Cooper (The Family Simon 6)

“Open your eyes for me,” he said quietly.

She didn’t want to. If they were closed, she couldn’t see. If she couldn’t see, she could pretend that she was normal and whole…and deserving of a man like Cooper.

“Now,” he commanded.

Chest heaving, Morgan slowly fluttered her eyelids upward. Her mouth fell open at the look on Cooper’s face. It was dark and passionate—almost feral. But there was something else there. What that something else was, she didn’t really know. The only thing Morgan did know was that it made her feel safe. And wanted. And…

“You’re so fucking beautiful. You need to know that.” His hand trailed over her skin, the large fingers splayed across the mottled skin on her shoulder and then her neck.

“All of you. Every single goddamn inch. Never let anyone make you believe otherwise.”

His hands made their way upward, skimming the tops of her aching breasts, caressing the sensitive area at the base of her neck, before sinking into the tousled hair at her nape.

“All I can think about is being inside you.”

Ping.

The throb between her legs ramped up something fierce. His hand slid between them, down her body until it settled over the damp scrap of material between her legs. She bit her lip but wasn’t able to hold back the groan as he gently kneaded her through the cotton. Not once did his gaze leave her.

“I’m going to taste you.” His fingers slipped inside her panties and sank between her slick folds. “Right here.” He arched an eyebrow, a wicked grin touching his mouth. “Will you let me…” He thrust his finger inside her, his grin widening when she gasped. “Put my mouth right here?”

He curved his finger, and she gripped his shoulders, her body tensing at the wave of pleasure that rolled through her.

“Because I think I’m going to like the way you taste, Morgan.” He leaned close and swept his mouth across hers. “I think I’m going to like it so much, I might have to have seconds…”

His finger found that spot, the one that would make any woman fall to her knees.

She groaned.

He grinned.

“And thirds.” Again he thrust his finger deep inside, angled just so, while his thumb found her clit.

“Dinner was great,” he said, pulling back. Cold air fell across her heated skin, and everything inside her was on fire. He reached for her and scooped her into his arms, walking toward the large sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace.

“Wasn’t dinner great?” he asked again, gently laying her on her back.

Morgan nodded. She couldn’t answer, because at the moment, she couldn’t really function.

“But dessert,” Cooper said wickedly, reaching for the button on his jeans. He paused, that wicked grin once more in place. “Dessert is going to blow your mind.”

23

Cooper knew he needed to take his time with Morgan, but hell, it was damn hard to keep his shit together when he wanted her so bad. He wanted to be inside her…wanted to make her come and watch as she did. From all the pleasure. Pleasure he gave her.

Her sweet face riveted him. Her big eyes were so pale, they appeared colorless in the muted light. They held so much, and it was easy to see. This woman wasn’t coy. She had no agenda, no need to play games. It was all there for anyone with half a brain to see. Desire. Need. And fear.

He got it. The scars on her body were hard for her. He’d be a liar to say they hadn’t made him cringe a little—but not because he found them repulsive or ugly. Because he knew they’d caused her so much pain. More importantly, they’d been born out of tragedy.

He knew it had taken a lot for her to get to this point. To let him see her. The real Morgan. It made him want her all the more. Made him want to wipe away every last bit of fear and pain he saw in her eyes. Made him want to hold her up and never let her come down so that the shadows that plagued her could never reappear.

He wanted Morgan to have an amazing night. One that would free her from the chains holding her back. One that would awaken the woman inside. He’d had a small glimpse of the kind of woman Morgan could be, and he was hungry for more.

Cooper reached for his zipper and freed his aching cock. He smiled savagely, enjoying how her eyes widened at the sight of him. He was commando—boxers were overrated—and hard as a rock. He ached with need, his balls tight and ready.

He tossed his jeans onto the sofa and ripped off his shirt, taking a moment to calm himself. He really needed to clamp down on things, because, hell, how embarrassing would it be if he blew his load before he’d had a chance to make Morgan scream his name?

And there would be screaming. Lots and lots of screaming.