Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
His thumb circles my clit slowly as he pushes inside me all at once—no gentle stretching, no gradual accommodation. The burn makes me scream into his shoulder as my cuffed hands clutch at his back, unable to find purchase.
“Let’s spread this tight pussy of yours,” he rasps against my neck while I tremble beneath him. I don’t know why I’m slightly stunned by the dirty talk coming from Cole, but it only makes me clench around him harder. His groan vibrates against my collarbone as he withdraws almost completely before slamming back in with brutal precision. “That’s it—squeeze me just like that while I ruin you.”
The rhythm of his thrusts builds, sharp and punishing, flesh meeting flesh in relentless tempo. He licks a stripe up my throat before biting down at the center of my chest, the pressure threatening to blur my vision. My hips rise desperately to meet his punishing rhythm, each snap of his pelvis wringing another broken sound from my lips.
“Look at me.” His command slices through the haze when I obey; his gaze holds me more trapped than any chain. There’s no softness there, only feral possession. “You take this cock like you were made for it.”
I am. I am. The thought loops wildly as he drags a hand between us, fingertips finding my clit again and rubbing tight circles that fray my sanity.
Pleasure coils like live wire beneath my skin, every nerve alight—until suddenly his thumb stills, denying release as he slows his thrusts to a torturous grind.
“Cole—”
“Beg.” A wicked smile as he watches tears of frustration prick my eyes. “Or don’t you want it bad enough?”
The words unravel me faster than any touch could. But not quite enough. I want to come. I need to come.
I arch beneath him, choking out something between a plea and a curse, my bound hands straining against his grip.
“Please.” The word cracks open something feral in him. His hips snap forward with renewed force as his thumb resumes its relentless pressure.
“What do you want?” he demands, voice ragged yet controlled.
“Y-you,” I stammer, my head falling back as he angles deeper, hitting a place that makes my toes curl. “Need—”
“Need what?” He punctuates each syllable with a thrust so brutal I cry out.
“To come!”
The demand explodes between us like lightning. The pressure unspools and then I’m gone, lost in a pleasure so sharp and bright it feels like breaking.
But Cole doesn’t stop.
He slows only to drag his fingers lower, gathering my slick and pressing teasing circles against the tight ring of muscle just below. I freeze. My breath catches.
“Relax,” he growls, his voice low and full of heat. “Let me in.”
His finger presses gently until it breaches me, slow and steady. I gasp at the stretch, the unfamiliar intrusion shocking and electric.
“You’re mine,” he says again, his words threading through the haze of overstimulation. “Mine to claim. Mine to punish. And if you ever try to run out on me again, it won’t be just my finger in your ass.”
A sound escapes me—half moan, half whimper—as he begins to move, his cock still thrusting while his finger matches the rhythm. The combination is too much. Perfect. Exquisite.
I shouldn’t like this. But fuck me—I do.
His other hand finds my clit and I’m spiraling again, wrecked and wrecking as he coaxes every last tremble from my body.
When I come this time, I shatter. Completely.
Cole groans into my neck and follows me over the edge, hips jerking, cock twitching deep inside me as he spills with a broken curse.
We collapse in a tangled, breathless heap on the floor. Raw. Spent. And I know I’ll never be the same.
Chapter Eighteen Cole
Control is everything until it isn’t.
I watch Sloane sleeping in my bed, her breath steady and deep in the early morning quiet. She’s curled into my sheets like she belongs there. No one has ever slept in my bed before—I’ve made sure of that, keeping this space as controlled and solitary as every other aspect of my life. But last night, when she tried to go to her room, I pulled her to mine.
I wasn’t ready to let her go.
Last night changed everything—the barrier between professional and personal collapsing with the first press of her body against mine. I’d planned for every aspect of her moving into the penthouse, designing the jewelry line, even the security protocols. But I hadn’t planned for this. The way she slipped past my defenses and made me want something I’d denied myself. Connection. Intimacy beyond the physical. A woman who challenges me in ways no one else dares. Now, watching her here, I realize I want her to stay.
The thought makes me uneasy.
My phone buzzes. Knox’s morning briefing details Julian’s latest move—an attempted break-in at one of my jewelry stores in Venice. Smart actually, as I know he’s seeing if the case with Claire’s designs is there. Classic Julian, testing the edges of my empire while playing this game of hide-and-seek.