me feel whole again.”
We still have a lot to talk about, but those issues are minute at the moment, compared to the hunger tearing us apart. I don’t care if he doesn’t touch me again after today. All I know is that my body has been waiting to reconnect with his all these years. I’m not about to push him away.
He takes my hand and pulls me into my room and then kicks the door shut with his foot. My body is being pushed against a hard wall, and an even harder body presses into mine. It’s dark in the room. I’m not even sure how he knows where the wall is. Maybe men have a feel for these things. Like their inner “sex-against-the-wall” compass activates the second their brains switch to sex mode. His large hands grab my backside and lift me up. His mouth is on my neck, kissing me, nipping me, sucking me.
Oh holysweetmotherofbabyjesuspleasepleaseplease! I’m three seconds from spontaneous combustion and I haven’t written my will yet. Whoa. I can’t breathe. I need to breathe. I wiggle out of his arms and dart away in the dark.
Stumbling around in the dark, my knee hits my bed and I fall forward, roll around and sit up. Now that I found my bearings, I tap the surface until I find the night stand, the lamp switch and turn it on. I blink several times to adjust my eyes to the sudden light.
Cole is still standing near the door, his chest heaving. “Nor?”
“Give me a damn second. I just need a second to think without your hands on me.”
He shifts his weight to his right foot. Doesn’t say a word for about five seconds. “Do you want me to go?”
Do I? The Bailey’s and Coke made me feel good. But Cole’s kisses made me feel great. For those ten seconds his mouth was on my skin, I felt alive. I forgot everything. Just him and his talented lips and tongue.
I shake my head.
“Come here.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Apparently, demanding Cole never left the building.
“Nor. I won’t tell you again.”
His face is dangerously dark. There’s so much lust in his eyes, so much pain. Hunger. I can’t tell where one emotion ends and the other begins.
I crawl out of the bed and go to him.
“Did you ever even love me?”
Whoa! Where is this coming from? It started as desperate need to fill a void in each other, but now we are talking about feelings.
I stare at this man standing in front of me. Hurt and uncertainty have joined the turmoil in his face.
I did that to him. As much as I wanted to save him, I broke him and took away the trust he had for me. He’d once saved me and ended up in prison. I saved him but ended up with the wrong brother. But while we did that to keep each other safe, it drove a wedge between us, separating us. Taking a deep breath, I nod and shift my gaze to stare at my feet. I can’t afford to let him see how much I miss him.
How much I need him.
How much the past years have created a crater so deep inside my soul it would take a lot of forgiving on his part to make me whole.
I shut my eyes, gathering the courage I need to tell him what I’ve kept locked inside me all these years. It might be too late for us, but I want him to know. I need him to know.
A firm grip around my chin jolts me and my eyes snap open to find his face mere inches from mine.
I lift my hands to sign, but they’re shaking too much. I give up and angle my face, making sure he can read my lips. “I didn’t just love you, Cole. I worshiped the ground you walk on and I never stopped. I know you think I stopped loving you. But you’re wrong. How could I stop loving that big part of me that makes me who I am today?”
His face goes blank. His entire body goes still. Everything about him screams “Run, Nor”. The only reaction I get from him is his eyes, slowly moving down my body. He doesn’t need to touch me with his hands. His stare is doing all the touching I need to bring my body back to life.
Pride is a thing of the past. When it comes to Cole, I have none.
Suddenly, he pounces swiftly. I yelp in surprise. His strong hands are on my shoulder, walking me back until I feel my back hit a wall again. His fingers slide down my arms in firm strokes and finally rest on my hips.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, squirming against his tight hold, wanting out at the same time, needing his touch on me more than I need to breathe.
His hands leave my body long enough to sign, “Unless you want to wake up the girls and have them find you flat on your back with my cock inside you, you need to keep your mouth shut.”
Jesus, why am I turned on by his words?
My body jolts when his fingers lift my dress, his callused palms moving up my thighs. He continues to touch me, his eyes holding mine captive and I’m burning with every touch, panting when his fingers wrap around my neck, his thumb stroking the length of it as he absorbs the vibrations caused by my moans and groans. He’d always had a habit of touching my neck because feeling the vibrations turned him on even more.
He pins me harder with his body as his breathing becomes heavy. Leaning forward, he buries his face in my neck, inhaling me deeply. He traces his tongue along the vein beating erratically there, and I nearly come when he sinks his teeth in my shoulder. His lips latch on that spot, licks it and I jerk when I feel a sharp pain on my butt.
I pull back and glare at him. Did he just spank me? Oh, God, why do I like it so much?
Cole steps back, taking the warmth of his body with him. I bite my cheek to stop my greedy hands from pulling him back.
He lifts his chin and looks at me through hooded eyes. He lifts his hands and signs, “Show me. Show me how much you worship me.”
My thoughts explode into images those words evoke. I start to shake my head.
“Cole—”
His mouth tightens and anger flashes through his face. I snap my mouth shut and inhale deeply, closing the distance between us until we’re standing toe to toe. His body is shooting off some serious heat. He’s coiled tight, I can see his chest rise and fall through the shirt. I lift my head and meet his gaze, my fingers itching to touch him, run across his hair. Closing my eyes, I focus on bringing my raging arousal over this man under control. I’ve missed him so much I’m afraid if I act on what I’m feeling I might not let him go. I don’t realize my hands are touching him until I hear Cole hiss followed by a groan so potent it leaves my legs shaking. My eyes snap open to find him leaning his cheek into my hand, his mouth parted in pleasure. Gone is the furious look on his face.
God, he is beautiful.
I continue tracing my fingers around his face, down his throat, reacquainting myself with his body. When I reach his chest, my hand freezes at the feel of something hard and round attached to his nipple. His eyes peel open when my fingers stay there too long and he raises a brow at me. Is he wearing a nipple ring? That’s hot. I pluck it to see his reaction. He groans deeply, biting his bottom lip, breathing erratically. He grabs my hips and flips me around, pushing his front to my back. He lowers his head, licks my neck from the base of my throat to the sensitive spot between my ear and neck. I’m nothing more than a bundle of nerves.
Something catches the corner of my eye. Josh’s cologne. Shit. Crap. Shit. Josh. I don’t want Cole to keep on thinking his brother is the villain in the story.
I spin around and push at his chest with my hands. “We need to talk first.”
“I didn’t ask you to talk. You said you worshiped me. Show me.”
“No.” I step back, raising my chin “I’m not going to show you anything.”
I whirl around to leave the room and head for the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. Wrong move. I should have known Cole wouldn’t let me walk away. Strong hands grip my hips and I’m flung around and slammed into a body that’s hot, hard and unforgiving. He grasps my wrists and yanks them up, shackling them with one hand while his
free one moves around to cup one breast, roughly squeezing. My heart triples its pace and I buck my hips to throw him off. I never thought I’d ever feel anything but love for this man, but right now, fear is ripping through my veins as I fight to get away from him. The more I squirm to get him off me, the harder he pushes me to the wall. I can feel his erection, huge and unyielding on the small of my back as he thrusts his pelvis into me. Heat settles between my legs as memories of him inside me bombard my head. I remember the last time he was inside me, he’d taken me roughly, his teeth latching on any places they could find as we hid inside the prison warden’s bathroom. When I got home that night, I’d shed down my dress and gone to the shower. I’d nearly come again when I saw the red marks caused by his teeth and rough beard on my breasts and thighs.
I close my eyes, shuddering, letting that memory wash over me. Cole seems to sense my body’s reaction. His fingers around my wrist tighten, his mouth latches on my earlobe and sucks it as his other hand leaves my breast and slides down my body, under my dress and cups me between my legs. He moves his finger back and forth before pushing my underwear aside and slipping a digit inside me. I moan just as his hand leaves my wrist and circles my neck, his thumb pressing along the vein. He groans, thrusting his fingers deeper into me while his mouth leaves my ear and he drops his forehead on my shoulder, his breathing ragged.
Does this turn him on? Forcing me to submit to him? And the big question is, why on earth is it turning me on? Why am I fighting this? My pre-prison Cole had been gentle, yet demanding. This post-prison Cole is nowhere near gentle and a whole lot of demanding to the point of ruthless. And God, I love it. Maybe I’m still suffering from the dry spell I’ve been in for nine years. The last person to ever touch me intimately was Cole. It has always been him. I lift my forehead from the wall and try to turn around, wanting to tell him this. Wanting to do something to calm him the hell down. He spreads my feet slightly apart with one of his. Shoves a hand under my dress. Thrusts another finger inside me and I get even wetter. He sweeps my hair over one shoulder, which has come undone after all of Cole’s manhandling, before he sinks his face into my neck and traces his tongue upward, bringing goose bumps to life all over my skin. He pulls his fingers out of me abruptly, swings me around to face him and his mouth is on mine even before I can draw in my breath. I don’t fight him. I give in, circling my hands around his neck while raising to the tip of my toes to return the kiss. Now his hands are running all over my body again, touching me as if we’ve never been apart. They remember every part of me, what made me sigh, what made me writhe in pleasure, and his mouth still remembers how to play with mine. He pulls back, his chest rising and falling in exertion, and looks at me with dark eyes. Gone is the tortured look he was wearing when he arrived here. In its place a lust so furious and dark, it reminds me of the way the sky looks right before the storm descends.
With his gaze still on mine, he hooks his fingers around my panties and yanks them down.
Shit. I’m so confused. Why am I so conflicted? I want what he’s about to give me, but I wanted it on my terms, and not his. He taps my ankle for me to lift my leg. I stare down at him.
He sighs. “We both know you will do it sooner or later. I prefer sooner. Lift your legs or I will do it for you.”
I want a release badly. After years of loneliness, emptiness, I need him to fill me. Take away the ache and pain, the loss in me. Sometimes feeling lonely is not because you don’t have friends, or someone to snuggle with. Sometimes feeling lonely is when you don’t have someone who can touch you in places you’ve never been touched before. Places only the person who owns your soul can reach, fill you, calm you.
“You love it when I talk to you like this. You are breathless and your pussy is dripping for me. And when my fingers were inside you, you clamped down on them so hard I felt it in my dick. This is my last warning. Lift your legs.”
I do as I’m told. Cole bunches the white cotton panties in his hands and brings them to his nose. He inhales them deeply before shoving them into his pocket.
Oh. My. God.
That is the most arousing thing I’ve ever seen. My face is a thousand shades of hot as I gape at this man in front of me.
He grabs my hips again and he slides me down his body. His eyes flicker to the door then back to my lips.
“Go lock the door.”
Yes, Sir.
I stumble toward the door and flip the lock shut. When I shift around to face him and gasp to find him standing close, so close the bulge in his pants rubs against my stomach. He grasps my hand and drags me to the bed. Then he turns me around, pressing his hand on the small of my back and urges me to bend forward. Cool air brushes over my backside as my skirt is thrown over my back. The sound of the zipper being lowered zings through the air and my breath hitches in anticipation. I look over my shoulder, making sure he can see my lips.
“Crap. Condoms. And don’t you dare tell me you’ll pull out.”
His ears and cheeks turn pink. “Are you on birth control?”
I nod. I’d started taking the pills right after the birth of Cora and Joce. I love my daughters and will do anything for them. But I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared again. Birth control pills became my religion.
“I don’t have a girlfriend. I haven’t had sex in five years,” he confesses unabashedly.
“What? Your—” My gaze moves down to see his crotch, his erection long and hard, pointing toward his stomach, “—Batman hasn’t had action all these years?”
His lips twitch. His big hands move down to take himself in his hands, running his palm up and down in firm strokes.
Jesus.
“Are you still calling my cock, Batman?” He shrugs. “I’m clean. I got tested after leaving prison and right after my last relationship. I like to get a handle on things.”
As soon as I nod my head, he bounds forward. I’m on my back in two seconds flat and his erection is teasing my opening. He slams into me without warning and I scream, my body overloaded with bliss and slight discomfort. He grabs my arms and slides them above my head, and then drops his forehead to mine. Our hot breaths mingle, our bodies coiled, waiting for release.
Holy shit.
He feels so good. Nine years without him, without his touch and suddenly he is there, blowing my world to pieces. I’m gulping for breath. His hands on my wrists grip me and he groans when he pushes himself inside me excruciatingly slow, hissing when he pulls out. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Sweat beads his forehead. Veins popping on his neck. The muscles hidden beneath his shirt bunch up and flex with his every movement. He focuses his gaze on mine. The longer we stare at each other, the more intense he takes me, fast and rough. Unable to hold his hot gaze and the pressure building inside me, I feel my orgasm rushing forward. It builds up and my breath becomes rougher. Cole stops moving, hooks his arm around my waist and lowers us on the bed. Then he buries his head in my neck and I feel his teeth on my shoulder as he commences the kind of torture that’s leaving me breathless. I come hard, pressing my mouth on to his arm and scream. He picks up his pace, desperate, jerky thrusts of his hips. His hands tighten around my body as he comes hard.
He pulls out and stands up, before proceeding to tuck himself back in his pants. The dark look on his face is gone, replaced by a look I can only call indifferent. I can’t look at that face, especially after the sex we just shared. I roll out of bed as decently as a person who isn’t wearing underwear can do and I pull up my dress.
“Give me my underwear.”
He shakes his head. “I’m keeping it.”
I gape, watching him stalk to the door and unlock it. He stops and glances over his shoulder at me. “I’ll see you when I return from Boston.”
He leaves.
With my underwear in his pocket and no goodbye.
I guess we both got what we wanted. This wasn’t a souls reconnecting kind of sex. I’m not about to complain though, because I needed this.
I turn my
head and meet my reflection in the closet mirror. Gone is the pale, stricken look that has been a constant on my face since Josh’s condition worsened, replaced by flushed cheeks and bright eyes. A woman who has been thoroughly taken and had a good time while at it.
I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT MOVING back home. I’m not sure when I came to that decision. Probably between finding out I was the father to the prettiest girls in the world and having my misconception about my feelings for Nor blown to pieces. The electric current between us, the rush of kissing, the euphoria I felt when I was buried balls deep inside her. It’s fucking everything. The night when I dropped by her house before flying to Boston, I thought I’d feel relief after fucking her. I was a complete mess.
Fuck.
I was an animal to her. I fucked her, feeding on her pain and her feeding on mine. I’d been so caught up in her. Feeling her sweet pussy wrapped around my cock made me forget about Josh and soothed my confused state of mind. As soon as she opened the door, and I saw her in the same black dress she’d been wearing during the funeral, her eyes red from crying, I wanted to make it better. The second my cock touched her pussy, I knew there was no going back. Two weeks away from her, and my hunger for her skin on mine is enormous. It’s a miracle it hasn’t swallowed me alive.
I miss who Nor and I used to be. Being away from her and the girls is complete torture. I can’t stop thinking about them. I miss them so much, even though the girls and I have been chatting on Skype every night since I left.
All I know is that, there is no fucking way I’m staying away from my girls again, which is why I’ve been looking for apartments to rent close to Nor’s house. Earlier today, I called the realtor who is in charge of the property and made all the arrangements to visit the place when I flew back home. I finally feel confident enough to be a dad without running to Google every time panic sets in. I realized that being a parent doesn’t come in a manual. You just have to accept it in your heart and the rest will slide in place.