“But I am.”
“You’re not,” he said. “But you will be. Do you trust me, baby?”
“You know I do.”
“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you hard tonight. I’m going to claim you. I’m not going to leave even the slightest doubt in your mind that you belong to me.” He leaned over me, stroking his hands along my bare back, and that touch ricocheted through me, making me feel connected. Complete. And very much alive.
Somehow he’d stripped his jeans and briefs all the way off, and his erection pressed hard against me, the tip teasing my sex as he thrust just slightly into me. Just enough to make me gasp and want. Then the bed shifted as he got on to kneel behind me and I felt the press of his cock at my ass, hard and insistent and just a little terrifying.
I must have sucked in air, because he shifted away, and I heard myself moan with disappointment.
“My girl wants me to take her there,” he said, reading me perfectly.
“Yes,” I said, voicing a desire I hadn’t fully understood.
“Good,” he said, then bent to whisper in my ear. “So do I.”
Three simple words, and yet the heat from them spread through me, making me even needier than I already was.
“Stay,” he said, then left the bed for a moment before coming back with the padded envelope that had been delivered with my closing documents. He’d come around the bed so that he faced me now, and with a little bit of a flourish, he ripped open the envelope, then reached in and pulled out something that looked like a small vibrator, only more conical and with a flange on top.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked, setting it on the bed in front of me.
I nodded.
His brows rose. “Really? Tell me.”
“It’s a butt plug,” I said, shooting for a matter-of-fact tone but failing miserably. “I already told you I’m not innocent.”
He laughed. “So you did. But have you ever used one?” He moved beside me, then trailed his fingers softly down my back and over the swell of my ass. “Has anything ever penetrated this sweet, tight ass?” Gently, he spread my butt cheeks, then pressed his fingertip to the rim of my anus.
I sucked in air, surprised by the shock of the contact and the jolt of pleasure that seemed to shoot through me, like a preamble of things to come. “No,” I said. “I told you. Never. No one. Nothing.”
“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
He reached around me for the bag, then pulled out a small bottle of lube. He flipped the lid, put some on his fingertip, and then slowly stroked the sensitive skin between my ass and my vagina, each tender movement making the storm that was building inside me rage wilder until I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand it.
“Cole.” I ground out his name. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“I—you know.”
“Please this?” he asked, then slowly inserted his well-lubed fingertip into my rear.
I gasped, then bit my lower lip, astounded by the wash of pleasure that crashed over me. “Yes,” I said. “Oh, god, yes.”
He reached for the plug, and as I watched he spread lube on it. I was still on hands and knees. Still vulnerable to him. Still wide open. And everything about the moment turned me on. I wanted to feel everything he had to offer—I wanted him to take me as far as I could possibly go. I wanted everything.
I wanted Cole.
I tilted my head up, then turned so that I could meet his eyes, certain that he could read my thoughts. For a moment, that’s all there was, that connection between us, then he bent over and pressed a kiss between my shoulder blades even as his hand slid down to my ass and he teased me with the plug, not putting it in, but touching me just enough to rile me up.
“I’m not going to fuck you here—not tonight. But I am going to fuck you with it inside you. I want you completely full. I want to watch you come knowing that I’ve taken you completely. That every sensation is at my pleasure and subject to my command. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” The word was wrenched out of me, my body tense, my sex already throbbing with demand.
He slipped his finger inside me first. Slowly, almost teasingly, until my muscles relaxed. It didn’t hurt—on the contrary, there was something wickedly erotic about being touched there, being fucked there. My sex clenched in time with his gentle thrusts, and my nipples had hardened to painful nubs.
With his other hand, Cole stroked my clit, teasing me by refusing to penetrate me despite my very desperate pleas. Worse, he tormented and played with me just enough to have me climbing toward orgasm. Then he backed off so that I was nothing more than passion and want and need.
I would have cursed him, but I was too destroyed to manage it.
“Frustrated?”
“Cole.” His name came out part plea, part whine.
He chuckled. “All the way to the edge and back, baby. And only when I’m certain that you’re teetering on the cusp am I going to bury myself in you and feel you explode around me. But right now . . .”
He trailed off, his voice taking on a teasing tone. Then he withdrew his finger from my rear as I moaned the loss of contact, of a sweet sensation that before this night I hadn’t even realized I craved.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, with intimate understanding of my moods and desires. “We’re not done yet.”
Gently, his lube-soaked fingers stroked me, opening me, and then I felt the pressure—not painful, but still intense—as he slowly thrust the plug inside me. I gasped, feeling full and, dammit, wanting to be fuller. Wanting all of it. Wanting all of him.