Page 62 of You, Me, and Lucky Number 13

He lifts his head, his eyes dark with desire, searching mine for permission. “What do you want, Lola?” he asks, his voice rough with need.

The question hangs in the air, a challenge and an invitation all wrapped up into one. And in that moment, with the world spinning around us and the scent of him filling my senses, I know exactly what I want.

“I want you,” I say, the words a confession torn from my soul. “I want all of you.”

His answering grin is predatory, and I’m lost in it.

He wastes no time. His hands work quickly, shedding our clothes with an urgency that mirrors my own. The cool air of the garage kisses my bare skin, and I shiver, a delicious mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

Cole’s gaze sweeps over me, a hot, possessive look that makes my heart pound. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful.”

His words, spoken with such raw honesty, unravel me and strip away the last vestiges of my defenses. I’m completely exposed, body and soul, and for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid.

He lowers me onto his lap, his heated skin smooth against mine. His eyes hold mine hostage the entire time.

“Hold on tight, baby,” he demands, his voice husky with restraint, a hint of the power he’s holding back, the control he’s barely maintaining. His gaze, intense and possessive, locks on to mine, a challenge and a promise all wrapped up in one.

I nod, my throat too tight for words. There’s no turning back now. My body is humming with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with the anticipation of his touch.

And as he lifts his hips, he fills me completely. It's a rush of sensation, a fullness that makes me gasp, my senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the scent of him, the heat of him radiating against my skin. This is more than just sex. This is a reckoning, a collision of two souls that have been circling each other for years, finally finding their way home.

His first thrust is deep, possessive, and it sends a shockwave of pleasure through me that makes me cry out. It’s a mixture of pain and pleasure, a raw, primal sensation that steals my breath and makes me see stars.

"Fuck, Lola," he groans, his voice husky with desire, his breath hot against my ear. "You’re so damn tight."

The pain fades quickly, replaced by a building wave of heat and a delicious ache that centers low in my belly and spreads outward, tingling through my limbs, making me gasp for air.

Cole moves below me, setting a rhythm that’s both demanding and intoxicating. He’s all muscle and heat, his skin slick with sweat, his scent filling my senses, driving me wild. His hands are everywhere, gripping my hips, tangling in my hair, urging me closer, deeper, into the maelstrom of our shared desire.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, his hips pistoning against mine, the friction building, the pleasure coiling tight in my belly. “Take all of me.”

His words, raw and commanding, send a jolt of pure lust through me. I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, my body arching into his, desperate for more.

“You’re driving me crazy, Lola,” he groans, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against me. “So fucking hot, so wet…”

His praise, laced with a raw hunger, is like gasoline on the fire that’s consuming me. My head falls back, my senses overwhelmed, my body begging for release.

“Cole,” I moan, his name a prayer escaping my lips as the pleasure builds, tightening into a knot that threatens to shatter me.

He groans a primal sound that vibrates against my skin, and his movements quicken, becoming more insistent, more desperate.

“Look at me,” he growls, his voice thick with passion. “Look at me when you come all over my cock.”

His words, a command and a plea, are all it takes.

I snap my eyes open, meeting his gaze in the dim light of the simulator. The intensity in his eyes, a mix of desire and love, unravels me. And as I shatter around him, I know with a certainty that steals my breath, that Cole Lawson is what I’ve been racing towards all along.

He’s my end game, my checkered flag, my finish line.

He follows close behind, his curse a guttural sound that echoes in the small space. His body tenses and shudders, and then he collapses against the seat, bringing me with him, his breath hot and ragged against my chest.

For a long moment, we just sit there, tangled together in the simulator, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of our shared climax. The only sounds are the gentle whir of the cooling fans and the beat of our hearts, a synchronized rhythm that speaks of a connection that goes beyond the physical.

Finally, Cole lifts his head, his gaze searching mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.

“Mercy,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion. “I think you killed me.”

I reach up, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the rough stubble a welcome contrast to the smoothness of his skin. Heleans into my touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the feel of my hand on his face.

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