His Runaway Bride (Alphalicious Billionaires Book 7)

by Lindsey Hart

  The salty, raw, musky taste of him blossomed over her tongue and she let out a groan that the old Noemi would have smothered at all costs. Cason’s hips jerked into her face and his hands tangled in her now wet hair. His cock surged in her mouth, gently though, so he wouldn’t hurt her. He didn’t push his dick to the back of her throat and choke her. He was more gentlemanly than that, even while his thighs and hands trembled with what she guessed was his effort to control himself.

  She took him as far as she could in her mouth before she pulled back and explored him again. She used her tongue to trace the veins, to toy with his head, to roll it over the slit where the salty drops coated her tongue. It wasn’t enough. She reached up and gripped his shaft with one hand, guiding him into her mouth again. He was so big she could only take half of him, but she worked the base of his shaft with her hand and with the other, she cupped his balls. Another first. She’d never found balls to be overly sexy, but on Cason… his balls were nothing short of amazing. Heavy, velvety, warm.

  Apparently, he liked it a lot, all her combined efforts, because his hands tightened in her hair until it pulled and burned her scalp and his cock pushed back a little further into her mouth when his hips flexed involuntarily. He thrust in and out of her mouth gently, and she let him. She sucked and teased him and cupped his balls and when that rhythm intensified, she didn’t protest. She let him work her mouth and it was hands down the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

  A minute later, Cason groaned and tried to push her face away. “Going to come,” he ground out, like he needed to get the hell away from her.

  She wasn’t having any of it. She’d never let anyone do this with her before. She’d never actually wanted to. Instead of letting Cason pull away, she dropped his balls and greedily grabbed his ass, sinking her fingers in and ramming his pelvis back to her.

  “Jesus- fuck- Noemi…” His hands nearly ripped her hair out, but she sunk her fingers deeper into the rock-hard muscles of his ass- who the hell had an ass that hard anyway- and kept him close.

  His hips hammered into her, pushing his cock nearly to the back of her throat, even though she knew he was trying to hold himself back. His muscles jerked and vibrated and contracted beneath her fingertips and she felt his body tighten and spasm and then her mouth was flooded with shockingly hot liquid. It was thick and salty, musky and earthy on her tongue and she savored it before she swallowed. She kept going until he was finished, swallowing everything before she let him pull out of her mouth.

  He stared down at her with heavy lidded eyes, drunk looking, before he uttered something about being sorry.

  “What are you sorry for? I wanted you to finish like that.”

  She didn’t think it was possible, but two twin spots of color formed on Cason’s cheeks. Maybe he was just flushed from the shower or coming down the back of her throat for a minute straight, but she didn’t think so.

  “I- er…” He swiped a hand over his face. “Usually I last longer than a minute.”

  “It’s okay.” She pushed off her knees to stand in the spray.

  “Usually- the- my balls get left alone. Sorry, I acted like a sixteen year old kid getting his first blow job.”

  “I’m flattered. Truly. It was hot.”

  Noemi leaned in and wrapped her arms around Cason’s thick, strong neck. His pulse hammered at the side of his throat and a few of the veins stood out in stark contrast. She looked up at him and he stared down at her, unblinking, his pupils blown so wide they nearly ate up all the clue of his iris. God, it was hot to see that he thought she was hot too.

  “Since we were talking about sixteen year old fantasies and first times, this is mine. I- when we were sitting in the diner waiting forever for the service while the kitchen was probably burning down around us- and by the way, running back there was a crazy heroic thing to do. I assume you got the fire put out?”

  “Yeah. Smothered it with a massive set of oven mitts they had back there. The things went up to my shoulders. They did an adequate job.”

  “That’s amazing. You’re seriously a hero. The place probably got saved from burning down because of you.”

  Cason’s eyes narrowed, but only because his lids looked heavier. “What were you saying about fantasies?”

  “Well…” She couldn’t believe she was being honest like she was. Maybe the whisky was slow in kicking in, loosening up her tongue. “I- I thought about you like this. Naked. Pressed up against me. Our skin together. I- I did what I just did and then I washed you.” She glanced around. “But you don’t have any shampoo or soap.”

  A shadow filtered over Cason’s face, but he blinked, and it was gone. “Fuck the soap. You want to touch me? You can touch me all day long. All night long. Whatever.”

  “You- you wouldn’t mind?”

  “You just told me you imagined me naked, pressed up against you, also naked, then imagined sucking me off, all while you sat across from me at a diner, looking perfectly composed. Don’t get shy on me now.”

  Noemi snorted in surprise. “I- I know that sounds awful. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “It’s not awful. And there’s nothing wrong with you. Biology isn’t something anyone can control, at least not in their own mind.”

  “But I acted on it. Right now.”

  “I’m glad that you did. We’re attracted to each other. We’re both adults. Why can’t we enjoy a night of pleasure?” Something else flitted across his face, but he twisted away from her and turned in a slow circle, letting her get a good look of all of him.

  And all of him was incredibly impressive. His ass should get a world record for being so tight and muscular. Bounce a quarter off of it? She thought about the stupid saying and nearly laughed out loud. She could bounce a freaking brick off it from fifty feet and it would probably shatter on that ass.

  Her eyes strayed up and even though he was already turning back around to the front, she caught sight of the ridged scar, white and puckered with time and age, on his back just above his left hip.

  Her hand snaked out and caressed the scar. It was about four inches long and easily that wide. Puckered and raised, the skin was smooth under her fingertips, but that wrong kind of smooth that came from having to heal hard trauma.

  “What happened?” she breathed.

  Cason laughed, but it sounded strained and forced. “Tree fort incident. I was fucking around with some friends when I was fifteen. Being stupid. That was the end result.”

  “You didn’t get stitches?” Her fingers traced the pattern, but it was so irregular, almost square, that she couldn’t believe that a neat row of stitches had ever put him back together.

  “Nah. Didn’t want to bother with it. It healed up on its own.”

  She wanted to protest. Wanted to say that it must have hurt like the devil, but that was obvious. It was a wicked looking scar. Cason didn’t edge away, but she dropped her hand. She was touching his body and he was letting her, but he was still really a stranger and so was she and she shouldn’t be acting so familiar with him, like she had a right to his intimacy and his secrets.

  Right on cue, Cason’s stomach growled loudly. Since they were enclosed in glass, the sound seemed to bounce around the shower. She stared up at him in surprise, her body temperature rising as she watched beads of water slick over his shoulders and roll down a chest that should also end up in some records book. All of him should be cast into a statue and put up for sale at an art show. She couldn’t imagine the entire world not wanting to look at a man as beautiful as him.

  Her stomach tightened painfully, her nipples felt like beaded shards of glass and her sex throbbed agonizingly. She was thankful the shower masked how wet she was, because she was aching. She was debating about whether it was appropriate to ask Cason to pick her up and drill her into the glass and keep fucking her until she was raw and beyond sore, when he edged past her and shut off the spray.

  “Can I be the most clichéd date and ask you if you’d like to orde
r in pizza and watch a movie?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You mean- like- cuddle? On the couch?”

  “If it’s not in your fantasy, I can offer pizza and then-”

  “No- sorry. I- that was incredibly rude. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not… normally like this.”

  He raised a brow until he was almost smirking. “No? What are you normally like?”

  “Never mind. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply- I- I’ll just shut up now. I’m starving. You’re starving. Let’s do that. The movie. The pizza.”

  “Good. I was hoping you could say that. A guy’s got to keep up his strength.”

  The implication left her dizzy. That he needed strength to finish off the night in the way she’d just imagined. Maybe a little more creative than that. Her body ignited like she’d just been showered in gasoline and Cason threw a match at her.

  He stepped past her easily, like he wasn’t at all affected by what he’d just thrown out there. He grabbed a fluffy white towel off the rack by the shower and passed it to her first. She took it gratefully, wrapping herself up, wondering if she should put her clothes back on.

  Oddly enough, it was the only embarrassing thought she’d had all evening.

  “You can wear one of my t-shirts,” Cason offered. “Honestly. I’d like to see you in it. If we’re talking fantasies, that might be mine.”

  “That’s a very sweet kind of fantasy,” she said before she could keep the words in.

  He kept his face neutral as he stretched the same towel as he’d had on around his waist. The same towel that easily wrapped around her twice. “Yes, well… We’ll see if you still think I have sweet fantasies in an hour when I’m not on the verge of passing out from lack of food.”

  He left her like that, standing there in his bathroom, wrapped in his towel, burning into a pillar of ash.

  This was why she’d never done one-night stands. Because they were dangerous. Because she was always the most afraid, deep down, that no strings would always make her wish that there were at least a couple. That one night didn’t have to just mean one.

  CHAPTER 9

  Byron

  Byron literally didn’t have a fucking clue what he was doing. He’d gone from having a plan A- somehow track Noemi down and see if she could be bargained into some kind of deal or try and sit her down and see if she could see reason, had turned into Plan B- lie like a piece of shit, seduce an innocent, unsuspecting woman like an even bigger sack of shit, invite her over, and fuck her brains out on every surface of the house in every way possible and let her reciprocate to her heart’s content.

  Fuck. Fuck.

  He needed time to think.

  He truly was starving, but pizza seemed like a good call. It gave him time to get dressed, get Noemi covered at least, and put a little bit of distance between them so he could cool off and think rationally.

  Unfortunately, even after the pizza arrived, twenty minutes late, he still hadn’t managed to talk himself down. Probably because his dick was currently syphoning all the blood away from his brain and who the hell could make a rational decision when they were so hard they could probably karate chop a metal door in half with their cock?

  He realized that there was a very good possibility that he was going to fuck up everything he’d spent over a year working on. His company. His shoes. His father’s legacy. Everyfuckingthing. All because his dick refused to stand down. Literally.

  “This is really good pizza.” Noemi said it around a mouthful of said pizza, and god, it was hot as sin that she wasn’t too afraid to both stuff her face with carbs and talk with her mouth full.

  He knew so many women who wouldn’t touch a carb if it bit them in the ass. He’d been on a few dates, back when he believed in dating, where women he wouldn’t name, mostly because he couldn’t remember their names, had taken literally hours with the menu then decided on a side of broccoli as their meal. To each their own, but it was nice to finally meet someone who ate like a normal person. Hopefully, it wasn’t another first for her, but he doubted it. Noemi didn’t seem like a high maintenance chick.

  She probably rolled out of bed looking just as beautiful as she was at the moment. No makeup after their shower. Hair still damp and slightly frizzy on top. Huge eyes. Thick lashes. The most adorable nose and the fullest lips. Flawless. Radiant. Gorgeous.

  Far too good for him.

  Byron nearly choked on a piece of pepperoni. He coughed and thumped his chest. “Sorry. Inhaled that, I think.”

  Noemi looked at him strangely, half concern, half contrite, like it was her fault that he was too hungry and literally demolished a quarter of the pizza in a few minutes flat. “That’s okay. You don’t have to apologize,” she giggled. “Just don’t die on me.”

  “Don’t worry. You won’t have to see me again after tonight anyway.” It was supposed to be a joke, but Noemi turned her face so he couldn’t see her expression. He had yet to turn on a movie, but she studied the blank TV like there was something fascinating going on there.

  Shit. He nearly dropped a piece of greasy pizza on the couch that wasn’t technically even his, before he was able to lean forward and set it back on the edge of the box he’d flipped open on the coffee table. Fucking five-star gourmet right there.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought that…”

  “That what?”

  “That this was a one time thing. You were talking about doing some firsts. You showed up buzzed. Wanted to get a little more buzzed. I don’t know. I just got the vibe that you were kind of just using me to get over all the shit you’re going through. One-time deal, firsts included.” Her head cranked around so sharply her neck made an audible creaking noise. “Don’t worry. I mean, if that’s what you want, that’s totally fine. I’m good with being used by a beautiful woman. Use away.”

  “That’s not why I came here.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head in that emphatic, horrified, overly honest kind of way she had. Noemi was a good person. She wasn’t just a good girl. She was probably one of those people that was good straight down to the tips of their toes and clean through to their soul. The kind of person who would never want to hurt anyone else. He didn’t know much about her, which said a lot about him- that he’d chased her across the country in an effort to convince her to marry him just so he could sell his stupid shoes in Europe- but he was willing to bet that she would have volunteered. That she loved the hell out of her family. That she was one of those loyal people who would do anything for her friends and loved ones.

  “No.” Her lips wobbled, but thankfully her eyes remained dry. “That’s not what I came for.”

  “There’s no shame in wanting to do something with no strings.”

  “Okay, maybe it was what I came for.” She dipped her head, her face coloring again. “I- I don’t know. I did think about it briefly, a few times, but that’s not me. I know you don’t do that, but I don’t do- I’m normally not so- quick about things. I don’t rush into things. I don’t just do- what we did already so soon. I- I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t know what I’m even doing. I don’t know. I just…” Her eyes swiveled back to his face, almost frantic. “I’m sorry. You seem really- great. I didn’t plan any of this. You’re right, I’m in a bad spot. I wasn’t trying to use you. I am sure about that. I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. I don’t even know if I’m coming or going or my own name after everything that’s happened, but if you wanted to- I don’t know- hang out more, I wouldn’t say no. It’s okay though, if you don’t want to.”

  “I want to,” Byron said, and he meant that shit. One hundred percent meant it.

  Which shocked him. Scared the living hell out of him. Confused him. Confounded him. And made his cock ache a little more fiercely, if that was even possible. The damn thing was probably in danger of getting so hard it would snap right off with one wrong move. His balls felt like they were two balloons, getting fuller and f
uller until… BLAM.

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “Like, you’d want to go on a normal date? Or if you want to do the friends thing, that’s okay too. I don’t have any idea what I’m actually doing. I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”

  “A beautiful mess,” he amended.

  It earned him a deeper shade of red coloring on her cheeks. Noemi shifted on the couch, tucking her legs up under her so that his t-shirt covered absolutely everything. Fuck. How was that hot as well? How was everything she did so hot? She reached for a piece of pizza and started chewing on it thoughtfully, and that was hot too.

  “I was thinking that I’d pick a movie and try my best to very smoothly make a move, but if you’re not up for that, that’s fine too.”

  She actually snorted. “Oh my god. You’re the perfect gentleman. You’ve done everything tonight to try and convince me not to do this. Sort of. I thought maybe you weren’t into it, a little bit, but now I realize that you’re just really, really odd.”

  This time he snorted. “Odd? I’ve been called lots of things before, but never that. At least to my face.”

  “Yeah. Odd. You’re hot. Obviously. You’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen…” she had to look away to get that bit out and he stifled the urge to laugh. He didn’t laugh. Not often. With her though, he’d laughed. A lot. “You’re gorgeous. You’re stacked. You probably melt panties off when you walk down the sidewalk. Can you smell them burning? Do you stifle those fires with oversized oven mitts as well?”

  “Jesus.”

  “You must know that you’re attractive.”

  He’d blushed few times in his life, but there was something about Noemi’s intense scrutiny that made him feel like an eleven year old boy caught spying on his babysitter undressing or some shit. Not that he’d ever have done something like that. He’d never even had a babysitter that he could remember.