Page 79 of Read Me (Forget the Past 2)

Summer’s nails dig into the blanket, and she rocks back into me, begging with her body.

My thrusts are measured. Despite all the talk of fucking, I want this to be more than that. Not jackhammering into her. This is about showing Summer all the pleasure I can bring her. Convince her to come back to me every day with hungry eyes and a wet pussy.

“Cole,” she whimpers my name, writhing beneath me.

“You gonna come for me?”

Summer lets out a moan as I circle that sensitive little nub with the pad of my finger.

“I want…” Her half-finished thought has my curiosity raging.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.” This time I press deep into her, emphasizing my words.

“I-I need you to…” Again she hesitates, her neck turning red.

I lean over her, pressing my chest against her back.

“Say it,” I command as I pull out and enter her again.

After a small gasp, she relents. “Pinch my clit.”

That’s right. In my car, that’s what had her going over the edge. With an evil smile she can’t see, I maneuver my thumb and forefinger to either side of her pleasure center. For a handful of seconds, I tease her, pressing only light enough that she knows I’m there.

“Cole.” My name comes from her lips like a hiss.

I fucking love it.

So I reward her, giving Summer what she needs.

Her wet heat pulsates around my cock as my ears are caressed by her choked little gasps.

Curses flow from my mouth on their own, and I rise to my knees, pulling her hips up with me. My palms grasping her upper thighs, thumbs digging into her soft ass, I watch with torturous pleasure as I slip in and out of her pussy until the sight and the feel drag me into the most intense orgasm I’ve had to date.

As I come, my thoughts go haywire, blood rushing so loud that I can’t hear myself shout her name.

But I still feel the sweet shape of it on my lips.

SUMMER

With Cole’s hands on my ass, his leg between my thighs, his chest smashing my boobs in a surprisingly glorious way, I am pinned to the shower wall. After orgasming in the bed, we decided to christen the bathroom. The tile was a cool shock at first, but the warmth from my skin balanced the temperature out.

Everything around me is warm. The wall at my back, the spray of the water, the man I’ve wrapped my arms around, the breath we share.

This is what a dragon must feel like. Toasty warm all the time.

But warm is too mild a word for Cole.

He is scorching. Every spot we touch, which is a hell of a lot of spots, burns. He burns so good. My muscles are as liquid as the droplets trickling down my skin. Good thing Cole is holding me up. I’m a baked soufflé, on the verge of collapse.

His lips devour mine, stealing my breath every time I remember to gasp one out. When I inhale it’s all him, filling my lungs with Cole.

I don’t consider that it’s probably better practice to fill my lungs with oxygen.

I’m too gone.

And then I am gone.

…

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