Part 24 (2/2)

”Take your clothes off. I want you to look at yourself.”

She was already shaking her head and stepping away from the mirror. ”I know how I look.”

Cole stopped her retreat. ”No, you don't, not even close.”

”But-”

”No buts.” He crossed his arms over his chest. He was not going to budge on the issue.

She pressed her lips into a tight line but after a long second began fumbling with her clothes.

”You know, this would go much easier if you take your clothes off too.”

He shook his head. Getting into flirtatious mode wouldn't get her anywhere this time. If she was aroused, she had no problems with nudity. But that was because she was turned on and her need outweighed her hang-ups, or her common sense, as she'd put it several times. That was not acceptable anymore. She was going to do this without s.e.x fogging her mind.

She must have realized he wouldn't give up, for she didn't insist and resumed undressing.

”Look at yourself,” he ordered as she finally stood naked.

”I know how I look,” she said, her downcast eyes filled with shame.

”No, you don't,” he countered, lifting her chin and forcing her to look at the mirror. He knew stripping in front of him was hard on her. Putting herself under his scrutiny and risking rejection was painful. What she didn't seem to understand was that he would never reject her. Ever. ”Look at yourself. You are beautiful.” She opened her mouth, but he stopped her. ”Yes, you don't have the body of a twenty-two-year-old girl. But you don't need to. You're thirty-four, babe, and you're gorgeous. h.e.l.l, I'm hard all the time when you're around.”

She reached for him, palming him through the jeans. No way. He wasn't going to let her distract him. ”Not yet, sweetheart. We have to clear up some things first. Keep looking at yourself. You are not fat.”

”I'm not particularly skinny either.”

He sighed and came closer to her, stopping right behind her and placing his hands on her hips. ”Listen to me, baby. Men like to have somewhere to grab. We don't enjoy making love to a bag of bones; we need curves and hollows to grab on to. Women's beauty ideal is not only skewed, but has nothing to do with ours. You may think we want some catwalk skeleton, but men are very partial to curves and t.i.ts and a.s.ses and soft, welcoming thighs.” She let out a shaky smile. ”Marilyn Monroe was a size 12, sweetheart, not a size 4.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in surprise. ”How do you know Marilyn Monroe's size?”

He shrugged. ”Aunt Maggie forces us to play Trivial Pursuit every Sunday, remember? I have lots of useless factoids in my head I don't seem to be able to get rid of.” Although now he was d.a.m.n glad for it.

”Here's a factoid for you: Angelina Jolie is considered the s.e.xiest woman alive. I doubt she's a size 12.”

”If you think I consider Jolie the s.e.xiest woman alive, you're talking to the wrong man, babe.”

Cole caressed her arms, then moved to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her stomach. Light brushes, enjoying how she got goose b.u.mps and her nipples hardened and a faint blush spread over her face and chest.

”My body is covered in marks, Cole.”

Big deal. ”Mine too, sweetheart.”

She snorted. ”Yours are war scars.”

”Yours too, Christy. I waged war with others while you waged war with yourself. It's the same. It's just life; there's nothing to be ashamed of. We both survived. This body tells its own story, and it's an amazing story. You are amazing.”

Christy looked at herself in the mirror and placed her hands over his. Her eyes were welling. She cleared her throat. ”Are you sure you aren't ashamed of me?”

Him? Ashamed of her? Was she joking?

The insecurity in her voice sliced through his soul. ”Of course not.” He all but snarled. ”Don't you ever dare to ask me that again. Ever.” He stepped in front of her and sank to his knees.

She eyed him warily. ”What...what are you doing?”

He pressed his face against her belly and kissed the small swell, filling his lungs with the smell of her, with the smell of home. ”You keep watching in the mirror. I'm going to kiss every one of those scars that you seem to think are so shameful.”

Christy was shaking in his arms, her big brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. He reached to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and worked those gorgeous mounds with his tongue and teeth, after which he nuzzled and kissed his way down, mapping her body with his mouth and fingers, sweeping his tongue over every stretch mark. Every dip and every swell too. He caressed her hips, her thighs, her a.s.s cheeks. Rubbed his face on her stomach. For a second he imagined her growing round with his child, and got dizzy.

He touched her with all the tenderness he didn't know how to convey in words, trying to show her what she meant to him, how precious she was to him, how precious her body was too.

As he paid homage to her, she broke into tears and covered her face, but he pried her hands off. ”No, baby. Watch me loving your body.”

She did until it proved to be too much for her, and she crumpled into him, her whole body jerking with her wrenching sobs.

”Shh, babe. I'm here. I've got you. Everything is okay,” he murmured as he cradled her in his arms and stroked her back.

He wanted so f.u.c.king badly to make her hurt go away, but he could do nothing but comfort her.

It took a while before all the pent-up grief worked itself through her and she calmed down. He didn't stop petting and murmuring rea.s.suring words to her, not even after she'd stopped crying.

Christy mopped her tear-drenched eyes with the back of her hand and smiled shakily. ”Sorry.”

He wiped the last of the tears and then kissed her slowly, letting his tongue explore the recesses of her mouth. She responded right away, pressing herself against him, giving him her tongue.

”Cole, please, get naked.”

He was dying to be inside her, but he beat the urge down. They weren't done yet. ”I want to hear you aren't ashamed of yourself first. I want you to recognize that your body is worthy of my attentions. That you're beautiful.”

She looked at herself. Stared at herself for a while. He held his breath. ”I'm not ashamed of myself. I'm worthy.” He frowned at her, and she capitulated. ”And I'm beautiful. Now, Cole,” she whispered, ”get naked. I need you.”

After laying her in the bed, he undressed without taking his eyes off her. G.o.d, he wanted her. Her inner thighs were glistening with desire, which was good because he was past foreplay. He slid in to the hilt, her sheath yielding to him, and they came together in a wet kiss full of longing and pa.s.sion.

”I want all of you,” she whispered as she lifted her hips to him.

”Are you sure, baby?” He pinned her with his gaze as he kept his strokes deep and steady. ”Because I want all of you too. What you haven't given to anyone else. I want your a.s.s, Christy. I don't want even an inch of you unclaimed by me.”

She faltered only for a second. ”Then claim me.”

Her words shot straight into his c.o.c.k. He thrust into her again and again, finis.h.i.+ng each plunge with a grind the way she liked it, until her sweet p.u.s.s.y clenched convulsively around him and she came with a strangled cry.

He rode her o.r.g.a.s.m, fighting not to come himself. Then he flipped her to her stomach and lifted her hips, keeping her chest down.

”Like that, babe. Perfect.”

He parted those sweet a.s.s cheeks and swirled his tongue around the puckered rosette, dipping inside before trailing down and licking her p.u.s.s.y, reveling in the quivers still racing through her c.l.i.t. He would have loved to eat her until she peaked again, but he couldn't wait. He reached for the tube of K-Y from the drawer in the nightstand, poured a dollop in her, and then lubed his c.o.c.k up. f.u.c.k, his hands were shaking.

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