SO COLD (18+) currently editing

Chapter 63.5

SO COLD 

COLE DROVE AN ASTON Martin Vantage Coupe, its sleek body was coated in onyx black paint and the wheels raced smoothly on a stretch of black tarmac. Blurs of trees rushed past us and the engine rumbled – the sound was music to our ears – as he teased the accelerator, throwing me a wicked smile, stained red lips quirked upwards (we kissed maybe once, okay, twice) and he pushed the throttle forwards, increasing the power of the 4.7 litre V8 engine. We speeded up effortlessly. The sports car was agile, lightweight and a vehicle embodiment of an athlete. From 0 to 62mph in less than five seconds flat. Wind hit my face in a sharp slap, hair sprayed across the leather grey seats and I squinted in the face of exhilaration, mouth in an elated grin.

Breaking a handful of laws didn't bother me. There was no one around to see our mimicking of Need for Speed and we left civilisation a while back. "One day," Cole had begged from me. "That's all I ask from you. No work. No talks of business. Just us. What do you say?" I added no sex to his list of requirements and he had pressed his mouth to mine and opened the car door for me, tongue swiping over his bottom lip in a pleased smile. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. Get in. Let's go for a ride." Art had been sent to Oaktown to photograph and follow the target around for the day.

Half an hour later and the car was stationary at a dead-end countryside lane. In the distance was a speck of black and white blobs – cows. Gnarled trees, bowing in submission, were in clusters by an iron-gate that led a crooked stoned pathway to an abandoned and crumbling white-bricked home. Surrounding us was an empty two acres land with overgrown weed and grass and not a ghost wandering around. I got out of the car and slammed the door shut, walking around to the bonnet and pointing to a sign in front of the gate, covered in cobwebs and stained with bird shit. KEEP OUT! PRIVATE PROPERTY. The warning read in red font. "I'm really glad you're not white, Cole," I said. "If you were, you'd likely be dragging me into the haunted house to our inevitable and justifiable deaths."

He reached my side, hands on my hips, he pushed me so my ass met the hood of the car and his hot mouth met mine, no words, no explanation. It was greed and desire and the cat and mouse game had been brought to a sudden end. My stomach was warm with a fire-hot need and I curled my legs around his waist as his lips kissed along the curve of my throat, teasing the skin with his teeth. And then suddenly aggressive, his hands ripped my dress up over my hips and he lowered his head, kissing the insides of my thighs and further upwards, tugging my panties down my ankles, throwing them to the side, and I gasped slightly, hands fisted his curly hair as his tongue glided up my slit. "Ah, Cole," I groaned softly, pushing my hips upwards. His mouth closed over my lips and he sucked, the wet sounds erotic, and he glanced up at me, devilish glint in his lustful gaze and his tongue lapped at my juices. I didn't have any control over myself. I came quickly.

He straightened up slowly, fore finger and middle finger grazing against my wetness and he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting me again. I slid down slightly and reached for his belt buckle, unbuckling him quickly and tugging his trousers down to puddle at his ankles. His member was hot and throbbing in my hands, erect. He grabbed my jaw, growled. "You put me in your mouth and I won't last long," his voice was strained. "I need to fuck you. Now. Spread your legs." He pushed himself inside of me without warning, grunting and then in the midst of our brutal, animalistic and eager fucking, he laughed softly, head dropping in the crook of my neck in disbelief. "Shit. There's a motherfucking dog staring at us. To the right, look."