Dirty Rich Cinderella Story: Ever After: Lori & Cole

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “CIA?” Lori asks incredulously. “That’s unexpected. At least that means he’s not dangerous.”

  “Royce said CIA doesn’t mean he’s not dirty or dangerous. We should hold for more information. We’re not telling Ashley yet. He wants to wait. We’ll know more in the morning.” The elevator dings and we enter. “And now we’re really home.” I take her hand. “Come on.” The minute I’m touching her again, the air is charged between us. I lead her down the hallway and once we’re in the apartment, we leave our bags behind and I have her hand again, with one destination in mind: our bedroom.

  We walk there in silence, and I know she can tell there is more on my mind than undressing. I guide her into the bedroom, but not to the bed. I walk us to the floor-to-ceiling window, and I pull her in front of me, the city lights dotting the inky sky. My hands cage her, and hers rest on the glass. I nuzzle her neck, inhale her scent, and I want to ask questions. I want to ask her how that attack made her feel. What she feels. What she fears. But I know Lori. She felt she had to be strong for me, and she built that damn wall again, that I had to have Reese jolt me into seeing that. The wall has to come down and without knowing it that first night when I spanked her, I had torn a piece of it down. I made her feel safe when she wouldn’t normally feel safe. I have to make her vulnerable. I have to make her safe in that vulnerability and that means taking her someplace we haven’t been. That means pushing her limits, tearing down her guard.

  I sit down on the chair behind us. She turns to face me, leaning on the glass, a question in the silence between us that I answer with a soft command. “Undress, Lori.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Cole

  Lori is still standing in front of the window of our bedroom, the New York City lights speckling the night sky behind her. I’m still in the chair where I sat down, leaving her in front of me and with good reason. I need to be in control and not for me tonight, but for her. I’ve let my past make her feel she has to revert back to the days before she met me when the world was on her shoulders and there was no one to hold it up but her. I made her revert back to a place I never wanted her to be again. To a place where she didn’t know I was there, holding it up for her. And so, we go back in time the way she has, and I remind her that from the day she met me she instinctively trusted me. She let me spank her. She let me be that person and place where she could just let go.

  I remove my jacket and toss it aside, but Lori still hasn’t moved. “Undress,” I order again, as I had when I first sat down.

  “You want me to undress?” Lori asks, a tentativeness to her words that isn’t normally there, not with me. As if she senses what’s in the air, as if she feels exposed and vulnerable when I’m the man who loves her, who would die for her.

  “Yes,” I say. “I want you to undress.”

  “You undress, too,” she orders softly, but she doesn’t move. She makes no attempt to undress when she’s done it for me before, on the night we met, in fact.

  “Not tonight,” I say. “Not yet. I want to watch you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I do and because I want you to want me to.”

  She studies me for several long beats and then kicks off her shoes. Her jacket comes next. She tosses it on the chair on top of mine. “My blouse. You had to zip it this morning for me. I need you to unzip it now.” We both know she can get it off herself and we both know that she’s obviously trying to pull me back into the same space with her when I’ve set us apart for a reason. She expects me to stand up, to help her, but I don’t.

  “Come here,” I order.

  Obviously assuming she’s won back control, she does as I say, but I don’t touch her and I don’t stand up. “Turn around.”

  She turns but still, I do not stand. “On your knees.”

  She rotates to face me. “On my knees?”

  “Yes, sweetheart,” I say, my hands going to her hips, offering her reassurance. “On your knees so I can get to the zipper.”

  “But you—”

  “Stop asking questions. Do what I say and do it because you trust me.”

  Her eyes soften, an earnest look in their depths. “I do trust you, Cole.”

  “I know you do, but I think you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t,” she says, her hands settling on mine. “Not even for a moment.”

  “Then turn back around and go down on your knees.”

  This time she doesn’t hesitate. She turns and goes down on her knees in front of me. I reach out and brush her hair to one side and when I could unzip her blouse, I instead close my hands on her shoulders and press my lips to her neck. I want her to feel vulnerable, but I also want her to remember that this is me, this is us, and that means she can just let go. Just be with me.

  She inhales with the touch of my lips, and lowers her chin, absorbing the touch, giving herself to the moment, and this pleases me. This tells me that wall is not wide or high, and just knowing this has me hot and hard, ready to pull her to me and make love to her, but that won’t force her to pull that wall down. She’s guarded herself with it for far too long. I reach up and drag the zipper of her blouse down to the middle of her back. Two of my fingers follow, gently gliding up and down her bare back. Goosebumps lift everywhere I touch, this reaction telling me she’s one hundred percent right here with me, exactly where I want and need her.

  The room is silent, complete utter silence, except for our breathing, and I let that encase us, let it consume us, let it tell us that there is only us here now. I slip my hands under her blouse and caress the silk off her shoulders. A soft sound escapes her lips and the barely there sound echoing through the room, heats my blood. I unhook her bra, and then she drags it all up and over her head, and when she would stand up, my hands settle on her shoulders, holding her in place. “Don’t move until I tell you to move. Understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “I understand.”

  I drag my hands down her shoulders, settling them for a moment at her slender waist before I’m traveling over her ribcage and cupping her breasts. She can’t lean into me, not with her feet against the chair and that forces her to arch into my hands. I squeeze her roughly, my fingers closing over her nipples with no gentleness in my touch. She moans and covers my hands with hers, trying to turn, but I don’t let her. That’s not where this is going. I lean forward, widening my legs to press my cheek to hers, my hands settling back on her shoulders. “Stand up. Take off everything but don’t turn around. Go down on your hands and knees.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Repeat it. What are you going to do?”

  “Turn around and undress you.”

  “Not tonight, sweetheart. Tonight, you’re going to remind us both how much you trust me.”

  “Cole,” she breathes out. “You know I trust you.”

  “Show me. Tell me what you’re going to do and then do it. Now. Tell me now, Lori.”

  She pants out several breaths. “Stand up. Take off everything but don’t turn around.”

  “And then what?”

  “Go down on my hands and knees.”

  “Yes. Now do it and if you turn and face me, it ends. I’ll go take a shower and we stop.”

  “Why would you do that?” she demands, obviously believing me, as she should. This isn’t a night that I spank her for punishment.

  “Tonight is all or nothing,” I say. “We’re all or nothing, Lori, and this is what we need tonight.”

  “You mean it’s what you need?”

  “No,” I assure her. “It’s what we need. It’s what you think you don’t need. Trust me.”

  “I do,” she whispers again and she moves, standing up and stepping toward the window. She stands there for a minute, no doubt, reminding herself of the vow she’s just issued. She trusts me. No doubt convincing herself this is about me. She is doing it for me because Lori does almost everything for someone else, not herself, but this is very much
about her.

  She reaches for the zipper of her skirt, and slowly eases it down, sliding the material over her hips, and allowing it to pool at her feet. She kicks it away and reaches for the silk of her barely-there thong and holy fuck I want to go to her, to tear it away or just pull it down, but I do not. I watch her pull it down her hips until she is stepping out of it.

  She’s left in thigh highs and when she reaches for one of them, I say, “Leave them and you know what comes next.”

  “I turn around and undress you,” she says, her voice raspy with a mix of nerves and arousal that pleases me. She’s not thinking about anything but here, now, us.

  “Another day,” I say. “Another night. Knees, Lori.”

  She eases to her knees and when she would go down on her hands as well, I stop her. “Not yet. Stay just like that. Understand?”

  “Yes, Cole, I understand.”

  I pull off my tie, remove my shirt and shoes but leave on my pants, which ensures I have an extra layer of control. I then grab the tie again and walk to stand above Lori, between her and the windows. She looks up at me, her beautiful eyes laced with anticipation. I kneel in front of her, my gaze raking over her naked body, her high breasts, and pebbled nipples. “Lace your fingers together.”

  She glances at the tie and then me, letting me see her understanding of what’s about to happen and her agreement. She laces her fingers together in front of her. “I’m going to tie you up,” I say, despite her silent agreement. “Any objection?”

  “No,” she says softly. “No objection.”

  I wrap the silk of the tie around her wrists and bind her. When I’m done, my hands settle on my knees. “Don’t move. Don’t turn.” I search her face for agreement before I stand and walk into the closet and remove another tie from a drawer. I then kneel in front of a drawer, where I’ve placed a box filled with things I’ve wanted to share with Lori but have not. Not yet.

  I return to the living room, set the box on the chair and then kneel behind her. For several seconds I just stay there, not touching her, my breath warm on her neck, until she gasps out, “Cole,” and my name is a plea. To touch her. To fuck her. To end the blind torture, and yet it’s just begun. I slip the second tie around her eyes and knot it into place. I lean into her then, press my cheek to her cheek and whisper, “Now I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Cole

  With Lori in front of me, her hands bound, eyes blindfolded, I repeat my words. “I can do anything to you, and you can’t stop me.” I slide my hand up her belly and cup her breast, a rough touch that promises I plan to push her.

  “But I can stop you.”

  “How is that Lori?”

  “I trust you. If I say no, you’ll stop.”

  “Will I?” I challenge, tugging at her nipple.

  “Yes,” she pants out. “You will.”

  This is what I want from her: total trust. “Remember that.” I run my hands up and down her body and she leans into me, exposed and vulnerable but fearless. She is with me. I’m holding her. This is safe for her, but it’s not enough. Even bound, this is her safe zone and that doesn’t tear down walls. I shackle her waist. “Hands on your knees and don’t move.”

  I release her and ease back on my heels. She arches forward, grabbing her knees, more out of the shock of me no longer touching her than anything, I am certain. “Relax,” I say, and it’s a soft command, the kind I know she needs right now. It’s not about being in control. It’s about letting her let go of her control.

  She inhales deeply but eases down into a full kneel in front of me, and her spine is straight, her hands on her knees. A submissive position that is all the more powerful because I know this woman submits to no one but me. I decide against the box, but I open it, grab a bottle of heated gel, and slide it under the chair. It’s for later. It’s too much right now, for this night. She’s too guarded, we have too far to go, and knowing this kills me. I let her get here. I let us get here by allowing my past to control us.

  Everything I might have done to her tonight shifts, changes, softens, but that doesn’t mean I won’t push her. I will tear down those damn walls. I will make her let herself feel what she’s buried inside over her attack. I know what burying things rather than facing them does. I did it and that’s why we’re here now.

  I squat behind her, touching her nowhere, but my hands caress an outline of her body. She tilts her head back and arches into the nonexistent touch as if she feels it; that’s how connected I am to this woman and that’s what I need her to remember tonight. Nothing she can feel or express or need is outside of my understanding. I reach up and just barely run my fingers over her shoulder, goosebumps lifting on her skin. I follow the touch with a true caress across that same stretch of creamy white skin, and down her upper arm. I repeat the same action on the other side. The barely there touch of her shoulder, the full caress down her arm.

  A heavy, quivering breath escapes her lips, telling me how on edge she is, and I stroke the silky strands of her brown hair away from her delicate, slender neck, my hand on her naked shoulder, my lips at her ear. “I own you tonight.” I brush my lips over her neck and then whisper in her ear. “And that means I’m going to push you and push you some more.” My lips trail down her neck to her shoulder, where my teeth scrape before my tongue soothes that bite.

  She yelps and I lave the offended skin with my tongue. “I promise to make it hurt really good.”

  “I don’t like being tied up,” she whispers.

  I reach around her and pull her back against my chest, my hands cupping her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples. She moans and I lower my head to ask. “What don’t you like?”

  “I want to touch you.”

  “I want you to touch me, but not yet.” I lean around her and kiss her, her lips and tongue reaching for mine, the taste of her hungry and yet uncertain. Desperate and yet reserved. It’s the unknown that is consuming her right along with me.

  I squeeze her breasts. “Lean forward on your hands and knees.” My hands fall away from her.

  “Are you going to—”

  “Spank you?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “You might like that a little too much to make it a surprise.” I smack her backside. “On your hands and knees.”

  She yelps with what is a surprise, arching against my touch, but she pants out a breath and does as I command, her palms flattening in front of her, her perfect backside lifted high in the air. Her hands and knees are on the soft thick brown rug that I’m damn glad I let the decorator talk me into buying. I stand up and undress, just the sight of her on her hands and knees, thickening my already hard cock. I wrap my hand around it, a momentary memory of her on her knees in the shower, her mouth on me, almost my undoing. I want to drive inside her, to fuck her, and start all over, but no. That’s isn’t what I’m going to do.

  I settle on one knee beside her, pressing my hand between her shoulder blades, and leaning into my hand on her lower back and slender belly. “On your elbows.”

  She complies, and I drag my hand down her spine to rest on her backside while my lips press between her shoulder blades. “What are your limits, Lori?” I ask, my teeth scraping her shoulder again.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asks urgently.

  “Make you forget everything but me.” I press my hand to her belly.

  “Success,” she whispers. “I’m already—”

  The fingers of one of my hands brush her nipples, while the other traces the line down the center of her beautiful bottom. She never finishes her sentence and that’s how I want her. Speechless, mindless. I squeeze one of her breasts and then the other, tweaking her nipples, only to abandon them and move behind her, flattening a palm on her lower back, my other hand sliding up and down the center of her backside, stopping just
over her sex, the wet heat of her arousal radiating over my palm. I know what she likes, I know what she wants. I give her a slight smack there, not meant to cause any pain, just pleasure. This delivers her earthy, wanting gasp and I can hear her breathing now.

  I grab the gel and pour it on my hands, pressing my palm to her sex, and sliding the liquid over her. She whispers my name and I slide a finger along her sex front and back, dragging all the wet heat up and down her entire body, lingering in that intimate part of her I have never dared. “Cole,” she whispers, panic in her voice. “Cole, I—”

  “Easy, sweetheart. Only pleasure. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know. I just. I—”

  My fingers press inside her sex. She pants and I sink them deep and spank her at the same time. She arches into the touch, and I do it again, pulling my fingers back and thrusting them inside her at the same moment I spank her. “Sink to the ground,” I order.

  She does it almost on instinct and the minute she’s on the floor, I roll her to her side and then to her back, spreading her legs and sinking between them. I waste no time giving us both what we want. My mouth closes down on her clit, suckling, licking, stroking. She moans low and deep, sexy as hell. Her knees shackle my shoulders, telling me how on edge she is, how in need. I respond. I give her more, my fingers pressing along her sex, but this time when I enter her, I penetrate her front and back. She goes stiff but a few strokes of my tongue and she eases into the sensations. I’m gentle where I need to be gentle, placing all intensity on her sex with my fingers and my tongue and she quakes into a sudden, intense orgasm.

  I bring her down, and when her legs stop trembling, I untie her hands, and slide up her body, tearing away the blindfold, my pulsing thick erection setting between her legs. My eyes meet hers and the heat and intimacy between us is scorching, the trust there is a new level of trust, and we need no words. I press inside her, watching her lashes lower as I stretch her, fill her. “This is where I want to be the rest of my life,” I tell her. “And this is how I want to taste.” Her lips part and I claim her mouth, kissing her, the taste of her on my tongue now on hers. It’s a slow kiss, a passionate kiss, and our bodies begin to sway and pump.