“You will come with my cock inside you. Sit on me.” His words are barely intelligible now. He leans his back on the head board and fists his erection, moving his hand up and down in slow movements.
As soon as I straddle him and put my hands on his shoulders, he lets go of himself and grabs my hips with both hands. He lowers me down, impaling me to the root, filling me completely. I inhale deeply and hold still. I want to tell him how good I feel, how much I love him, how perfect we are together. But I don’t want to move to switch on the light so he can read my lips. I don’t want to break our connection. So I take one of his hands and place it on my neck so he can feel what he is doing to me. I wrap my arms around his neck, concentrate on watching his face in the dark, memorizing each feature. We don’t talk as our breaths mingle, our hearts speak to each other and our souls merge over and over.
The fingers on my neck tighten a little before releasing me and moving down to cup my breast. Pinching my nipple. I dip my head to kiss his neck, trailing my lips down his shoulder and nip with my teeth. Down to his chest. I suck on his nipple and then do the same to the other one, tugging at the metal ring. He groans and grabs my head in both hands and pulls me up to his mouth, kissing me brutally, passionately. His hips buck up. I bear down on him hard, matching his furious thrusts, feeling him go deeper. Deeper than I’ve ever felt before. His hands move to my hips and hold me in place as he thrusts in and out. In and Out. In. Out. I press my forehead to his, our lips so close to touching. We don’t kiss. Just keep on breathing. Breathing each other’s air. Feeding on the intensity of our union.
God, Cole.
Cole.
I love you.
The sound of my phone ringing penetrates the lusty haze. I shut my eyes tighter, throw my arms around Cole’s shoulders and grab him harder.
I feel the wave rise inside me. My body shakes against Coles. He seems to sense how close I am to coming. He wraps his strong arms around my waist and buries his face into my breast. The orgasm rips through me and I’m flying. I feel him join me and we both fall over the edge together, my mouth pressed on his shoulder.
When we are calm enough to move, he slumps back on the headboard, taking me with him and stretches his legs beneath him and just holds me. His heart beats wildly against my chest.
I feel him move beneath me and seconds later the room is bathed with the soft light from the lamp on the nightstand.
“That was mind-blowing,” I sign. “God, you are incredible.” I squint at him then burst out laughing. “You are wearing makeup.”
He grins, the sexiest thing ever. “I was a princess and it was amazing,” he signs, then cups my neck in his hands, the pad of his thumbs skimming across my jaw as he kisses me softly. A whisper of a kiss. A promise of forever.
The phone starts to ring again. I groan, annoyed that I have to move my well-loved and used body.
“What is wrong?” he asks, sliding his hands to my shoulders.
“My phone is ringing. Who could be calling at almost midnight?” I reach for the phone on my side of the bed and squint at the screen. I frown at the unfamiliar number flashing on my screen. I’m about to press the ‘call end’ button, but I pause.
What if it’s Elon or Elise and something happened, and they couldn’t use their phones?
I quickly swipe the screen to answer. “Eleanor Holloway.”
There is a pause on the other end of the line, then “Mrs. Holloway? My name is Charles Witkson. I’m calling from Chicago.” A pause, then a deep intake of breath. “I’m a friend of your father’s. Your name and number were in his wallet. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“My father?” I ask, trying to wrap my mind around the stranger’s words. Then a chill runs down my spine and I tense. My mind is still stuck on ‘Your name and number was in his wallet’. My first instinct is to ask if he is okay, but suddenly the anger that has been buried inside me all these years rears its head.
“What do you want, Mr. Witkson?” I ask coldly, watching Cole’s expression darken as he reads my lips.
The man coughs. “He has been arrested for attempted murder—”
My brain shuts down. Everything after that is background noise. Bile burns my throat and I want to vomit. My body locks down and I feel hot and cold and I can’t breathe. Thoughts fly inside my head, thoughts of my father, the hell he had put us through. . .
I jolt when hands grab my shoulders and shake me violently.
“Nor? What is wrong?”
I shake my head, tears burning my eyes. “I don’t have a father. I never have,” I declare over the phone. “Good bye Mr. Witkson. Please, don’t ever call me again.”
I end the call with shaking fingers and clutch the phone in my hand.
“Your father?” Cole asks, his face transformed from bliss to thunder. “What does he want?”
“He was arrested for attempted murder. In Chicago,” I reply, but I don’t really feel anything at all. I was used to not having him around, and suddenly he is there, his presence looming around me like a nightmare.