A Wedded Arrangement (Convenient Marriages, #3)

by Adams, Noelle

  She sucked in an outraged breath but got distracted by the stubble on his jaw. She leaned over and brushed her lips along the texture of it.

  “Oh fucking shit,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. He was still propped on the stool, but he parted his legs and drew her between them. “You’ve devised a new method of torturing me, haven’t you? Even after I brought you your favorite food.”

  “This isn’t torture. Or punishment.” She grabbed a handful of his curls, unable to keep her hands off them.

  “Then what is it? Because I’m totally fine with never kissing you again. Until twenty minutes ago, I’d always assumed it was a nonstarter with you, so I never even tried. But if you keep doing this to me, then I’m going to have some trouble not getting my hopes up.”

  “You can...” She found his mouth again and ran her tongue along the line of his lips. “... get your... hopes up.”

  He grabbed her head and deepened the kiss. His body was blazing hot, his hands and mouth openly eager. When he finally broke away, he began to plant little kisses around her mouth and asked between each one, “Just... how high... should my hopes... get?”

  “All the way up,” she murmured, arching back as he lowered his face to her neck so he could tease the throbbing pulse in her throat. “Your hopes can go all the way up.”

  She must have surprised him, because he raised his head, eased her a step backward, and stood up.

  He took her head in both hands and met her eyes. “Are you serious about this, Savannah? You want to have sex with me?”

  It might be easier to just get swept away by passion, but he was checking in with her right now, and she appreciated it. “Yeah. I want to have sex.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes. Surely asking once was enough.

  “If you’re going to hate yourself tomorrow morning, it would be better to stop now.”

  She scowled. “I’m not going to hate myself. I might hate you if you keep up this interrogation instead of fucking me like I’ve asked.”

  He made a choked sound of amusement and reached to pull her back against him. “Consider the interrogation over.” He was almost smiling—that smug, ironic expression that was purely Lance—as he stepped her backward until her butt hit the edge of the dining room table.

  He leaned down to kiss her again, and this one was deeper and more intense and almost sloppy in its urgency.

  She gave herself up to it completely, letting go of the inhibitions she’d kept around her as a safeguard her entire life and letting herself feel, want, take without reservation.

  Lance lifted one of her knees as they kissed and hooked her leg around his thighs. She was too short for their groins to be perfectly aligned, but it was closer now. She rubbed herself shamelessly against him as he slid his tongue against hers.

  She was so turned on already that her arousal was a deep ache between her thighs. Her hair was sticking to her face, and Lance’s loosened tie was annoying her. She pulled on it impatiently, trying to get it off.

  “Wait,” he gasped, letting go of her thigh so he could rescue his tie. “You’re gonna strangle me if you keep at it that way.”

  “Well, get it off. It’s in the way.”

  He was chuckling, warm and soft, as he easily undid his tie and pulled it off. As soon as it was gone, she attacked his white dress shirt, unbuttoning it with clumsy fingers and then yanking out the shirttails from his trousers. He wore a white undershirt beneath it, but she was getting closer to his bare chest. She pulled the dress shirt off over his shoulders, only for it to get hung up at the cuffs. They wouldn’t go over his hands.

  “Damn it, Lance,” she muttered. “Is it entirely necessary for you to trap yourself in your clothes like this?”

  “Hey, you’re the one in charge of this part of the operation. If I were undressing myself, I’d already be buck naked.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle at that as she worked on his cuffs. Her attention was focused on the lower part of his body, and she couldn’t help but notice he was hard in his trousers. Visibly erect. Already. He clearly wanted this just as much as she did.

  With a silly sound of victory, she finally got the shirt off and flung it over the island.

  Lance was smiling down on her as she reached for his T-shirt, and something about the nature of the expression gave her a sudden clench of nerves.

  She wasn’t sure exactly why she’d decided to do this, but she was definitely going to do it. She needed to maintain a proper distance in order to come out of it intact on the other side, however, and Lance’s smile was somehow a threat to that distance.

  So she said as she unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the loops, “I’ve never had casual sex before.” When he didn’t reply immediately, she glanced up. “If you’re trying to count up the number of times you have, I don’t need an exact figure.”

  He laughed softly, very dryly, as he grabbed the bottom of her top and pulled it over her head. “I’ve never had anything except casual sex. So as the expert, I’d suggest you not overthink it and just go with it.”

  “That’s my plan.” She grabbed his head again and pulled him down into a kiss. It was just as hot as their last one, and he used the embrace to heft her farther onto the table. She kissed him until she was breathless and squirming with need. Then she broke their mouths apart to pant, “Just so it’s clear, this doesn’t mean I like you now.”

  He nuzzled at her ear, causing shivers to run up and down her spine. One of his hands was palming her breast through her bra, chafing the nipple with the heel of his hand. “I never would have thought otherwise.”

  She gasped in pleasure at the feel of his mouth and hand. “I still don’t like you.”

  “Understood.”

  “This is just some sort of hate-sex kind of thing.”

  “Nothing in the world wrong with hate sex.” He was mumbling the words out against her skin as he mouthed a line down her neck and then leaned over enough to give her nipple a very soft bite that made her cry out sharply in pleasure.

  When her mind was working again, she was able to say as he reached around to unhook her bra, “I guess it’s more like halfway between hate sex and casual sex. Somewhere on the continuum.”

  “After waiting nine months, anywhere on the continuum is just fine with me.” When he pulled the fabric away from her breasts, he stared down at them with naked lust. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.”

  “Thank you.”

  He kept staring, his eyes aflame and his body perfectly still. He was flushed and messy and visibly aroused, and he was almost gaping at her bare breasts.

  It was hard not to let that go to her head.

  Deciding she’d waited as long as she possibly could, she took her bra out of his hand and flung it over toward his shirt. “I’m ready, Carlyle. Let’s get going.”

  He slowly raised his eyes to her face.

  “I said I’m ready,” she repeated. “You ready too?”

  “I’ve been ready for an endless eternity,” he rasped.

  “Nine months isn’t an endless eternity, but it’s long enough. So take off your pants and get moving.” She was already sliding off her yoga pants and panties and left them on the floor where they dropped.

  “You want me to get a condom? I’ve got some from last year, although they might be expired by—”

  “I’m on birth control. We’re both healthy. We’re fine. Just get going.” It literally felt like her arousal might throb its way right out of her body.

  He was working on his trousers as she propped herself back up on the edge of the table. He frowned. “We can use the bed—even for casual-slash-hate sex.”

  “No time for that. Just get to work.”

  Chuckling, he dropped his pants. He wore black boxer briefs that fit his lean body snugly, and the sight of him in his underwear, his hard-on trapped by the fabric, might have been the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

&nb
sp; “How long does it take to get your dick out?” She grabbed for his shoulders and pulled his body between her legs. “I’m ready now.” Maybe in a different situation she would have been embarrassed by her shamelessness, but she wasn’t remotely embarrassed right then.

  She was nothing but hot and eager.

  “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” He reached in and pulled out his erection, pushing his underwear down to get them out of the way but not taking them off.

  She stared greedily down at him. There wasn’t a part of his body she didn’t like the looks of. She mumbled under her breath, “Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.”

  He moved them into position at her urging, stepping closer to the table, parting her legs, and then lifting one of her knees for better access. With his other hand, he aligned himself at her entrance, using his fingers first to make sure she was ready.

  She was wetter than she could ever remember being in her life, so readiness wasn’t an issue for her. “Do it, Carlyle,” she breathed into his ear, wrapping one arm around his neck and arching her back. “Do it now.”

  He made a guttural sound as he pushed his hips forward in a thrust, pausing midstroke to adjust her leg and his angle.

  Both of them gasped loudly at the initial penetration. He panted against her neck as she rolled her hips as best she could. Her position didn’t allow much motion, but he was thick and tight and big inside her, and it made her want to squirm as her body adjusted.

  “Okay?” he asked, his breath still wafting against her ear.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m going crazy here. Get to work.”

  He didn’t move immediately, despite her demand. He shifted his weight and hooked her leg more securely around him, and then he braced himself with one hand on the table. In that position, their faces were level with each other. He was sweating visibly, and his eyes were closed.

  “Damn it,” she gasped. “I need you to—”

  He pulled back and thrust forward hard, the move making both of them grunt. “That okay?” he muttered, pausing again with the length of him inside her. “Too hard?”

  “No, it’s not too hard. Do it again. I need it. I need it.” She pushed some hair out of her face and got a good grip on his bare shoulders.

  After that, he built up a steady motion. It wasn’t fast, but it was hard, urgent, almost rough. Every time he pushed forward, her whole body jiggled. Her hair. Her breasts. The flesh on her thighs. And even her clit.

  It was really working for her. An orgasm tightened and kept building as he fucked her. It wasn’t long until both of them were making matching sounds with every thrust. Sharper than moans. Louder than grunts. The sounds she was making—that Lance was making too—were raw, primitive, more carnal than anything she’d ever experienced.

  She was clawing at his shoulders as she felt her pleasure reaching a peak. His motion accelerated. He grunted like an animal against her ear in time with his rough motion.

  He was getting tenser. Louder. Faster. A small part of her knew what was happening just before it did. He let out a long, low, helpless sound in his throat before his body started to shake against her. His hips rolled and jerked as he came, the tension in his body breaking deliciously. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, the words breaking into his moan of satisfaction. “Damn it all.”

  But she wasn’t quite there yet. She made a sobbing sound and tried to ride him urgently as his motion slowed.

  “Damn it, Carlyle,” she whimpered. She was close but not close enough.

  His body was starting to soften.

  “I know. I know. I’ve got you.” He lifted his head and straightened, his softening penis slipping out of her as he moved. He was flushed and mussed and utterly gorgeous. “Hold on a minute. I’ve got you.”

  She had no idea what he meant by that until he reached for her again. He stepped between her legs the way he’d been before, but this time he lifted her leg even higher and slid two fingers of his other hand inside her.

  “Oh God.” She shifted slightly to feel more stable on the table, gripping his shoulders again. “Oh God, yeah, use your hand.”

  He started moving again, rocking her body with the same rough, primal motion. But this time he was taking her with his hand. It wasn’t the same, but it was definitely working. He was curling his fingers to reach her G-spot.

  “That doing it for you?” he asked, his mouth against her ear the way it had been before. “Two good, or you want three?”

  “Three. Use three.” She dug her nails into his shoulders as he tightened the penetration with three fingers. “It’s working. It’s definitely working.”

  He kept pushing into her, his fingers pumping fast and hard. She was so wet they made a sloppy sound beneath the rasp of their breathing.

  Her hands kept moving down his arms, feeling the hard contours. His muscles were flexing from his position, and the feel of them spoke to her in a primitive way.

  “Oh God,” she mumbled, trying to kiss his neck but missing and getting his shoulder instead. “You’ve got the best arms known to man.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah.” She arched at a sudden jolt of pleasure. “Oh God.”

  It took her a couple of minutes to work up momentum again, but soon she was close to orgasm, her body so tense it was shaking.

  “That’s right,” he was muttering, his arms and body and voice surrounding her. “That’s so good. Let go. Just let go.”

  With a sobbing sound, she leaned forward to bite down on his shoulder. Her body was shuddering helplessly.

  “There you go.” He hiked up her leg and pumped his hand hard. “Let it go now. You’ve got it. Just let it go.”

  Maybe it was his words or maybe she simply couldn’t hold back anymore. All the tension in her body broke just then. She sobbed loudly, her mouth against his shoulder, and her inner muscles clamped down hard around his fingers.

  “That’s right,” he was murmuring, oddly gentle considering their position and circumstance. “That’s so good. I can feel how hard you’re coming. You’re so good. So good.”

  She collapsed against his chest when the spasms finally worked their way through her. She was pulsing with pleasure all over and deliciously relaxed.

  Lance slid his fingers out and brought them up to his mouth to suck them clean in a gesture that seemed automatic rather than intentionally sexual. Then he wrapped both arms around her body and let her lean against him.

  It felt good. Warm and strong and safe. She absently used her hand to wipe away the slobber she’d left on his shoulder.

  It had been more than two years since she’d had sex, but she couldn’t remember orgasms with a partner being so intense. The sex they’d just had couldn’t have lasted more than fifteen minutes, and it might have been the best in her life.

  She giggled against his shoulder.

  “You’re laughing?”

  His dry tone made her giggle even more. It was mostly just an overflow of feeling, but Lance obviously thought it meant something specific.

  Lance let out a long, thick sigh. “Nine months. That’s what happens when I go nine months without. Any guy would do the same, and if they say they wouldn’t, they’re lying.”

  She was laughing helplessly now since he obviously thought she was mocking his lack of stamina. His self-deprecating tone was too much. She tilted her head back so she could see his face and reached up to stroke his hair back from his forehead. “Some sex god you are.”

  It had to have been clear from her tone that she was teasing, and his put-upon expression was obviously exaggerated for her benefit. “You haven’t even begun to see what I can do. That was just the opening act. We haven’t finished yet.”

  “Oh, I think you at least have finished. A little too early too.”

  He made a growling sound. “The night isn’t over yet.”

  When she couldn’t stop laughing, he took a step back and straightened her up so she was no longer leaning against the table. His motion distracted her from
her hilarity, and she stared in confusion as he bent his knees slightly, wrapped an arm around her, and hefted her up over one of his shoulders in a caveman carry.

  She squealed in surprise as he started walking toward the hallway.

  “The night definitely isn’t over yet,” Lance said, keeping one arm up to hold her in position. “You don’t get to judge until I’ve shown you everything I’ve got.”

  It felt weird to be carried this way, and it was a little hard on the stomach, but she couldn’t help but laugh again at his words and his aggrieved tone.

  She was still laughing when he dumped her forward onto her bed, which was the first of the bedrooms they got to. He was wearing his socks and his underwear—still pushed down partway—but he stripped everything off before he got into bed.

  Savannah was already completely naked except for her socks, but it was a chilly night, so she was keeping them on.

  He climbed over her, leaning down to kiss her. This time it was slow, deep, intentional. He definitely knew what he was doing, and he was clearly going to show her all his skills. He kissed and caressed her all over until she was flushed and squirming. It wasn’t long before she was ready to go again, but none of her pleading had any impact on him.

  Lance was on a mission to show her what he could do, and he wasn’t going to be sidetracked by her impatience. If his slight smile was any indication, he was enjoying the challenge as much as she was.

  By the time his head had finally lowered to her groin, she was more aroused than she ever remembered being in her life and was shamelessly begging him for release. He yanked her legs apart, his smile broadening as he saw how wet and swollen she was.

  “Don’t gloat,” she panted, arching up as he used a finger to open her even more.

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “Your expression was gloating.”

  “Well, what do you expect? You doubted my expertise.”

  “I never said I doubted—”

  His eyes were hungrily running up and down from her face to her arousal. “I know a challenge when I’m faced with one.” He lifted her hips and slid a pillow beneath them to get her in an easier position, and then he lowered his face so he could tease her with his tongue. “And you’re about to be taught a lesson about what happens when you issue that kind of challenge to me.”