Page 37 of Bargaining

No. I knew that, but there was something new flickering in his eyes—anticipation? Desire? He lifted his hand to my face and smoothed his thumb over my cheekbone. Electricity crackled between us, raw and volatile.

“I like to take my time,” he said.

“It’s not about taking your time. It’s about practice—”

His soft lips pressed against mine, warm and tentative, stealing my words. A rush of nerves made my body hot and heavy. His other hand rested on my throat, and his mouth caressed mine in a kiss that was so gentle it was barely touching, yet persuasive enough to send my stomach into wild swirls. He tasted sweet, like the orange juice he’d been drinking at the party.

Cole had kissed me once before, many years ago, and now my body had some strange sense that those intervening years were nothing and we were picking up where we’d left things that day. As though he hadn’t broken my heart. As though the past years hadn’t broken my spirit.

Cole’s warm mouth and his thumb resting gently at the pulsing hollow of my throat made everything evaporate. It was just me and him. A deep sense of peace dissolved the nerves in my chest.Me and Cole.And for one reckless moment, my heart wanted to pretend that the years in between the last meeting of our lips were melting away. That time meant nothing. That not a day had passed. We were just kids in love. I’d always been his, and he’d always been mine. Our lips were always meant to be doing this.

His tongue glided into my mouth and against mine. There shouldn’t have been tongue. This was supposed to be a wedding kiss in front of an audience. Chaste and sweet. Not whatever was going on here. This was escalating wildly into groping and grinding against each other. His probing tongue explored every inch of my mouth. His cock pressed against me, and it felt thick and hard. Flames crept over my skin. My fingers curled into his soft hair.I should stop this. God, I don’t want it to stop.

He cupped my breast through my dress and moaned against my neck. Heat pooled between my thighs, along with an unbearable ache. I’d never have taken this measured control-freak man for amoaner. My back hit the wall. With a hand either side of my head, he boxed me in. His lips traveled along my jaw and down my throat. I should have pulled away, but I was too high on him to protest. High on his scent, the relentlessness of his lips, the feel of his hard chest pressed to mine. We were practically dry-humping each other. This was dirty and unexpected, but so fucking hot and intoxicating. My body was still responding to him like a horny teenager, whether I wanted it or not—racing heart, weak knees, fluttering stomach.

“I need to touch you.” His voice was thick and unsteady in my ear.

“Do whatever you want.” I sounded needy and desperate, but I was too turned on to be embarrassed.

One hand wrapped around my ass, squeezing, and the other slipped up my inner thigh. With a deft hand, he pulled my underwear down and drew a finger through my folds, parting me. There was no resistance. The wetness at my core slicked my thighs. A groan escaped him, and it was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard. His knee nudged between my legs, and his finger came to rest lightly on my swollen clit. My body set alight. My breath came in shuddery gasps.

“You’re my fiancée. I brought you here for me. No one else. Do you understand?” He whispered the words hotly against my collarbone, like a prayer. He rubbed my clit in a smooth, light motion that made my toes curl.

“If you want a man to touch you, then you ask me. If you want to feel something different, I’m willing to oblige.”

Somehow, I found words to speak. “This isn’t in the contract.”

“We can amend the contract.”

“I’m sure we can when it suits you.”

He slipped a long finger inside me, silencing me. His words were rough against my ear. “That’s right, sweetheart. My contract. My rules.”

A moan left my lips. I wanted to surrender. I needed to fall apart and let him put me back together again. I shouldn’t have wanted it, but the ache was unbearable. He worked my clit in firm circles. It usually took me a long time to orgasm, but pleasure sparked at the base of my spine and rolled behind my hips. I could barely breathe from the need to come. My legs began to shake. The sensation was so intense, a whimper left my mouth. He watched every play of emotion on my face as he worked me with his expert fingers. Another shuddering whimper escaped me.

A slight smirk curved his lips. His crisp voice was icy and aloof. “I know, baby. It feels good, doesn’t it? Your pussy feels so good for me, too. Are you dripping like this for me or for him?”

He couldn’t even help being a condescending prick when he was doling out more pleasure than should have been humanly possible.

I sucked in a few desperate gasps of air. “You’re jealous? Is that what this is?”

“I took you to that party to be with me, not him. You’re never going to let him touch you again.”

He curled his finger, hitting a spot that made my pussy clench. My breath left me with a strange hissing sound. I couldn’t stop myself from grinding shamelessly against his hand.

“Say it.” He slipped in another finger and held perfectly still.

“Say what?”

He withdrew his fingers sharply.

“Fuck!” I clamped my thighs together to soothe the desperate need.

He interlaced his fingers with mine and pinned my hands high above my head against the wall. “Tell me what I want to hear. You’ll never let him touch you again.”

I was so close to the edge, I would have said anything to make him carry on. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“As much as I enjoy hearing you beg, I need you to tell me you’ll never let Reuben touch you again.”