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“Everything,” he says, and this time when our lips come together, we are wild, we are hungry, we are without limits. And that’s where I know we are headed right now, pleasure with no limits.
Chapter fifty-two
Lori
Cole pulls my shirt off, and my bra follows. His arm is around me, holding me up, the way he’s held me up since the day we met, his fingers splayed between my shoulder blades. His mouth on my shoulder, my collar bone, my nipple. He suckles and licks. He teases. I don’t want it to end. I want to go slow. I want to go fast. I want and want and want.
I need.
He lays me on the couch, the heavy weight of his body brutal and arousing, his lips touching my lips again. His teeth, nipping, caressing. His cheek by my cheek when he says, “Now I really do own you.”
I don’t deny him this. He does. And I’m no longer afraid of being owned. Not by Cole. “Say it.”
I’m also no fool. “You’ll have to make me.”
He laughs, a low, rumble of warmth and masculinity that clenches my sex in a brutal promise, he will, indeed, make me. He kisses me, drugs me, taunts me. His mouth warming my belly, my hip, back to my belly. He caresses my sweats down my hips, kissing a path behind them. He strips everything I’m wearing away, the same as he stripped, all of my reserve away.
When his mouth is back on my belly, my fingers are slicing into his hair, silently pleading for his mouth to be in that intimate place that we both know will ensure he gets his admission.
“Okay already,” I hiss, when he blows on my clit, but refuses to lick. “You own me.”
Then in true Cole fashion, he makes that okay. He looks up at me and says, “You own me, too, or I wouldn’t want to hear that so damn badly.” He seals that erotic, and yet tender reply with his tongue licking my clit.
I gasp and grab the cushion next to me, my hand slipping away from the leather as his mouth closes down on me. He suckles and licks, strokes and kisses. His fingers slide along the wet swell of my sex, and two fingers slip inside me. I gasp. I moan. I fight to make it last, but I cannot control anything. There is just the sensation and his mouth, his fingers, his hand. I drift into that dark perfect place that leaves no room for anything but him, us, this. And then I am there, tumbling into release, quaking with his touch, trembling inside and out.
I sink into a sated, limp bliss, and yet, I need more. I need him. “Cole, I—”
He kisses me, the taste of him salty, the taste of him me, before he says, “Me too,” as if I’ve told him what I want, but he knows. His pulls off his shirt and stands up. I watch him undress, and for the first time, I let myself appreciate every inch of muscle and man, with the understanding that I’m going to marry him. He’s mine and I’m his.
He comes back to me, his erection thick, pulsing, arousing me all over again. I’m wet, I’m hot, I’m ready and when he settles on top of me, sinks deeply inside me, I can no longer breathe alone. I’m breathing with him, moving with him. Everything is with Cole. We kiss. We touch. We shatter together.
A long time later, we order food, and talk. We make love again. We lay naked and we talk. Over and over, throughout the day, I am naked with the man that will be my husband, and we make plans, our plans, together. Forever. Cole listens. He offers suggestions. We find ways to make the next few months work, and every moment, every sentence, Cole considers my goals, not just his. He makes everything about us. And when I fall asleep that night, it’s with Cole wrapped around me, his big body protecting me, the way he always wants to protect me. It feels good. It feels right. And once again I’m a Cinderella who found her Prince Charming.
Chapter fifty-three
Lori
Sunday morning, Cole and I show up at Cat and Reese’s house. Cat opens the door and I hold out my hand. She squeals and hugs me. When she looks at Cole, she laughs. “You were such an ass here yesterday, I thought you were going to blow this, Cole Brooks.”
He laughs. “You and me both, Cat.”
A few minutes later, we are standing at the kitchen island with Reese and Cat, talking about our options. “We could just say fuck it, tell everyone this is how it is, and just move on,” Cole says.
“You could,” Reese says. “She’s with us. Her performance is what matters.”
“But,” Cat says. “If her scholarship is pulled, it looks bad and it will feel bad.”
“I do feel bad about taking money someone else needs,” I say. “I desperately needed this. Others do too.”
“I have an idea,” Cole says, looking at Reese. “You know a higher-up on the committee. What about proposing she keeps her status in the program, but we, me specifically, fund her scholarship.”
“What do you think?” Cat asks, looking at Reese.
“They like being behind superstars,” he says. “I don’t think we should tell them that you’re getting married. We want to keep her at the firm, so we feel we should fund her scholarship to honor the program. However, she doesn’t want to lose it and she’s willing to move to another firm in the program, with us still paying.”
“Move?” I ask. “I really don’t want to move.” I look at Cole. “What do you think?”
“This is your career,” he says. “You really want this honor and deserve it. You can come back.”
