His index finger traces down the bare skin of my shoulder all the way to where the top of the zipper rests. Goosebumps cover my flesh. My breathing turns choppy. His touch is so sensual, but I know, I just know it’s only an appetiser to what he’s truly capable of.
“You’re wearing a dress like the one from that day ten years ago.” He grabs the zipper and slowly glides it down my back. “It’s on purpose isn’t it, Butterfly?”
“N-no, don’t flatter yourself.” My voice is weak and sounds wanton, even to my own ears.
He slides his fingers down my exposed back. I close my eyes, my forehead falling against the door. A whimper fights its way out, but I bite my lip against it.
Why does this feel so good? Why are my legs opening of their own volition?
His breaths against the shell of my ear and his presence behind me send bursts of pleasure down my spine and right between my legs.
“C-Cole…” It’s supposed to be a protest, but it comes out as a messy, lustful moan.
“Say it again.” He skims his lean hand over my naked back before he stops at the middle, easily pinning me against the surface. “My name with a moan.”
“N-no.”
“No?” His other hand wraps around my throat. It’s not hard enough to cut off my air supply, but it’s firm, with the intention of keeping me in place.
I gulp, my body sharpening to attention as if I’ve been suddenly driven to the midst of an adrenaline high.
His teeth find the shell of my ear, nibbling slightly. His voice is that deceitful type of calm that gains an edge with every word. “Are you telling me you haven’t been thinking about my fingers inside that tight cunt, Silver? That you haven’t touched yourself to the memory or thought about them every time you saw me and fucking avoided me?”
My lips tremble at the onslaught of everything. His words. His mouth. His fingers around my throat.
Everything is too much.
“Because I have.” He pushes his hips into me and an unmistakable bulge settles against my arse cheeks.
He’s hard.
Cole is hard for me.
“Ever since you fell apart around my fingers, I’ve been fantasising about taking you in every fucking position.”
I can feel myself falling. My walls crumbling and my beliefs scattering around me in shreds. All I’m itching for is a taste, a moment, a second of what happened back in my room.
No.
I can’t.
I elbow him hard enough that he backs up a little. I use the chance to get away from his hold, clutching the front of my chest so the dress doesn’t fall off. It has a built-in bra, so I’m only wearing knickers underneath it.
My breathing is high-pitched and loud like an animal’s as I stand by Papa’s conference table. Papa’s office. This is Papa’s office. What is wrong with me?
Reaching behind me, I zip up my dress and try to regulate my breathing.
Cole is still by the door, staring at me like a predator who can’t decide what to do with his prey. Although he already has.
He’s not the type of person who would start anything before figuring out the entire situation. He’s one of those who knows the ending before hitting Play.
It takes him one second, two…
He stalks towards me, slowly but surely.
“Stop right there, Cole.” I’m so glad my voice doesn’t shake.
“Why? Because you don’t want people to know you have the hots for your stepbrother?”