Page 38 of Mistletoe Mistake
Cole's eyes darkened as I called him by his professional name. After the previous night, we were both completely clear on what that meant: me giving up control to him, just like we both wanted.
In a matter of seconds, he slid around the booth to my side of the table, sitting right beside me with his hand upon my knee, the bare one exposed by the slit of my dress. My legs were crossed, partly to try to control my arousal, and I kept them that way. He would tell me if he wanted me to do something else. Rather than feeling oppressed by him taking control, it actually felt rather freeing to realize I didn't have to make any decisions about what came next. He would make the choices for both of us; all I had to do was obey.
Though I expected Cole to make a move immediately, he didn't. We sat that way for a while, his hand on my knee, his fingers tracing light circles as we talked about other things and drank our wine. He told me about his expansion plans for his hotel chain in Europe and some of the other projects he might want to get Holly and I involved in once we’d finished the London hotel design, while I told him about some of the other offers we had received since the Mayfair Mews event.
Incrementally slowly, his hand began to move higher up my leg. Each time it did, it sent an electric shock straight to my core, the anticipation just as good as the sensation. Part of me wanted to urge him to go faster, but a bigger part liked being at his mercy. He would get to it when he got to it; I could do nothing but wait.
“Have you heard anything from your lawyers yet about our contract?” Cole's professional tone of voice contrasted completely with the roughness of his fingers that inched closer to my hips.
“No, but they've promised to get back to me by Friday.”
I suppressed a gasp as Cole slid his whole hand between my legs and began to spread his fingers. Instantly, I understood the silent direction: he wanted my legs open. Trying to make the movement look natural to anyone who might be watching, I uncrossed my legs and spread them, the air feeling cool against my bare skin.
A moment later, the waiter came to bring the first of the seven courses of our tasting menu. He explained what the dish consisted of, some kind of fish, but I had trouble concentrating on anything other than the feel of Cole's fingers brushing gently against my folds.
“Sounds interesting,” Cole said after the waiter had left. “Let's try it.”
He picked up his fork with his left hand as if it were natural for him and not because his right hand was otherwise occupied. Following his lead, I also cut off a piece of the fish, but as soon as the fork hit my lips, Cole's finger brushed my clit. My mouth immediately clamped down on the fork as I tried not to outwardly react, and Cole also pretended nothing had happened, though I could have sworn the corners of his lips twitched again.
We finished that dish, still talking about work, and when someone came to collect the empty dishes, Cole's finger made contact with me again. This time I did a better job of hiding my reaction, which seemed to please him. As the second dish was brought out, the waiter set my plate down in front of me at the same time that Cole's finger slid into me.
“Th- thank you,” I managed to stutter, and the waiter gave me a slightly confused smile before leaving us alone.
Once again, Cole ate with his left hand while his finger swirled inside me, brushing once or twice against my sensitive g-spot and causing my body to flinch involuntarily each time. Though neither of us acknowledged it, he paid careful attention to my body’s reactions, dialling back when I squirmed too much and pushing the edge if I started to look too comfortable. The third course added a second finger, and with the fourth, his thumb began working my clit as his fingers moved slowly in and out of me.
My ability to speak coherently began to disappear. Cole continued the conversation on his own as if nothing was happening, speaking genially with the wait staff and with me, while I simply tried not to look as if I was falling apart. My cheeks must have been flushed, but no one seemed to notice. Everyone else carried on as if I weren’t being fucked right in front of them.
By the time the waiter set the fifth course in front of me, I could barely think. When I tried to pick up my fork, it fell limply from my hand.
Finally, Cole took pity on me. “This looks like the main course, Gemma. Are you ready for it?”
I could only nod. My body ached, desperate for release, so when he finally increased his pace, his fingers moving in and out forcefully with his thumb pressing down on me, it didn't take me long to reach the edge, agonizingly close to going over.
“Don't make a sound.” Cole's voice rumbled deep in my ear as he leaned over to whisper to me. “Come just for me, Gemma.”
Biting my lip as hard as I could, I followed his command. Waves of pleasure washed over me and my vision blurred, but somehow, I stayed upright and kept quiet. Not a single person in the entire restaurant seemed to notice a thing.
“Perfect.” He continued to whisper, his words meant just for me. “You're fucking perfect. Now, finish your meal.”
I let out a shaky laugh as Cole withdrew his fingers, finally letting me focus on my meal. I thought he might move away now that he’d finished, but he didn't. He stayed right beside me, his hand on my knee again while we finished the rest of the meal, with him still eating with his left hand, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
As if he hadn't just turned my whole world upside down once again.
Somehow, he made me feel like a completely different person, and I loved every second of it. The person he saw me as was the person I wanted to be: sexy, confident, comfortable with herself and unconcerned with what anyone else thought.
How could I ever go back to my old life once he’d truly finished with me?
~Cole~
Gemma coming on my hand at the table, trying not to let anyone know, might just have been the single sexiest thing I had ever seen and it left me uncomfortably hard for most of the meal. By the time we'd finished eating and I went to the washroom to clean up, I'd at least managed to think enough unsexy thoughts that I could walk without drawing attention to myself. Even so, I couldn't wait to see what else I could do to her once we got back to the hotel.
I thought my anticipation couldn’t get any higher than it had been the night before in the park, but now that I’d actually had her and knew what I had to look forward to, I wanted her even more.
First, however, we still had to fulfill my side of our arrangement.
“What exactly is this place we're visiting?” I asked when I sat back down at the table, flashing my black card at the waiter to let him know we were finished.
Gemma’s eyes sparkled as she laughed. “You waited until now to ask me? What if I’m taking you to a house full of clowns?”
