Coldhearted King: Chapter 21
The limo pulls up outside my apartment, and I look over at Cole. He’s been distant throughout our return trip, and I’m not sure why. It’s not like I’ve been a chatterbox, but that’s because I’m not used to this type of casual affair and I’m trying to wrap my head around what comes next. Nights like last night must be familiar territory to someone like Cole.
It had been hard for me to slip out of his bed in the early hours of this morning. Harder than I thought it would have been. I probably should have left after he gave me my fifth orgasm of the night, but I’d been so relaxed, filled with the gentle hum of residual pleasure, that I’d fallen asleep with my body still draped over his.
When I’d woken up a few hours later, I’d been shocked to find myself on my back with Cole’s hand spread over my stomach as he slept next to me. I expected he would have woken me and told me to go back to my own room. I really didn’t want to have that conversation, so I slipped out of the bed, put on my dress, and quietly left—sans panties, of course.
Heat suffuses my skin as I remember the way Cole ripped off my thong last night, but I take that hit of lust, package it in a little box in my mind, and file it safely away under things I’ll never forget.
Since Cole still hasn’t spoken and appears to be deep in thought, a line etched between his brows, I guess it’s up to me to end this. “Well, thank you for, uh, for the opportunity to, uh, visit the site and the gala and . . .”
God, could I be any more awkward? Do I thank him for all the orgasms? Pretend it never happened?
His eyes are on me now, and I’m not sure if the glimmer I see in them is amusement or something else.
“You’re welcome, Miss West.”
Miss West? I guess we’re going with the pretend-it-didn’t-happen option. I try to ignore the disappointment that wells in my chest. I knew what this was when I agreed to it.
I nod and put my hand on the door handle.
“I’m not finished with you, Delilah,” he says in a low voice.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you have something you want to talk about before the team meeting on Friday?”
He nods. “I do.” His gaze moves slowly over my face, dipping down to my breasts, then back up. “I want you again.”
My lips part and I blink at him. “What?”
“I want to fuck you again. I thought last night would get this out of my system, but there are still things I haven’t had a chance to do to you yet.”
Considering what he’s done already, I’m not sure what else he has in mind. But considering how my pulse has accelerated, my body really, really wants to find out. “So you want us to do this again? Another night?”
He doesn’t reply for a moment, just stares at me, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. “More than one night.”
I take in a shuddery breath, trying to get my head around what he’s suggesting. “You want to date me?”
I wince at the small snort that escapes him.
“I don’t date. But I don’t want last night to be it. I want us to work this thing out of our systems, and that takes however long it takes.”
I shake my head, unsure whether to be offended or flattered. He doesn’t want to date me, but apparently one—no, two—nights aren’t enough.
I can’t deny a large part of me wants more too. More of what we did last night, more of how he made my body come to life, more orgasms. But it’s not just the sex. He intrigues me. Most of the time he comes across as an arrogant asshole, but then there are those rare flashes of humanity. A glimpse of the man behind the coldhearted-billionaire persona. The man who told me my passion was beautiful, who made me feel more seen in a few words than Paul had in the months we were together.
But I know better than to romanticize this situation. Cole isn’t the kind of man to let people in. I need to be okay with that if I decide to go ahead with this arrangement. I can’t read more into it.
Not like Mom did with Dad.
“What would that mean for our working relationship?” I find myself asking.
“It doesn’t mean anything for our relationship at work. We’ll remain professional—”
“Professional?” I eye him as the memory of being pressed against his office door and made to come flows through me.
I see the memory hit him too, a small smile curving his lips. He dips his head and looks up at me through his lashes, suddenly appearing far younger than he is. “Exactly as professional as we’ve been so far.”
His playful expression is so unexpected that a laugh escapes me, and for a second we’re smiling at each other as if whatever this is between us is the start of something sweet and beautiful, not an office fling where my boss gets to fuck me out of his system.
The same thought must occur to him because his expression sobers. “Do you have an answer for me?”
There’s a sudden tension in his voice, a snap to his tone that sets my teeth on edge. I wonder about it coming so soon after that moment of boyishness on his part. Does he regret letting me see that side of him?
That glimpse pushes my decision over the line. I need some assurances from him, though. I won’t be blind to what this arrangement entails. “I have some stipulations.”
Satisfaction flares in his eyes as he realizes what my statement means, but his only reaction is to lean back against his seat, his seeming relaxation offset by the way his hands curl into fists where they rest on his thighs. He inclines his head for me to continue.
“I know this is casual and temporary, but it has to be exclusive. If you decide you’re done, you need to tell me before you move on to someone else.”
Understanding flits across his face. “The same goes for you,” he says. “I don’t want you letting another man touch you while you’re mine.” There’s the barest hint of gravel in his voice, and those words and that tone cause heat to curl low in my stomach and my nipples to tighten. Crossing my arms will only draw his attention to my physical reaction, so I will him to remain blind to the way they’re pushing against the thin material of my shirt.
It’s useless though. Cole’s eyes drop to my chest and narrow before rising to focus on my face.
“So we’re agreed,” he says, and the gravel that was barely there before is in full force now.
I swallow, wondering if I really have any clue what I’m doing, but I nod anyway. Apparently, a night of incredible sex has made me reckless.
Cole works his jaw from side to side. “Come here.”
I move toward him, a gasp falling from my lips as he hooks his arm around my waist and hauls me to him so that my knees are on the seat and I’m straddling him.
“What are you—”
“Sealing the deal,” he growls, and the next moment, his lips are on mine in a rough and demanding kiss, his teeth tugging on my lower lip, tongue thrusting deep to claim my mouth.
I moan as his hands find my hips and he drags me down until I’m centered over the hard ridge of his cock. My eyelids flutter shut as he uses his hold on me to rock me against him. Little sparks of pleasure ricochet out from my core.
Too soon, he pulls back, his lips curving up at the little sound of protest I make. “As much as I would love to have you ride me right now, kitten, I don’t want Jonathan hearing you scream.”
“You didn’t mind the driver last night.” I don’t know why I’m arguing the point, since I’m not particularly comfortable with Jonathan hearing me either.
“You’ll never see the driver from last night again. I don’t want Jonathan thinking about how you sound when you come every time he looks at you.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. It’s not exactly the most romantic thing to say, but somehow it still makes my heart flutter.
I climb off him and straighten my clothes so what I’ve just been doing isn’t obvious. I watch him from under my lashes, but his expression is unreadable again.
Once I’m a bit more put together, I clear my throat, completely unsure how to proceed. “So, I’ll see you next week?”
“Yes,” he says, and his voice has lost the heat that filled it only a few minutes before.
I guess that’s that then. I nod and open the door, but before I can get out, he stops me.
“Delilah.”
I turn back to him.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I smile. “Me too.”