by Sam Crescent
I stand and throw back the remaining champagne in my glass. Tonight will not end like this.
I stroll into the penthouse. The lower level is quiet. She either bolted out the door or marched up the stairs to the second floor. My temple pulses as I take the stairs two at a time.
When I reach the master bedroom, I find Celia standing at the window, staring out to the dark Gulf. For a moment, I watch her. The knot of her blonde hair hangs even more loosely after our table romp. I hadn’t had the opportunity to fully appreciate the back of her dress, which is non-existent to centimeters above her luscious behind. The grip of her dress around the curve of her hips beckons me. She’s beautiful from all angles.
I saunter into the room and stop behind her. She tenses, her shoulders rising.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have handled the situation that way. You are an equal in this relationship.”
She puffs out a sardonic breath.
I cup her shoulders and turn her to face me. A line etches between her brows and the corners of her mouth turn down.
“I am sorry.” I brush a few blonde tendrils behind her ear. “I don’t want this night to end this way.”
She looks away.
I cup her cheek and turn her head toward mine. “Celia, I know this is probably not how you dreamed your wedding or your wedding night would turn out.”
“To be honest, I didn’t really have any dreams of my wedding. Getting married was the farthest thing from my mind.” She pulls her lips into a tight line and meets my gaze.
“Regardless, I planned all this. The location. The judge. The dinner afterward. I never asked you if there was anything you wanted. Needed.” My thumb sweeps over her jaw. “I arranged this marriage—yes. But I hope you know that I want you to want to be here.”
I’m not usually a man who discusses his feelings. In fact, I’m sure there are plenty of people who believe I have none. But my gut tightens at the idea of her dreading every second of her decision to show up tonight, even if only to save her father.
“Can you ask me now if there is anything I want?” The corner of her mouth hitches into a sexy smirk.
I nod. “Is there anything you want, Mrs. Walker, to make this day yours?”
She steps back, breaking my contact with her. She catches the straps of her dress and pushes them down her arms until the top of the dress bunches at her waist, exposing her beautiful full tits.
I practically swallow my tongue. My breath lodges. This sensual woman is my wife. She is all mine.
She eases the dress over her hips and the material pools at her feet. She stands before me in nothing but her silver heels and diamond necklace.
A devilish sparkle lights her gray eyes. “Fuck me.”
Chapter Eight
Celia
Eric’s gaze devours me. My skin tingles as he takes in every inch of my nakedness.
His chest rises and falls in rapid succession and his hands squeeze into fists. This man does everything he can to leash his power. He remains in control of every situation, making his demands in cool, even tones. Never giving away that feelings lurk anywhere below the surface.
Until now.
He inhales and closes his eyes.
When he raises his lids, the fire blazing in his expression and the tight pull of his mouth shows the hold on his control is slipping.
My breasts grow heavy and my nipples pebble at the idea that he will unleash everything on me. And I want him. I’ve wanted him for years. My belly flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement.
He mutters something under his breath. Before I can blink, I find myself pinned to the wall behind me by six feet-plus of solid, hot male. His clothed body presses into mine. Heat emanates from him like nothing is between us, scorching me.
“I wanted to do right by you.” He nips my lower lip with his teeth, then swipes his tongue over the area to soothe the sting. “I didn’t want tonight to be just about sex.” An unexpected tenderness hovers in his voice.
My chest squeezes. I never gave deep thought to why he bargained for me. He’d never have a problem convincing one of the many women who have adorned his arm to accept his name. But he chose me, and not just because he wants to nail me. Eric Walker has feelings for me. This revelation grounds me at this moment. In my bratty tantrum, I missed his gestures showing me.
He slips a hand into my hair and untangles it from its knot. Golden waves cascade over my shoulders and tickle my sensitive skin. He glides his hands down my arms and rests them on my hips, holding me in place. Goosebumps pebble over my skin, and my heart hammers against my ribs. His caress is sensual yet firm.
“But you’re making that very hard.”
He circles his hips into mine, allowing me to feel the long, stiff length of his erection. My breath hitches. Warmth settles between my legs. I’m so greedy to feel this man inside me. I’m on the brink of living out my fantasies. But I’ve never felt closer to this man than I do right now. He could have let me stew or followed me up here to continue the fight I started. Instead, he’s seducing me in the most amazing way.
He slides a hand up over my abdomen and ribcage, trailing heat over my skin until he cups my breast, plumping the flesh. His fingers roll and tug my nipple. My head falls back against the wall with a soft moan. He’s going to torture me with pleasure.
“How does a man say no to you?” His gravelly voice tickles my ear. His tongue traces the shell.
I sigh. “You’re the only one to try.”
He chuckles. “Has anyone been successful?” He raises his head to look at me, his hand still fondling my breast.
“Only you.” I reach up and unbutton the top button of his white shirt. Then the next. And the next, revealing the contours of his chest and abs. A light dusting of hair covers his defined pectorals. The need to touch him overtakes me, and I slide my hands over his warm skin.
He sucks in a breath.
“Until now.” I stare up at him. Some men his age have let their bodies go, succumbing to life, but Eric’s is a seductive work of art. And it’s mine—for now. I want to bask in this moment.
He tilts my head and takes my mouth with intense possession, tasting me with slow, deep licks. I whimper, my hands pushing and clawing at his shirt in an effort to remove the material. He answers with a groan that vibrates through me, tightening my nipples even more. He releases his hold on me to slide off the shirt and throws the fabric to the floor, never breaking our kiss.
I melt into him, raking my hands into his hair. His carnal kiss sweeps me away. I catch the curve of his bottom lip between my teeth and bite gently. He groans, the sound sliding over me like a caress.
Gripping my hips, his fingers flex into my flesh. His breath punches out quick and harsh. He crushes me to him with a groan and delight rushes through me at our skin-to-skin contact. He lifts me from the floor and carries me toward the bed.
My thighs hit the mattress, and I sprawl across it in nothing but my silver heels. Eric settles over me. His gaze meets mine, heat simmering in his blue irises. My dreams of being under him are no comparison to the real thing. My body tingles with the pleasure of our contact.
Lowering his head, he takes my nipple into his warm mouth. He sucks hard and fast, kneading the flesh in his hand.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He flicks his tongue over my nipple and gently rolls the peak between his teeth.
A breathy sound escapes me. I grow even wetter from the heat of his mouth.
“The things I want to do to you. With you,” he says against my breast.
“Do them,” I moan. I hook my legs around his calves and grab his taut behind, pulling him into me. “All of them.” I thrust my hips, savoring the feel of his cock through the pants he’s still wearing.
I draw him up and take his mouth, my lips sliding desperately over his. I may not have contemplated marrying this man, but I did envision this moment—many times. I don’t know if this relationship will last four months o
r forty years, but I’m going to enjoy every benefit of being Mrs. Walker.
I link my fingers behind his neck and hold him to me. His erection lays heavy against my sex, pressing into my throbbing clit.
“Please, don’t stop.”
He slides a hand underneath me, cupping my behind and lifting me into a skillful roll of his hips. I cry out at the pleasure that ripples through me.
“I couldn’t stop if I tried.”
I dig my nails into his back, dragging them from his shoulders to the waistline of his pants.
He arches his back and growls. “Do that again.”
I obey. His growl deepens.
He rolls to the side and rests on one forearm, his bicep flexing. I’ve dated athletes with less muscle definition and sex appeal. He squeezes my breast with his other hand. Lowering, he surrounds my taut nipple with his hot mouth. His velvet tongue lashes my flesh. Sharp need torpedoes to my core.
I clutch his shoulders, needing to ground myself in the moment. My body is under siege. My breasts are heavy and my sex is swollen and eager for him.
He nips across my cleavage to my other breast. His deft fingers tug at my damp nipple he’s left behind, rolling it between his fingers until my back arches off the bed. He slips further down my body, licking and nipping across my ribcage and over my abdomen, luring me with his whispered promises. You’re so beautiful. Have to taste you again. Mine. All mine. His tongue traces my belly button and over the bar still piercing my navel.
I’m out of my mind when his mouth brushes above my sex. He lowers to the floor and drags me to the edge of the bed, separating my legs. He peppers my inner thighs with kisses before pulling back to look up at me. An inherent need to cover myself rolls through me—I feel vulnerable under his intense gaze—but I resist the urge to close my legs. I want this. I’ve never wanted anything more.
He strokes a finger through the lips of my sex, teasing my clit. “There may have been other men who have been unable to resist you in the past, but you’ll be wise to keep those stories to yourself.” He slides a finger excruciatingly slowly into me. My low back arches off the mattress. A deep, dark sound rumbles over him. “This magnificent cunt is mine.” He pulls his lower lip between his teeth and pushes his finger deeper. His eyes never leave mine. “There will be no one else to make you come apart, no one else to bring you pleasure. That job belongs to me now. And I will do it every chance I get.”
Lust ripples through me at the gruffness in his voice.
“Do you understand that?”
Warmth spreads over my skin. I’m on fire. I nod because I’ve lost the ability to form words.
He presses his thumb against my clit and rubs. Yes. I writhe on the bed, unable to lie still. He slides another finger inside, filling me. Lifting his thumb, he lowers his mouth to my sex and flicks his tongue over the bundle of nerves. My body vibrates with need and brazenly rides his plunging fingers and mouth.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says between licks. “Take what you need. Come again for me.”
His raspy voice pushes me over the edge. I explode. My core quivers. I tense.
He doesn’t let up. His mouth and fingers stroke my sensitive core until every last wave of my orgasm subsides.
He stands and raises his fingers that had just been inside of me to his mouth. Closing his lips around the tips, he tastes me. A deep moan rolls through him as if it’s the sweetest delicacy.
“I need you inside me.” I’m still hazy from the orgasms he’s wrenched from me, but watching him suck my juices off his fingers has me hotter than I’ve ever been. I need him. Now.
His lips twist into a smirk like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and he might withhold from giving me what I request just to tease me, but he undoes his pants and pushes them and his boxer briefs to the floor. He stands naked before me, his cock long and thick.
My eyes widen. I’ve been with several men, but none as beautifully built as Eric. He was made to pleasure a woman. His cock stands erect, long and rigid. His lean muscles twitch with his restraint. He wants to do right by me, and even though I’ve asked him, begged him to fuck me, he’s taking his time. This isn’t just a quick romp in a hotel room. He’s making love with me.
Climbing onto the bed, he stretches over me, skin-to-skin. The heat and weight of him are delicious. Nudging my legs apart with his knee, he nestles between my hips. Circling his pelvis, he strokes the wide crest of his cock over my clit, wetting his dick with my arousal. My body tightens and tingles spiral out to my nerve endings.
“We haven’t talked about protection, but I want you to know I’m clean.” He rotates into me again.
I bite my lower lip as a swell of pleasure rolls over me. My core is so sensitive to the touch. I’ve never been so thoroughly taken care of.
“But I do have condoms if you prefer, until I prove it to you.” His voice is strained.
“I’m on the pill,” I whisper, barely able to find my voice. “I don’t imagine you’d lie to me about your health.”
He brushes my hair off my face. “I won’t lie to you about anything.” He presses his lips to mine in a searing kiss.
“Then take me,” I murmur against his mouth, wrapping my legs around his and holding him to me.
He rests on his forearm and stares down at me. “You’re beautiful.” Then he thrusts hard into me, gliding on my arousal. “Fuck.” His eyes glaze over in pleasure, and his arms tremble. The control he seemed to have seconds before vanishes as he fills me.
I cry out, completely filled. My pussy clenches desperately around him. I claw at his back. It’s too much and not enough. All at the same time.
“You’re so wet and swollen for me. It’s so damn tight.” He squeezes his eyes shut and pumps into me again. “Jesus Christ.” His fists claw at the white bedspread around us.
His groan flows over my senses. He’s brought me to numerous orgasms tonight and has never taken his gaze off me. I want to see him now. I want to see what I do to him, if I’ve broken down any of his walls as he has mine. “Open your eyes,” I breathe.
His lids snap open at my command. “You want to watch me come apart?” He pants.
“Yes.”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and withdraws, dragging the heavy head of his cock against the sensitive tissue inside me. Then he pistons into me, stretching me even more. He repeats this move. His brows draw together in deep concentration and his breaths barrel out of him. But his gaze stays focused on me.
“God, no one’s ever been so deep.” I undulate my hips, meeting his drives and spurring him on.
“No one else will ever have the chance.” His voice is hoarse.
“No one else.” I repeat his words on a particularly skillful drive forward. And I mean it. Emotions flood me. I’ve never felt this way during sex. Never wanted this connection so much. “Yours.”
He grunts at my admission and fucks me harder like a man possessed. He nails me to the bed with relentless strokes of his cock. Our bodies are slick with sweat. The crest of his dick rubs my insides like an expert, hitting the bundle of nerves deep within.
I moan and arch my back.
“That’s it. Let me hear how much you enjoy this.”
“Eric.” My legs quake around him. I didn’t think I could come again, but his adept thrusts massage my clit. It’s too much. I scream and fall apart underneath him, shaking violently. My fingernails dig into his shoulders.
Raw sounds escape him. His thrusts are erratic, like a wild animal lost to instinct. I try to focus despite the bliss and warmth washing over me. I want to see him come. I want to feel him. I want to know he is as much mine as I am his.
He arches his neck. His whole body jerks, then shudders. His cock swells inside of me, and I tighten my core, squeezing him. His mouth pulls tight into a grimace of anguished pleasure and he comes with a roar. His orgasm is so hard I can feel come inside of me.
He collapses against me, burying his face in my neck. His chest
heaves. My arms and legs hold him tight.
This man knows how to fuck. He didn’t just thrust in and out of me. He worked me with his cock, manipulating positions and depth. He said I couldn’t handle him between my legs. That he’d ruin me for other men. He was right. I’ve never been sexed like this, and I’m one hundred percent positive there isn’t another man alive who could do such a thorough job. I’m in complete ecstasy. I can’t wait to do it again.
“Mine,” I say clinging to him. My heart swells at my proclamation.
He lifts his head, his brow glistening from perspiration. He pulls my hand from his shoulder and places it over his chest. His heart hammers. “All yours, Mrs. Walker.”
My heart cinches. I am completely his.
The End
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LOVING OBSESSION
Allyson Young
Copyright © 2021
Chapter One
The rap on the door startled her, and she set her textbook aside. After making her way over, she peered out the peephole and took a step back. The tall man standing in the hall wasn’t a stranger, but certainly someone she never wanted to see here. It didn’t matter that he was hot sin on two feet, he was a representative of home and a downright scary one.
“Sorcha.” Her name carried through the panel, although he didn’t speak loudly, and his deep voice made her shiver. “Open the door.”
Sagging against it, she struggled to adopt a modicum of calm and buy herself a minute to think. She’d spoken to her father only this morning, noted his distracted demeanor, and now accepted that something was up. But to send the Hunter? “Why are you here?”
“If you don’t want your neighbors to hear our conversation, open up.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I’m here to take you home. Let me in.”
Instantly rebellious, she stepped away and picked up her purse while toeing into a pair of shoes. She eased up the window over the fire escape, blessing the fact she’d chosen an older building.