“Please,” I begged him without shame. “Preston, please, please fuck me, I need it, I need you, please—”
Preston sucked at my earlobe and shuddered against me, like he could barely hold himself back. I was so turned on I felt like I might actually lose my mind, but he was avoiding my clit, avoiding the things that would let me orgasm. I whined desperately, almost beyond words.
“I love how desperate you get,” Preston murmured, his voice smooth and rich and low. I moaned again.
“If you love it,” I snapped, “then why don’t you fuck me properly?”
Preston laughed, the sound punching out of him like he was surprised, and he sat back on his haunches, pulling his fingers out of me. “Fair enough.”
I heard the rustle of a condom being put on—I couldn’t tell if he’d come prepared or if the hotel had provided it and both options were amusing—and then Preston was holding me again, his chest pressed against my back.
“You sure you’re ready?” he teased, as if he couldn’t already tell.
“I will kick you,” I warned him.
Preston laughed again and then he was finally, finally parting my thighs, my folds, and guiding his cock into me.
God, yes.
19
Preston
Not that I was ever going to admit this to Lyric, but teasing her wasn’t just for fun. It wasn’t just to drive her crazy. That was just a great side benefit.
No, it was to give myself some fucking time so I didn’t blow my goddamn load the second I slid into her, like I was a sixteen-year-old all over again. Fuck.
Lyric was perfection. I never wanted to stop fucking her. Getting inside of her—the goal of it, the idea of it—made my head swim. I couldn’t disappoint her by just sliding in and being a two-pump chump. No way. I wanted to give her such a good time she was ruined for all other men.
Maybe I could chalk it up just to the competitive part of me, but…
Having dinner with her tonight had been wonderful. The moment she’d walked into the hotel lobby and I’d seen her, I’d felt all of my troubles melt away like snow in sunlight. Getting to talk with her about my family, about dating life—I’d just found myself thinking, why the fuck would I ever try and go into dating when I had what I needed right in front of me?
Why would I try to hook up with someone else, or try a dating app or a singles’ bar, when this gorgeous woman that I thought was fantastic was sitting across the table from me? Why would I do that to myself?
The entire time, I tried to be dropping hints about it—that Lyric was the one that I wanted—but I wasn’t sure if she was picking up what I was putting down. When she jumped right into the sex—well, I was never going to say no to sex—but I was a little disappointed. I wanted to dance with her. To be properly romantic.
I would find time to do that later, I promised myself. Right now, this gorgeous woman wanted me to fuck her, and I’d put it off for long enough, teased her for long enough.
God, that blowjob she’d given me—I never wanted a blowjob from someone else, fuck. She’d been so fucking perfect. If nothing else I had to reward her for that. Besides, my patience was at an end. I had held off until I could get myself back under control and not just wildly fuck her and leave her high and dry, and now it was time to make good on all of my teasing.
I slid inside of her, and the both of us moaned. I missed being able to see her face, but doing it like this I could get so deep inside of her, I could hold her, press her up against my chest. Lyric gasped, shaking, and pressed up closer to me, arching to try and get me to move.
She felt so fucking good. She was so tight and hot around me, even with all my other attempts to hold off, I had to count backwards from ten in my head a few times to keep my self-control. Jesus.
I had never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted her, never felt as satisfied as I did with her. Being with Lyric was like putting on a comfortable, well-worn sweater, one that fit my body so well, one that I just loved. Why try and find someone else when I already had this perfect woman right in front of me, someone I felt comfortable with, could talk about my shit with, someone who checked off all the criteria for my ideal partner?
I kissed along her neck, getting a handful of that thick, beautiful red hair and tugging on it, exposing more of her throat to my mouth—and then, finally, I started to thrust into her.
Lyric gave a long, low moan of satisfaction. Like she had been dying of thirst in the desert and I’d finally given her a glass of water. I kept my thrusts a bit shallow at first, not sure how deep this position would go for her, if it would hurt—but she encouraged me with gasps and cries of my name, until there was no way I could hold back.
I fucked into her hard and fast, giving her the fucking she craved and needed. Lyric clawed at the bedsheets, shoving back into me, eager for more. I gave it to her, over and over, thrusting and grunting, feeling completely out of control. I wanted her so badly even as I had her. I wanted to somehow be even closer to her. I wanted to fuck her so good that she would never want anyone else. That she would feel for me the way that I felt for her—addicted, infatuated, in—
In love.
Fuck.
Of all the moments to realize, of course it was when I was in the middle of fucking her. But I’d never truly stopped thinking about her after Amherst. After that fateful night. I’d never really gotten over her. It was like nothing at all to fall for her again when I’d seen her once more, when we’d had that great weekend together.
We fit, like two puzzle pieces, and how could I not fall for her when she seemed to slide into my life like she’d been there all along? She fit every idea of what I wanted when I thought about the kind of woman I would marry, the kind of woman I would spend the rest of my life with.
I slid my hand around to her clit, rubbing at it, and Lyric sobbed out my name. Fuck, I loved how she said my name while we were fucking. I didn’t want to hear anything else, just that cry of my name over and over. I wanted her to feel as good as I felt, I wanted her to be screaming in ecstasy…
My thrusts into her grew erratic. Just as I’d thought, I couldn’t last long. Not where Lyric was concerned. I was so lost in her. I buried myself into her again and again, until the only sound competing with her moans was the perfect filthy slap of skin on skin as I drove into her to the hilt every time.
I kissed along her spine, her neck, gentle, sucking kisses that probably seemed to her to be at odds with my furious pace as I thrust into her. But just because I couldn’t help how much I wanted to fuck her didn’t mean that I couldn’t also show her my affection. I wanted this to be as good for her as it was for me.
Lyric trembled in my arms as I stroked through her folds, feeling where my cock was sliding into her, rubbing against her clit every so often—just enough to tease and keep her on edge but not quite enough to make her come. I wanted her to be out of her mind with pleasure for me just as I was with her.
She felt so fucking good. I felt like I could spend the rest of my life inside of her and that would be enough. Like the world had narrowed down just to this, the two of us. I moaned as she clenched around me like a vice. It was so good, she was so good—I wouldn’t be able to last much longer—
My orgasm, like a hot wave of lava, rose up in me. I gripped her hips hard and shoved myself inside of her a final time, my hips slapping against her ass. Lyric gave a broken cry, probably in frustration since she still hadn’t orgasmed yet. As much as I loved the feeling of her orgasming around me, though, getting even tighter and wetter, I had another plan for her tonight.
I pulled out and turned Lyric over, spreading her legs as she panted and stared wild-eyed up at me. Before she could even say anything, I bent down and began to lick at her.
She tasted so sweet, and she was trembling like a leaf in the wind. It wasn’t going to take long for me to send her over the edge. I pinned one of her thighs down with my hand and hooked her other leg over my shoulder so that I have full access to her dripping cu
nt.
Lyric moaned as I started to thrust my tongue in and out of her. “Preston—oh God Preston please you’ve been—teasing so much, please—”
“What if I kept teasing you?” I asked. I kissed along the inside of the thigh I had draped over my shoulder. “What if I kept you on edge just like this until I got hard again and could fuck you a second time?”
Lyric just about wailed. “Preston—I need to come, please—please I need it so badly—”
“I know you do, darling,” I promised her. I smoothed my hands up and down her legs, trying to soothe her. “I know. I’m going to give it to you. You’ve been so good, you taste so damn good.”
God, I did want to tease her though, and keep her on edge like that until she couldn’t even speak to beg for me to let her come. I wanted her soaking the entire bed in her slick, I wanted her screaming incoherently when she came, tears leaking out from how fucking good it felt.
But it was already getting late and we had to be up at an early hour tomorrow. And if I went so far, indulged too much—Lyric might see the revelation I’d only just had. I wasn’t ready for her to see that. I wanted to woo her properly, not accidentally dump my emotions all over her like some kind of middle school idiot trying to ask out the head cheerleader.
If I played my cards right, I would soon have all the time in the world to draw out her orgasm, to leave her on the edge, to take my sweet time with her. We could take a weekend and have it be a proper getaway, just days of losing ourselves in each other’s bodies.
So instead of teasing her, I dove right in again, licking and sucking at her clit. Lyric’s hands dug into my hair and she cried out, thrusting up into my mouth, trying to grind her clit against my tongue. Desperate girl. I fucking loved it.
I pressed the flat of my tongue to her clit and let her grind herself to orgasm, flooding my mouth with those sweet juices, my name a sob on her lips. She was shaking so hard afterwards, like her body was still rippling with aftershocks. I could only sit back, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand, and admire my handiwork.
Lyric finally stopped shaking and stared up at me with sated, heavy-lidded eyes. “Somebody’s pleased with themselves,” she teased.
“Me? Proud of a job well done?” I replied, crawling up her body so that I could kiss her. “Never.”
I had no idea how long we kissed like that. I was just hungry for her mouth, and I knew she could taste herself on my tongue from the surprised, pleased noise she made. Yeah, that was the ticket. I kissed her even deeper, lowered my body over hers and savored the way she drew me into her, wrapping her legs around me.
God, she felt so good. Even just like this, holding onto me as we made out. Just getting to be close to her, to feel her skin against mine, to bask in her warmth…
Fuck, I was so far gone.
“You’re such a good girl for me,” I teased her. “Holding out like that. You could’ve gotten yourself off any time, you know.”
“Mmm,” Lyric hummed in acknowledgment. “But it feels better when you do it.”
The compliment sent a fissure of residual heat down my spine. Could she mean that in a romantic way as well? Could she be feeling the same way for me that I was feeling for her?
I didn’t dare hope, not just yet. We had to get this damn marriage shit out of the way first and then I could pursue her, woo her, just like any other man could go after the woman he wanted. The woman he was in love with.
I didn’t want to let her go. But eventually I pulled away so that we could clean ourselves off. “Want to see if this tub’s big enough to drown a horse in?”
Lyric laughed. “I doubt it.”
She followed me to the bathroom anyway and we climbed into the shower together. It was a generous shower, definitely big enough for two. Whoever’d designed this had the whole honeymoon suite thing in mind and had known that couples would be using this shower at the same time.
Part of me wanted to fuck her again, but—early morning. I settled for scrubbing her back and washing her hair, gently working shampoo and then conditioner through the thick strands. Lyric insisted on doing the same to me, her fingers massaging firmly on my scalp, and between that and the hot water running over us, I closed my eyes and thought… this was the closest thing to bliss I’d ever felt.
I worried she might put a pillow between us when it came time to climb into bed. Instead, Lyric gave me a shy, almost sheepish look as we got in, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. I realized—she wanted me to hold her, like when we’d slept in bed at the mountain mansion. But she wasn’t sure if she could ask for it.
After settling myself on my side, I pulled her in, tucking her face under my chin. Lyric sighed, and I could feel the tension leaking out of her muscles. I grinned silently up at the ceiling. She was in my arms, where she belonged. I would have to make sure that she realized it, and that I made it a safe place for her. I wanted her to know that I would always hold her. That this was how it was supposed to be.
“Goodnight,” Lyric said softly. So softly that I almost didn’t hear it.
I stroked her hair. “Goodnight,” I replied.
She passed off to sleep remarkably quickly. I felt flattered. It took me a little longer—I actively fought off sleep. I wanted to savor it, savor her. I didn’t want to fall asleep and miss out on this lovely moment, this precious time.
But sleep did claim me eventually, and the next thing I knew the damn alarm was going off.
I supposed I should be grateful for setting it. I was so damn deep in sleep that I wouldn’t have woken up on my own and we definitely would’ve missed the appointment. I hadn’t slept so well in years. In fact, the only other time I could remember sleeping that well recently was when we’d been in the mountains and Lyric had been in my arms then.
Neither of us really said anything as we got up and got dressed, but I could feel Lyric’s eyes on me, furtive glances sent my way when she thought I wouldn’t notice. She seemed nervous. Was she wondering the same things that I was?
After we got this marriage declared invalid, the first damn thing I was doing was inviting her to lunch and telling her that I wanted to give this relationship a try. I wasn’t going to miss a single minute of opportunity. We had to get this marriage out of the way, since, well, we hadn’t even started dating yet and I didn’t want the legal shit getting in the way for either of us as we tried to live our lives.
But once it was—I would be honest. I would tell her that I was falling in love with her. That I wanted to be with her, and hang the differences in our lives. We would figure it out.
Except our marriage wasn’t declared invalid.
Lyric literally gaped up at the judge, her mouth hanging open in shock. I was feeling pretty damn shocked myself.
Judge Harris seemed like a reasonable guy, but apparently not when it came to this. “I really don’t see what’s a dare or a joke about this marriage, Mr. Clark.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lyric blurted out.
“Are you telling me you can’t grant our motion?” I asked.
Well, the associates at the firm would have a field day. This would be the first case I’d ever lost, and what a damn case it was. They’d be laughing about this for weeks.
“Of course I can’t,” Judge Harris replied. He had those large, bushy eyebrows that seemed to move with a life of their own. “You two cohabitated right after the fact, and according to your records you just spent the night in the honeymoon suite at a hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Clark.”
“We were literally snowed in,” I pointed out. “In the blizzard that hit two weeks ago. Miss Dean is the wedding planner for the wedding, she was frazzled, there was a miscommunication, the priest married us and was stubborn. He wouldn’t undo it even after we explained the situation. We’re strangers, Judge. We got stuck in the mansion where the reception was supposed to be held and the wedding went to pieces in town while we had no cell reception.”
“You can’t be doing this.” I recogni
zed Lyric’s tone—it was taking on that high, panicked edge that it had gotten in the church. “You can’t be serious. I can’t be married to him!”
I was shocked that Lyric’s obvious panic and distress wasn’t softening the judge’s heart. It pissed me off, honestly. How could someone have a woman in front of them, near tears, and refuse her plea?
“We haven’t spoken to each other in the two weeks since then,” I added. “You’re welcome to check our phone records. The one call we had, I placed to explain the travel arrangements back here to Miss Dean. I’m a lawyer so she trusted me to handle everything.”
“And the hotel suite?” Judge Harris asked, sounding disbelieving.
Well, that was my own fault. And now it was coming back to bite me in the ass. Shit.
“You were booked into the honeymoon suite,” the judge prompted.
Lyric turned betrayed eyes onto me. “You said that you booked us separate rooms!” she accused. “Adjoining rooms! And the hotel upgraded us! Did you actually book the honeymoon suite in the first place!?”
The few other people in the room—the security guard and the stenographer—all looked awkwardly at anywhere but at us. I couldn’t blame them. Lyric’s anger was so strong I could practically feel it hitting me in burning waves.
“Mmm.” Judge Harris looked contemplative. “Sounds to me like this isn’t a joke at all. I think you two need to work out your relationship.”
“There is no relationship to work out!” Lyric practically screamed, starting to hyperventilate. “I haven’t seen this man in five years, I used him for a quick stand in since the selfish, spoiled bride and groom decided having a quickie in the limo was more important than getting to their wedding rehearsal on time—and then I was stuck with this asshole in the snow with no cell reception—and now you’re telling me—”
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