“So if I shower with Trace, you won’t consider it a betrayal?”
His chin lowers to his chest, but I glimpse the sudden tension in his face.
“It would be his betrayal, not yours.” He steps closer, placing his hands on the wall on either side of my head, hemming me in.
“He told me about your death threats.”
“Is that right?” He peers at me from beneath a furrowed brow.
“One specifically about his dead mother.”
His eyes close briefly. “The discussion escalated. I was pissed and said shit I shouldn’t have said. I would never—”
“I know.” I rest my hands on his waist, savoring the heat of his skin.
“You’re not being a pain in the ass or making this complicated. Neither of us will ever blame you for the situation we put you in. And we won’t resent you for the actions and decisions you make. Any anger that arises will never be directed at you. This is between him and me.”
“Did he say that?”
“Yes. We discussed it.”
“I don’t want that negativity between the two of you.” My face falls. “I’ve ruined your friendship.”
“You didn’t do anything, and I’m done talking about him.” He nuzzles my neck. “I owe you an orgasm.”
My thighs clench together, and I sink my nails into his hips. “I don’t think—”
“This is happening, baby. My ego won’t have it any other way.”
“Fuck that—”
“Oh, we’re going to fuck, but right now, I just want to concentrate on you.”
Those are words every girl wants to hear. Add to that the determined look in his eyes, and I’m defenseless, debilitated, and too damn weak in the knees to stop him.
His hands glide down my body, and I whimper. He kicks my feet apart, and my heart skips. Then he sinks his fingers between my legs and devours my moan in a kiss.
“You’re still wearing one of my rings.” He flicks the piercing and growls against my mouth. “I bet it pissed him off every time he saw it.”
I’m tempted to tell him Trace sucked on my pussy ring every chance he got, but I won’t stoop to that level. “I thought we weren’t talking about him.”
“You’re right.” He grips the hair on the back of my head and plunders my mouth.
His minty, masculine taste sweeps over my tongue, and his hand delves through my folds. The roots of my hair spark with delicious pain as he pulls, angling my head and deepening the kiss.
The hard lines of his body pin me against the wall, our skin wet and slipping together, creating a diabolical friction that heats me up and revs my pulse.
His fingers tease my thrumming center, but it’s his primal kiss that gets my juices flowing. His tongue moves with expert strokes, licking the seam of my lips and curling deeper, flicking and rubbing and claiming.
I can come from just his kiss. The spinning, whirling, all-consuming sensation he creates with the movement of his mouth should be illegal. It makes me mindless, starving, horny as fuck, and my inner muscles clench to the point of pain.
“Cole, I need…I need you inside.”
“So impatient.” He bites my lips. “That’s the girl I remember.”
He bends his knees and ducks his head to latch onto a nipple. Then he plunges his fingers into my pussy. Two, three…I don’t know how many fingers, but holy fuck, they spark greedy flames straight to my core.
My hips start to move, and my hands rake through his hair as I hold on and ride his fingers. Pleasure surges through me, and I know I won’t last long. Hell, I was ready to come the instant he took my mouth.
“This is going to be fast.” I drop my head back against the wall, my legs shaking against the onslaught of stimulation.
His teeth sink into my breast. His fingers curl inside me, and his thumb circles my clit. I’m a goner. The orgasm detonates, knocking the air from my lungs and the strength from my legs.
He holds me up, banging me hard and fast with those strong fingers as he laves my nipples and stares up at me with so much love and devotion.
I melt against him, boneless and satiated, hugging his neck and peppering breathy kisses across his face. “I needed that. Thank you.”
It’s a sappy whisper of honesty, but the possessive glint in his eyes suggests my words have a greater meaning to him. I just admitted that I haven’t come in a while, that I didn’t orgasm during the two nights I spent with Trace.
He finishes washing me, lavishing extra attention on the parts that’ll soon be covered up. Then he dries us off and leads me into my bedroom.
I enter the closet and change into a soft pair of blue velour pants and a matching hoodie. When I step out, I find him sitting on the corner of my bed, with his elbows on his thighs and a towel around his waist.