My cup was almost empty, so I nodded, handing it over.
As Cole went to refill it, Carter continued, “Cole’s been away for the last few years—”
“I’m back now.”
“—and he’s returned to take over the Mauricio family holdings.” Carter’s tone dropped.
A shiver wound its way up my spine. Carter was trying to tell me something. I shoved all emotion aside and checked back in. “Take over,” he’d said.
Cole returned with my cup. He’d added a touch of creamer and sugar. How he knew I enjoyed it that way, I didn’t want to know, but I said, “Thank you,” as I took it and stirred it a few more times. I kept stirring, mulling over Carter’s words.
Then it hit me.
Cole Mauricio was the head of the family. He had come back. Whatever brought him back was the reason behind Carter’s words, a week ago: “I need to tell you what happened today, because it could affect us.” It was this guy.
“Nice to formally meet you, Emma.” Cole gave me a half-grin.
I saw it then. My gut had told me he was dangerous earlier, and I was right. Even now, he leaned back against the counter, but he leaned the way Carter did at times: his back to the wall, his arms open, always close to a weapon if it’s needed. And his eyes darted to the door—to an exit.
I nodded again to him. “And you. Carter doesn’t introduce me to many people from the Mauricio family.”
“Cole.” Carter stood.
He excused us with that one word, and Cole nodded, giving him a grin. “I’ll be in my office.”
Carter took the coffee from my hand. As Cole went down the hallway, Carter led me back to our bedroom. Once inside, he grasped my face and pulled me to him. An intensity took over, and he backed me to the wall. His lips were on mine, insistent, demanding.
“I need you,” he whispered, his lips commanding. “You were hurting last night. I wasn’t there to stop it.”
But he had. He had in so many ways he’d never know.
I tried to shake my head, to reassure him, but his hand raised my shirt. My body plastered against his as my back arched, keeping my shoulders and hips against the door. I wanted to feel him cup my breasts, tease my nipples, but he opened his mouth to kiss me more deeply. I felt him wanting to claim me, getting as close as possible.
I needed him, too. Right now. Right here. I needed the touch of my man. I needed to feel exposed to him, my soul displayed so we could connect on the deepest level. After last night’s feeling of impending doom, I needed to be reminded who I belonged to and whose soul belonged to me: Carter.
My mind turned off. I would let him do anything he wanted, as long as he was with me, always with me.
He held me, still pressed against the door, and my legs wound around his waist. My hands sank into his hair, and I gasped once for breath, then I kissed him again. I needed him. Opening my mouth, his tongue swept inside. It wasn’t enough. I needed even more. My hand fell to his pants, unbuckling them. He shifted so one of his hands was free and pulled down my pants. At the same time, my hand closed over him. He was hard and ready, and then he was at my entrance. He didn’t hold back. It was rough, hungry, and primal. I gasped, lifting my head for air as I closed my eyes. I wanted to savor this, the feeling of him inside me, but he didn’t let me. He pulled out and went right back in. He continued thrusting, holding me suspended against the door. His hips rolled against mine.
His finger touched my chin, and I opened my eyes. He stared at me with earnestness in their depths. He yearned for me as much as I did for him. I saw the same desperation and holding his face in my hands, I used my hips to thrust down over him, matching his rhythm. As I did, he closed his eyes.
“No!” I insisted.
His eyes flew back open. I needed to see him. I needed to watch him. When I did, I knew what was going on inside him.
He nodded slowly, thrusting harder, rougher, understanding what I needed.
We neared the climax. I felt mine coming. Carter scooped me against him and went to the bed. As I lay beneath him, he pounded into me. I soared over the edge, but I kept my legs wound around his waist, urging him to go as hard and as deep as he wanted.
He went deeper.
He went harder.
Then, as a guttural groan left him, I felt his release. He collapsed on top of me, his full weight bearing down on me, but he wasn’t heavy. He was mine.
After we could breathe again, he shifted to the side and pulled me against his chest. “I’m sorry you woke up alone.”
I nodded. He’d said it earlier. “I know. It’s fine.”