Page 58 of Offside for Christmas
She kissed him then—deep and certain and full of promise—and Cole pulled her into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.
The room was dim, just the glow of Christmas lights from outside filtering through the curtains. The snow was still falling, and somewhere in the distance, church bells were ringing.
Cole's back hit the door as Ellie pressed against him, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. He groaned, then spun them around, catching her wrists and pinning them above her head against the wood.
"You're shaking," Ellie breathed, her pupils blown wide.
"You terrify me."
"Good." Her voice went soft. "I'd hate to be the only one scared."
He kissed her hard, his free hand gripping her hip, pulling her flush against him so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. She gasped into his mouth, and he released her wrists to work at the buttons of his own shirt.
"Let me," Ellie whispered, reaching for them.
"No." His voice was rough as he shrugged out of it. "I want to look at you first."
He reached for the hem of her sweater, his movements deliberate, controlled. She raised her arms and he pulled it over her head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. When she stood before him in just her jeans and bra, he took a moment to just look, his gaze traveling over her.
"Cole—"
"Shh." He traced one finger along her collarbone, down between her breasts. "Let me."
His hands moved to her jeans, unbuttoning them with steady fingers while she watched, her breathing getting faster. He knelt as he slid them down her legs, and Ellie gripped his shoulders for balance as she stepped out of them.
From his knees, Cole looked up at her, this woman who'd somehow gotten past every defense he'd built. His hands slid up her thighs, and when his fingers hooked into the sides of her panties, she trembled.
He pulled them down slowly, his eyes drinking her in, and when she stood completely bare before him—want and need and something deeper, something terrifying.
"You're beautiful," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Every part of you. Every single thing about you."
Ellie's breath caught. "Cole—"
He stood, lifting her easily, and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bed. When her back hit the mattress, he braced himself above her, his right shoulder protesting slightly. He ignored it.
"Tell me you want this," he said, his voice steady despite the need coursing through him.
"I want this. I want you."
He kissed her deeply as his hands moved over her, learning every curve. When he touched her breast, she arched into his palm with a soft moan, and he took his time, kissing down her neck, her collarbone, lower.
"Cole, please—" Her fingers tangled in his hair.
"Patience." His mouth closed over her nipple and she cried out, her hips lifting.
He worked his way down her body, his hands and mouth everywhere, until she was trembling beneath him, soft whimpers escaping her lips.
"Look at me," he commanded softly, and her eyes opened, hazy with need. "I need you to tell me if anything is too much."
"It's not—I just need you—"
He kissed her again as his hand moved between her thighs, and the sound she made when he touched her nearly undid his control. She was ready for him, and knowing that he'd done thatto her, that she wanted him this much, made something fierce and possessive surge through him.
Cole stood long enough to shed his jeans, and when he settled between her thighs, the heat of her against him made him dizzy.
He looked down at her—hair spread across his pillow, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes dark with trust and want.
"Ellie," he said, and there was everything in her name—question and promise and fear all tangled together.
