Page 41

Olivia brought a few candles upstairs to scatter around the bedroom.

She blows out the match flame after lighting the last wick.

A towel hugs her body, and she pauses in front of the old mirror atop a dresser as the shower spray from the bathroom goes silent.

Anticipation of what’s to come has her nearly vibrating.

A puff of steam follows Cole when he emerges in only a towel slung low on his hips.

She catches his eye in the reflection with a mischievous glint. “You forgot your clothes.”

The warmth of him at her back makes her lashes flutter and her body melt into the arms that circle her, his breath soft at her pulse. “You forgot yours first.”

She nestles within his embrace, her eyes hooded and her nerves razor sharp as she watches him rest a temple beside hers in the mirror.

His hand traces a journey down the side of her breast over the towel, and her breath hitches when he pauses at the hem to inch it up, up, up, massaging her bare hip.

The length of him is hard against her lower back and she shivers, imagining him inside her, and realizing that she’s about to find out exactly what that feels like.

When his touch leaves her, she frowns until he follows the curve of her chin, turning her attention away from the reflection and toward his gaze.

Her delicate smile is quick. It’s a Pavlovian response by now.

Seeing his face is all she needs for a sense of safety, of home, to bloom gently in her chest, lifting her lips.

His thumbs wave across her cheekbones for a reverent moment before his mouth finds her in an easy, slow kiss.

The scent of sulfur from the matches and soap from the shower mingles with the pheromones he gives off, wafting up her nose and lulling her into an intoxicating high, just as their connection turns greedy and firm.

And then he loosens her towel, letting it fall to the ground before scooping her up to wrap her legs around his waist. She gasps, her mouth falling open as he suckles at the juncture between her throat and shoulder, walking toward the bed and depositing her onto the mattress.

There is a brief flicker of shyness when she thinks of covering herself, but it’s only a whisper of the past and she ignores it.

He locks eyes with her, his stare so intense that it almost burns, but she doesn’t dare look away.

She catches the heat and pulls it in, savoring the fire.

When he joins her on the bed and covers her with his body, flinging the towel off his hips with a flourish and a teasing raise of his brows, it’s a needed moment of levity.

With a laugh, she watches the fabric hit a darkened lamp across the room.

She’s never needed anyone as much as she needs him in this moment, but the push of his hips down into the vee of her legs, his thick cock meeting where arousal has her soaked, is all it takes to drag up past insults and insecurities.

It’s your fault you can’t get there.

Ice cold.

Broken .

Not my job to try to fix you.

Only good for one thing and can’t even do that right half the time.

Sex has never been something she wanted. Used to spend the majority of her time before the world ended plotting ways to avoid having to pacify her husband with her body. It was a job, a necessity, something that kept her out of the ER… mostly.

Then she met Cole and everything changed in ways she never expected.

He’s already shown her once what they’re capable of together, and she hopes it wasn’t a fluke. That she’ll officially be someone who can enjoy sex and enjoy it often. She’s eager to find out, and her desire to take this final step overwhelms her to the point of wanting to rush.

He’ll be gentle, she tells herself. He’ll think of more than his own pleasure.

He’ll make her feel safe. She’s been imagining this moment since the mere thought of being intimate with him shifted from something she dreaded to something she desires, causing a cluster of hidden fears to bubble up at the worst time.

What if she’s programmed to be tense and matter-of-fact about the whole thing and there’s no changing that?

Maybe Cole has his own worries, too. Despite being right there with no barriers between them, he’s condom-free and they both know they need one unless they want to risk baby number two.

Instead of joining them together, he takes his time with lazy thrusts that have no intention of going further.

Pushes his tongue into her mouth as his hips nudge forward and it’s almost easy to forget she’s worried at all when they fit so well like this.

Her mind begins to blank, all her senses in overdrive, and every pleasure receptor sizzling and sparking.

Olivia wonders if he took an extra effort in the shower earlier because that hair trigger he had the last time is nowhere to be found. They have time to relax into this and that has her body responding even further until she’s slicked the underside of him obscenely.

She could come from this delicious friction alone. With each thrust, she anticipates his movement, feeling a growing intensity until they both freeze at the pressure of his tip at her entrance.

“You good?” His strangled question is an obvious effort, pupils blown wide and kiss-swollen lips parted above her.

Unable to remain still, she nods while her legs stroke his hips almost frantically, grabbing a condom from the table to tear it open as if the packaging offended her.

“Easy with that. We gotta use it,” he teases.

She resists the urge to blush in embarrassment when he’s already doing enough of that for both of them.

“Fuck, it’s tight.” He groans with a wince after she’s rolled it onto him. “It’s alright. I’m good. It’s okay.”

He’s lying through his teeth, ready to keep going to be with her despite looking like he’s about to turn purple.

“Take it off,” she says, gently.

“But we need—”

“We’ve got options.” She rifles around the bed sheets before victoriously holding up the Magnum she swiped from the drug store.

“Oh.”

He rips the smaller one off himself and fuck , this is a harsh reminder of the other reason she’d been nervous.

He’s twice the size of anything she’s felt from another man.

The new condom is a perfect fit, and it’s beginning to dawn on her that this might not be all pleasure at first, especially considering recent circumstances.

Suddenly, she’s not so eager anymore. Bites her lip as he covers her again, oblivious to her anxiety.

“It’s ah…been a while.” He avoids her eyes, offering an unprompted apology. “Long time.”

She’d been so wrapped up in her own inner struggle that she missed him having one, too. “I don’t have any expectations. I just wanna be with you.”

His reply is a hint of pressure, trying to gain that first inch.

It’s fine. It’s fine. I can do this. She tells herself, while the tension coils fast in her chest.

Every time he moves forward, her hips twist to pull away without any logical input required from her brain. That’s when he stops, asking her what’s wrong in the sweetest voice that has her own self-loathing and frustration prickling hot behind her eyes.

Emotionally, she’s more than ready. Physically, she’s afraid the trauma she went through in that subway bathroom could make this a miserable experience when all she wants is to feel something good.

“I want this. I want you. Just go slow, okay? Please.”

Before she can process what’s happened, he’s moving down her body, kissing warm and soft from her collarbone to her inner thigh before throwing one leg over his shoulder and sweeping his tongue across her in a firm lick that has all rational thought vanishing.

This isn’t what she meant. Not what she expected at all, but he’s observant enough to know she couldn’t let him in yet. His enthusiasm is what keeps her anxiety at bay. The rumble of approval vibrating across her skin leaves her no time for self-consciousness or worry.

It should be illegal for anything to feel this good. Her legs fall open wide, nerves singing as he swirls his tongue where she’s swollen and throbbing. There is a ravenous edge to the gentle way he strokes her with his tongue that leaves no room for doubt that he’s enjoying every second.

She glances down, watching him move between her legs, seeing the soft indents his thumbs make in the flesh of her thighs.

A finger or two first would help open her for the rest of him, but he doesn’t try and she doesn’t ask.

She explicitly asked that he not touch her like that the last time they were naked together and he assumes that holds true now.

He does, however, slick the tip of his tongue up into her, massaging that first ring of muscle at her entrance.

It’s a move so unexpected that she grips the bedsheet until it twists in her grip.

Then, he moves up, and a few well-placed strokes where she’s swollen has her arching off the bed before it even occurs to her that she’s already coming.

A strangled yelp of surprise escapes while her body rolls and contracts, riding a blissful wave until she can’t do anything but collapse back onto the mattress, limbs like jelly and chest heaving.

When he fits himself between her legs again, she’s so supple and mind-blown that she couldn’t stress about anything if she tried. Runs her fingers through his hair and bends one knee to give him more room, feeling the blunt tip begin to tease at her.

“Lube?” he asks. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

She’s glad he remembered because she couldn’t form a coherent thought if she tried.

She only nods, watching him sit back on his calves and grab the little bottle she sat on the nightstand.

She has never in her life seen anything hotter than this man coating his cock in copious amounts of lube in preparation.

She’s so damn wet that the first inch slips in easily, but the burn still sears like a brand, ripping a hiss from between her teeth. “I’m good. Slow. Slow.”