“We’ll work it off tomorrow.” I stop eating, dropping my fork and refusing to look at him. He reaches out, placing his hand over mine. I hate that I love it. “In the gym. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and dips his head to hood his eyes. “And…I will offer to correct my mistake this morning.”
“I’m fine,” I lie, suddenly aware of the throbbing pain below my waist, both from his whipping, and the returning need for release I was denied.
“As you wish, Erin.”
We return to eating, but my mind is reeling. Cooper doesn’t say anything else and we’re quiet until his plate is clean and I’m full.
“Can you do it?” I ask in a moment of bravery and carbohydrate-induced comfort.
“Do what?”
“Make women feel good without hurting them?”
He cocks a brow, but runs his index finger over his bottom lip in thought. Isn’t it a simple question? Not for Cooper. He doesn’t answer me, but he does stand up and cross the kitchen to the fridge. When he returns to the table, he has two shot glasses filled with chocolate mousse, topped with a raspberry and sprig of mint. He places them on the table with one small spoon, and drags his chair across the table to sit next to me, his body turned to face me as he watches me carefully.
“What are you going to do?” I ask, swallowing audibly when his knee touches my thigh.
Cooper picks up one of the glasses with the spoon and leans closer to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, gripping my chin so I turn my head to look at him.
He dips his spoon into the mousse and instead of reaching for mine, I watch him. I’m transfixed on the way his strong fingers hold the spoon so delicately, the way he scoops up a portion of mousse so softly it’s almost sensual. When he licks his lips, keeps my gaze locked on his, and raises the spoon to my mouth, I part my lips on instinct. The bottom of the spoon whispers over my bottom lip before the promise of chocolatey heaven touches my tongue. When I close my mouth around the spoon, Cooper retrieves it and slips it into his mouth. I watch as he swallows when I do, then takes another spoonful and slips it into his mouth. I’m paralysed, shocked by how soft this brutal man can be, and lulled into sedation by his seductive aura, the way he smells, the warmth radiating off him, the way he keeps his eyes locked on mine and holds me captive without the need to touch. I don’t want to leave. If Griffin stepped into the kitchen right now, I’d ask him to come back later. Cooper and chocolate. Dark Cooper and light chocolate mousse. His searing, lustful gaze, and the cool, creamy dessert. He swipes the empty spoon over my bottom lip and tells me to lick it. I taste Cooper. It’s like kissing him, only managing to remain conscious enough to know exactly what he’s doing to my body…and knowing I do exactly the same thing to him. He wants me, and it has nothing to do with needing to control me to feel powerful. Whatever he sees in me that meant he took me from my family and the life I thought I loved, his desire for me is genuine, instigated by nothing but fascination, chemistry, and primitive, unapologetic want.
“Am I hurting you now?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss the corner of my mouth.
He sits back, licks his lips, and smiles.
I shake my head.
“Have I made you feel good? Without even touching you?”
I nod. He offers me another spoonful of mousse, but when I open my mouth to accept it, he rests the bottom of the spoon on my teeth and keeps it from me.
“Do you want to know what I’d do if you were to ask me to right the wrong I committed this morning?”
My mouth waters and I nod. I need the chocolate. I need Cooper. His smooth voice, with the rough timbre that connects directly with my racing heart, and the accent—harsh, but smooth, and as low as my inhibitions right now—makes me squirm in my chair.
“After intoxicating you with sweetness, I’d take you upstairs and lay you on the bed. You’ll be sedated but on fire, calm but raging, so fucking aroused you’re soaking, but yet completely at my mercy because you know what I’m going to do to you.”
“Cooper…”
“Swallow,” he says, cutting me off as he feeds me the mousse. “I’d set you alight, with the promise to allow you to explode this time.”
“Cooper…”
“I want to taste your cunt, Erin. I’d lick until you’re trembling. Suck until you’re writhing beneath me. Nibble until you’re screaming my name. I’d take you so high you might never come down.”
I squeeze my thighs together, closing my eyes to listen to him and allow his voice to carry me to a dreamland where going to bed with him is the right thing to do. His lips ghost over mine and I sigh, parting them to allow him to fuse our mouths together. Taking hold of my wrists, Cooper places my hands on the back of his neck and I faintly hear his chair scrape the floor as he moves closer and threads his hands into my hair to hold me where he wants me. Just the taste of him, the warmth, knowing exactly what he wants to do with that mouth, is enough to make my pulse spike, and I flex my fingers against his neck as I lock them together and hold on tight.
“Erin…” he whispers, edging back.
“Right the wrong,” I say, knowing I’ll regret this in the morning, but there’s no time to care now. “I want you to do it, Cooper. Make me feel good.”
“Oh, caterpillar.”
I don’t let him reject this. I won’t let him reject me. He asked me to ask him. He wants me to dig deeper, to understand him like no other has, and I want to do it. Right now, I want to forget that I don’t know this man, that he has me locked up, trapped and frightened. I just want him to make me feel good.
“Please,” I whisper, standing from the chair.
With his hands on my hips, Cooper’s conflict burns into me. Yes, he wanted me to ask him to make this better, but he doesn’t trust me to let him.
“Cooper,” I say, taking his face in my hands, watching him flinch before he relaxes and allows me to straddle his lap. “I want this. I want you. Look into my eyes and you’ll see…I’m not lying.”
God, I’m not. He looks up at me, his grey eyes begging for a connection so strong I can see it in the darkness.
“Erin,” he breathes, before his mouth crushes to mine and he kisses me with so much desperation, a tear falls from my eye.
Cooper hikes up my dress, forcing me to tear my lips from his as he pulls it over my head and tosses it across the room. Taking my wrists, he guides my hands to his shirt, signalling for me to undo the buttons and I comply, hurrying to undo his shirt before pressing my palms flat to his chest. He’s warm, soft and strong, and he hisses when I lower my head to kiss his neck, gliding my hands over his shoulders to ask him to remove his shirt. As my lips choreograph a trail over his jaw and back to his mouth, my hands reach for his belt, parting the leather to reach for the zip and undo his fly.
“Can I?” I ask on a gasp as he nods, already sensing my question was coming, and captures my mouth.
Reaching into his trousers, I take his cock in my hand, moaning into his mouth when I feel how hard he is for me, the trickle of pre-cum running down his shaft to reinforce my actions. I stroke him slowly as I stand, raising myself above him. Cooper takes my hand away, fisting the base of his cock as his other hand grips my hips and I wrap my arms around him. He guides me onto him, nudging my entrance with a groan before I lower myself and take him all. I throw my head back and moan, letting him hold onto me and bury his face in my neck.
“Cooper,” I moan.
He answers with a groan and lifts me, before lowering me back down and clenching his thighs to drive deeper. He sets a slow rhythm, his mouth finding mine, his hands fisting my hair, his cock filling me to the hilt. Sweat settles on his chest and collides with mine, our moans and groans filling the kitchen as the candle wick burns out and submerges us in darkness. No longer able to see him, I’m forced to feel every inch where our bodies are connected and it’s enough to set my heart racing in time with his, my feet press
ing to the floor so I can take control, and…he lets go. He allows my hands to roam his body; he lets me explore him with an eager, confident touch.
“You were right,” I say, my breath hitching when he thumbs my clit and coaxes my body to soar.
“I’m always right, caterpillar.”
He peppers my neck with kisses, licking and sucking as I ride him, holding me tightly to support my weight, and making good on his promise. When he takes my nipple in his mouth and sucks hard, I cry out.
“Come for me, little caterpillar,” he whispers, making me shiver as my skin erupts with searing goosebumps. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, remembering what happened last time.
“No rules,” he answers, making me moan with a hard thrust. “Not right now. Just…just let go.”
“Come with me.” Taking his face in my hands, I force him to look at me, to feel the connection in the darkness of night. “Come with me.”
He growls, but nods, tapping my thighs to tell me to wrap my legs around him when he stands. He carries me across the kitchen, his cock pulsing inside me and keeping me on the edge. I gasp when he lays me on the counter and hooks one of my legs over his shoulder.
“I need to see you.”
The moon shines through the fanlight above us and I take my bottom lip between my teeth when I see the sincerity in his eyes. I nod. Cooper moves, stealing my breath when he rolls his hips and drives in deep. My back arches off the counter, but Cooper smiles. He’s in complete control and for the first time since he stole me, I want him to take it. He plunges deeper and holds my hands above my head as he leans down to kiss me.
“I want all of it,” he says, dragging his lips over mine but refusing me a kiss. “I want to see you come. I want to hear you come. I want to feel you come. I want to taste you come.”
“Take it,” I whimper, holding him firm as the tightness becomes unbearable and my legs begin to quiver. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”
“Finally.”
With a growl, he picks up the pace, allowing me the kiss I’m so desperate for. When his lips touch mine, I fall, my body clenching around him as he looks at me, stills inside me to feel every ripple of my orgasm; he smiles when I cry out, and he swallows my moans with a kiss as he follows me over the edge and spills into me.
“Erin,” he pants, leaning over to rest his head on my chest. “Oh, caterpillar.”
We stay like this until our hearts return to a safe rhythm, and the sweat cools to make us shiver. When I begin to slip towards sleep, Cooper eases out of me and scoops me up in his arms. He carries me through the house, the conflict I feel suddenly making his body tense and prepare for an adrenaline-rush. He thinks I’m going to try and run.
I want to.
But I want to stay.
What have I done?
There have been plenty of times in my life when I’ve been confused. There was the one time when I was fifteen, and confused over my boyfriend at the time, Marc. He wanted to have sex, I didn’t, and I didn’t know whether to give into him or keep my virginity.
There was another time when I didn’t know whether to go onto college, find myself in university, and get myself a real job, instead of aspiring to be something thousands of people want to be, and fail.
Then there was the third time—the time I suspect Cooper knows all about. There was the time, during the 2012 Olympics in London, when I came to face to face with the person I had become and lived with not only the guilt of what I had done, what I could have done, and the careers I could have ruined had it been exposed, but the realisation that I wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t want to have become that woman and so came the choice…risk exposure, or step away. I chose to leave my dreams behind.
But nothing—nothing—compares to the confusion I’ve woken up with, in Cooper’s bed, with the memories of last night playing on a loop. Cooper stole me. He drowned me in the only place I felt safe, slashing through the sanctuary and taking it from me forever. He stole me; he took me from my family, he’s keeping me here, and he has a messed up idea that he’s going to make me thrive and then end my life. He hurt me; he whipped me with a belt, locked me in a room for an entire day, and he left me with no choice but to peeing in a bucket. He’s broken me…he’s forced me to embrace things I’ve refused to acknowledge my entire life. I should hate him. I do hate him. I hate being here. I hate that, once again, I’ve lost myself. I’m so full of hate, running on rage and resentment and yet…I chose to sleep with him. I asked him to show me how good he could make me feel. He made good on his promise; he made me come without hurting me; he held me instead of crushing me; he kissed me without making me bleed. He raised me without making me fall. Last night Cooper made me realise he’s just a man, not just the monster I thought he was.
But I’m still a prisoner.
“Morning, caterpillar.”
I jump, pulling the bed sheets up to cover my naked body as Cooper walks into the bedroom with a towel around his waist. His hair is wet from the shower, slicked back with drips trickling down his spine, and droplets of water decorate his chest.
“Like what you see?”
I’m staring. Blatantly. I’m trapped, staring at the body that held me all night. I’m so confused I have a headache. I’m so lost, searching for a reaction, any reaction, to seeing him on the morning after the night before, but I’m stuck.
“Okay.” He turns and rummages in one of his drawers, pulling out a pair of boxer-briefs and dropping his towel.
I gasp and cover my eyes, but the damage has been done. I’m wet in seconds, aching for the man in front of me, who happens to be almost as impressive flaccid as he is erect and ready to make me scream. No. I need to shut these thoughts off.
“Erin.”
Cooper pries my hands away from my face and when I open my eyes, I see him sitting on the bed fully dressed.
“Good morning,” I croak, averting my gaze.
I can’t bear to look him in the eye, but I can feel him looking at me. I can see from the corner of my eye that he’s concerned for my sanity. If I’m honest, so am I.
“I have to go away for the weekend,” he says, stroking his hand through my hair.
I freeze, not daring to even flex a muscle. This is the weirdest morning after in the history of morning afters and I don’t know what to do.
“Okay.”
“Jesus, Erin. We fucked. Get over it…it doesn’t change anything.”
“What?”
I look at him then, finally able to make eye contact now I know he doesn’t expect me to just bow to him because he gave me an orgasm I wanted and not one I begged to be spared.
“What?” He laughs. “Did you expect me to fall in love with you and set you free, caterpillar?”
My heart sinks to my stomach, rejection, disappointment and humiliation taking me hostage.
Cooper shakes his head, taps my thigh, and stands up.
“That’s not really how this works.”
“So tell me,” I snap, throwing the bed sheets back and standing up. I don’t care that I’m naked. I don’t care about anything but my anger towards Cooper frigging Jennings. “How does this work, Coop? Please enlighten me because this game of yours is getting pretty fucking boring.”
My breath is the next thing to be held captive, when Cooper grabs me by the throat and pins me to the wall beside the bed. I claw at his forearm, trying to hurt him enough to force him to free me, but it’s no good. It’s like he doesn’t even know I’m here, alive and conscious. Maybe he’ll kill me now. No! I knee him in the stomach and he doubles over with a grunt, letting go of me and sending me falling to the floor. I hold onto my neck, soothing the bruise from his ruthless grip.
“I’m sorry,” I choke, getting to my knees and reaching for him. He slaps my hand away, but doesn’t attack. “Cooper, I’m sorry. I couldn’t breathe.”
“I’m going away for the weekend, and I’ll be back Sunday afternoon.” He fo
rces himself to stand upright, and backs up towards the door. “You may not leave the grounds, or even attempt to. Rooms you may go in have been left unlocked, and there are labelled meals in the fridge. You may have the bottle of wine in there this evening.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, getting to my feet. “What can I do?”
He shrugs. “Get the fuck over the situation and look forward to me coming home.”
With that, he walks out of the bedroom and despite me wanting to question him further, find out where he’s going so I know if I can try and escape, I let him go. I listen to him run down the stairs, and then the front door opens and closes, and I’m alone.
The house is silent, and I hate it. I remember the times before, when my life was just that—mine. When Griffin was working at the weekends, Blue and I would spend time walking through the forest, I’d watch him swim in the lake, and I’d laugh when he came back out, shaking muddy water all over me. Cooper doesn’t have a dog, or even a cat, who’s completely ignorant and uninterested, much like its owner would be. I sit back down on the bed and stare around the bedroom, noting the clean warmth of the room. Cooper isn’t detached; he doesn’t deter people, hoping they’ll stay away. His home is welcoming and comforting—I’d thought that before I realised I wanted to fuck him…and did it consensually. I fucked him. I’ve cheated on Griffin, who is probably at home wondering if I’m dead in a ditch somewhere. When a thought strikes me, I steal from the bedroom and run down the stairs, grabbing a cardigan of Cooper’s hanging on the banister on my way down. Wrapping it around me and hiding the subtle inhale so I can smell him as if he were here—even to myself—I reach the door of the TV room. It’s open, so I’ve been given permission to be in here, and I make the most of it. I switch the TV on and make myself a cup of coffee while it boots up. With a steaming hot latte in my hand, I pick up the remote to flick through the channels, hoping to find something on the news about my disappearance. Maybe Cooper will have a telephone somewhere and I can call for help. Or at least just let my family know I’m okay and I’ll be home soon, despite what my captor says. I’m greeted with a static screen on every channel. Cooper has cut the TV off. He doesn’t want me to see the news. Is that because my disappearance is being reported everywhere…or because it isn’t? A sudden chill sweeps over me with the suspicion that no, perhaps they don’t care. But they have to; they’re my family. They’re looking for me, they want me home…don’t they?
Butterfly Page 7