His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit)

by Terri Austin

  She laughed, then yelped when he nipped her bum. “I’ll wear it more often.”

  “See that you do, love.” He gave her ass a sharp tap. “Now, bend over. Palms on the bed.”

  Brynn tipped over and spied him from the narrow opening between her legs. She was a stunner. Stepping closer to the bed, he splayed his hands across her ass. He leaned forward, gave her a long, slow lick. Her breath audibly hitched, and he smiled.

  With Brynn, Iain felt vital, alive—like he’d been living in some kind of bleak, gray world for years and now the clouds had lifted. He knew that sounded idiotic, even as it popped into his mind. He’d never admit it out loud, but Brynn made him look up from his life and realize that everything around him was made of colors and textures.

  God, he loved this woman.

  He slid his hand down her outer thigh. She rewarded him with a moan. She was so trusting, his Brynn. She knew he’d never hurt her, would only bring her pleasure. It was humbling, that trust, and he’d violated it before they’d even met. Iain closed his eyes and pushed the thought away. He wanted to be in this moment, right now, rubbing Brynn’s tight, naked ass.

  With one finger, he traced the bumps of her lower spine, over the curves of her bum, all the way down to her lovely slim legs. Then he reversed himself and swatted her pussy lightly. She hissed, letting him know how much she liked it.

  “Spread your knees farther apart, Brynnie.”

  She did, opening herself up to him. What a sight. Brynn, bare to him. Willing to take whatever he gave her. Iain wanted to bring her nothing but satisfaction.

  He placed his hands on either side of her ass and parted her. Her inner lips glistened. Wet. Swollen. Hungry. But he wasn’t ready to touch her there, not yet.

  He concentrated on her pussy, spanking just hard enough to sting. “You love that.” It wasn’t a question. It never was. Iain simply stated facts. He knew what she liked, how she liked it. By now, he was as familiar with her body as he was his own.

  “Yes.” She sounded breathless. “Harder? Please?”

  Iain tapped her ass again, firmer this time, until his hand stung. Then he slapped her pussy once more. The sounds of his palm against her flesh made his cock ache. He alternated, never staying in one place for long and switched up light, soft raps with sharper smacks. Brynn’s ass was now pink in some places, redder in others, and she was wetter than before.

  He reached around and cupped her breasts. Brynn’s breath quickened as he played with her nipples. Those gorgeous, plump nipples.

  “Iain.” She pressed her bottom against his chest. “Please make me come.”

  “Oh, I plan to, love. Say the words. Let me hear them.”

  “Fuck me, Iain.” She groaned his name, pleading.

  How he loved seeing her like this—unashamed, bold, ready to take him. His bashful girl liked getting spanked and was using dirty words to tell him what she wanted. “You want my cock. All of it. Hard and fast.” Iain slid his hands to her stomach. She was a little ticklish, so he lightly trailed his fingers over her ribs, causing her to squirm a bit. Then he returned once again to her sweet bottom, changing up the pressure with each tap, careful not to be too rough. Her toned muscles clenched and her moans grew louder. “I’ll give it to you, then. When I’m ready.” He finally stopped and let her rest for a moment. “You’re a wild one when you want to be.”

  She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “You make me that way.”

  “You were never meant to sit on the sidelines, Brynnie. You’re too special for that.”

  Brynn hung her head downward, not speaking for several seconds. “Please, Iain?” Her vocal cords sounded shredded.

  She was on the edge. He’d barely need to touch her before she fell apart. Iain glided his hand up her thigh before sliding two fingers into her sweet, plump cunt. Brynn was so ready for him—hot and tight and wet. He worked those fingers in and out of her pussy. When he felt she was ready, Iain slipped in a third finger.

  She hunched her back. “God, that feels good.”

  With his other hand, Iain caressed the globe of her ass. Her skin was hot to the touch. Lightly, he slid that hand around her hip, until it rested on top of her mound. He worked his hands in tandem, his fingers pumping while his other hand pressed downward, applying pressure. In seconds, Brynn came, flexing her shoulders and rolling her hips.

  “Iain.”

  “I’m right here, darling.” He kept at it until her orgasm burst through her. He felt her spasms all the way up to his wrist. It was a strong one. He so enjoyed playing with her, seeing what made her come hard and what made her orgasm less intense.

  When Brynn’s body stopped moving, her pussy still contracted, yet Iain didn’t stop fingering her. He wanted her to come again. He was the only man who could do this for her.

  He leaned forward and bit her ass. The moment he did, another round of shudders wracked her body, causing goose bumps to break out over her skin. He didn’t let up, not until her inner walls stopped clasping at his fingers like a fist.

  When she was finally still, inside and out, he removed his hands from her body. Brynn fell to her knees, recuperating, sucking in lungfuls of air as she tried to catch her breath.

  “It gets better every time. How is that possible?” She rolled to her side, knees bent.

  Iain picked her up, kissed her temple, then dropped her so that she lay horizontally. She let out a squeal of surprise and stared up at him.

  “It’s going to keep getting better.” He opened the bedside table, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. Then he climbed on top of her, settling between her legs and propping himself on his forearms. He stared down at her, unable to look away from that gorgeous face. The golden skin. Those big, blue eyes. His cock prodded her hip. He was so bloody hard, he hurt, but he made no move to do anything other than hold her. He wanted her badly—not just right now. Not for tonight. For always.

  The thought shocked him. Iain had never given a toss about forever or commitment. But Brynn had him rethinking everything.

  “Iain?” She blinked at him, her brow furrowed. Reaching up, she cupped his jaw. “You’re looking at me funny.”

  “Am I?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Yeah. Are you okay?”

  Iain was better than okay. He was in love. Madly, deeply, unabashedly in love. “We’re getting married.” Again, not a question. The words came tumbling out of his mouth before they were even a fully formed thought, but it felt right. Permanent. Lasting.

  Brynn’s mouth popped open as she pushed at his chest. He didn’t budge. “What…what are you talking about?” Her words were breathy, but she hadn’t said no, so Iain took that as a victory. “We barely know each other.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” He leaned down and brushed her nose with his own before kissing her. A whisper-soft kiss that barely touched her lips. “I’m marrying you, Brynn Campbell. End of. And I’m going to devote my life to making you happy.”

  Her eyes shimmered with emotion. Perhaps there was a little disbelief mixed in as well. “Why?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I don’t want to make your life misery, do I?”

  She slapped his shoulder. “Not that part. Marriage.”

  “Because I love you, of course.” She opened her mouth to speak, but Iain beat her to the punch. “You may not love me back. Not yet. I know that. But you will.” He lowered his head and kissed her harder this time and lowered himself slightly, enjoying the feel of her soft body. “I swear to you,” he said against her lips, “I’ll make you proud. I’ll strive to be worthy of you every day.”

  A sob broke from her, and he captured it, slanting his mouth over hers once more. He gave her a long, hot kiss. Deep. Slow—every bit as intimate and intense as when they made love. He tried to show her how he felt in that kiss. Gave all of himself, held nothing back.

  Brynn must have felt it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, her fervor matching his ow
n.

  When Iain pulled away and opened his eyes, Brynn stared up at him, dazed. Then a grin crept over her generous mouth. “I love you too, Iain Chapman. I will absolutely marry you.”

  He hadn’t realized his muscles were tightly coiled until that moment. He let out his breath in a rush of air. “You love me.”

  She nodded shyly, her gaze fastened on his chin.

  His tongue darted out, licking a hot trail across her neck, circling her pulse. He felt it increase its pace. Brynn was his—to love, to protect, and all the rest of it. She was his.

  Something primitive seized hold of him. He bit down and nipped her skin, claiming her. Iain prided himself on his rigid control, but right then, he could barely think. Could only feel. Possessive. Uncivilized.

  Iain kissed her again. It was bruising, filled with every emotion coursing through him. There was nothing practiced or prim about it. Carnal. Ruthless.

  When Iain entered Brynn, he did it with one hard thrust. Her body was wet and willing. As he pounded into her, he sucked her bottom lip and bit down, probably too hard, but Brynn moaned into his mouth. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d tried.

  Hot passion rose within him. There was nothing gentle in the way he fucked Brynn.

  Her hips met his, and she looped her calves around his waist. All the while, Iain continued to kiss her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth the way he plunged his cock inside her pussy—unyielding and relentless.

  Iain pulled his mouth from hers, shoved his hand into Brynn’s hair, gripping it at the scalp. Bucking his hips, Iain slammed into her as he stared into her glazed eyes. This was a claiming in every way. Mine. Mine. Mine. The word ran through his mind over and over again.

  He didn’t know how long he fucked her. She raked her nails down his back and tightened her muscles around his cock. The feeling started at the base of his spine. When he clenched his ass, it moved to his balls. He was so close. So goddamned close.

  Iain’s groan was primal as he came. He squeezed his eyes shut and pounded at her. He lost all sense of himself, where he was. He only knew Brynn—her scent, the feel of her skin, her little moans. On and on, it shot through him as he continued to thrust into her. If he hadn’t known better, Iain thought he might have blacked out there for a minute.

  When he opened his eyes, he’d stopped moving. He lay on top of her, panting. Stunned.

  Ashamed.

  He’d sought his own pleasure without giving a thought to Brynn’s. After a few minutes, when he could think clearly again, he rolled off her. Grabbing a tissue from her bedside table, he removed the condom. “Don’t know what happened just then. You all right, love?”

  When he glanced back at her, she wore a tired smile. “Iain. That was unbelievable. Wow.” She breathed a little sigh. “That was great. Like, I-can-hardly-remember-what-day-it-is great.”

  He threw the tissue away and lay on his back. Brynn scooted closer and flung her arm around his chest.

  Despite her reassurance, Iain was embarrassed. He’d just exposed a part of himself he usually kept hidden—that harsh, baser side. By having his armor locked in place, Iain’d always kept a rein on that untamed part of himself. Yet he’d abandoned it with Brynn. Sweet, delicate Brynn.

  Iain prided himself on his control. For a long time, that sense of pride had literally been all he had. No money, no prospects, no education. Only pride. But with Brynn, his rigid self-discipline didn’t just slip, he’d cast it aside—willingly. Now he felt weak, like his old man—savage and unpredictable. Iain had re-created himself in a way that would’ve made Davy proud. The complete opposite of his drunken sod of a father. Or so he’d assumed. Perhaps he and the old man had more in common than he’d thought.

  His glance grazed over her, took in the swollen bottom lip. He’d bit down too hard. She’d liked it, but what if he’d gotten too rough? What if he had accidentally hurt her? Iain would never be able to forgive himself. He couldn’t allow himself to slip up like that again. She was his to protect.

  “You okay?” Brynn leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on his Adam’s apple. Her hair was a mess. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. A hint of worry slid behind her eyes. “Are you regretting your proposal? Because we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

  He cut that line of thinking off at the pass. “It wasn’t a proposal, love. It was a fact. We’re getting married. Let’s do it tomorrow.” He didn’t want to give her too much time to think. She might just run away again.

  Brynn sat up, gliding her hand over his stomach. “That’s crazy. I can’t plan a wedding in one day.”

  “This is Vegas, pet. Of course you can. And do you really want to go through months of planning and preparation? With Allie and Monica hounding you about every detail?” Find your opponent’s weakness…

  She shuddered. “God, no. That would be awful.”

  “If you decide you want something more formal down the line, well and good, but let’s do this our way. Privately. Just you and me.” Iain was surprising the bloody hell out of himself tonight. That’s exactly what he wanted—just the two of them reciting vows, exchanging rings. “It’s the perfect time. We could take three days for ourselves. Cass agreed to let Trevor’s financial people come in and help her. If I know accountants, they’ll want to go through everything with a fine-tooth comb. Until then, you don’t even have a computer to work with.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard.

  “When was the last time you took three days off?” Her nails made lazy circles across his thigh.

  Iain narrowed his eyes and remained quiet for a full minute. “I’m thinking.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But if we do this, I want to go full-on Vegas.”

  “What does that entail?” He grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. He glanced down at her naked finger. After tomorrow, she’d wear his ring. Which reminded him—he needed to get a bloody ring. “Should we have Elvis marry us? Or use a chapel drive-through?”

  Brynn rolled her eyes. “Think outside the box. Everyone uses Elvis. We’re better than that. Since this was your idea, I expect you to come up with something spectacular.”

  Iain let out a laugh. “Are you serious?” He looked at her eager expression.

  A mischievous smile played on her lips and she nodded eagerly. “Yep. Vegas at its tackiest. Just you and me.”

  Iain had never been able to resist a challenge. He grabbed the back of her neck and drew her forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Darling, I’m going to give you the tackiest fucking wedding this town has ever seen.”

  She palmed his jaw and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Iain.”

  Chapter 18

  Brynn’s head was spinning. Who knew Iain had a romantic streak? When he’d said he was going to marry her, Brynn could see that he was as taken aback by the words as she was. But then he’d said those sweet things about making her happy and wanting to be worthy of her. She could hear the honesty in his voice, could see it in his light brown eyes. He’d come into her life like a whirlwind, leaving her gasping for breath. She’d tried to guard her heart at first, but he’d owned it from the start.

  A warmth spread over her, starting in the center of her chest and working through the rest of her body. Iain Chapman, the most complicated, formidable man she’d ever met, loved her.

  “Oh my God. We’re getting married.” She grinned up at him.

  He held her gaze and smiled back. “I know.”

  When a buzzer sounded, Brynn didn’t know what it was. Then she remembered. “Dinner’s ready.”

  With lazy movements, Iain leaned down and reached for his boxers. “Why don’t you get a shower? Surely I’m capable of taking food out of the oven.” Then he pulled on his shorts and turned to look at her. “It is called an oven, correct?”

  “Cute. There’s a salad in the fridge.” She hopped out of bed and gathered her discarded clothes on the way to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a few.”

  She shut the door a
nd stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. “You’re marrying the man of your dreams tomorrow, jellyfish. How did you manage that?” Happiness, like champagne bubbles, fizzed through her.

  She hopped in the shower and washed quickly, thinking about Iain’s proposal. And the way he made love to her. He’d been in a frenzy. She’d never seen him like that, and while it shocked her, it excited her, too. Even during sex, Iain had always remained in charge, never lowering his defenses. But tonight, there’d been something wild in his eyes. He’d let himself go completely—because he loved her. He seemed a little shell-shocked by it. Well, now he knew how she felt every time he got through with her—dazed, shaken, and extremely satisfied.

  She toweled herself off, secured her messy hair back in its bun, and threw on a strapless baby-doll dress. Then she raced to the kitchen.

  Iain had uncovered the casserole dish and plated the salad. “Smells delicious.”

  He stood at the sink, arms crossed, hair ruffled. He’d dressed but hadn’t bothered to button his shirt. Brynn’s gaze danced over him. With the five o’clock shadow covering his jaw, he looked casually sexy—all the way down to his bare feet.

  “Keep looking at me like that, pet, and we’ll wind up back in bed. And while I wouldn’t mind, I still have a wedding to plan, don’t forget.”

  She grinned at that and distracted herself by opening a bottle of wine. “Okay, dinner. My mother used to make these awesome sausage rolls around the holidays. It’s an old family recipe. I thought you might like it.”

  She’d already set the table, using her favorite vintage linen—a flea market find with hand-embroidered pink flowers along the hem. When she glanced up, Iain was staring at her with a strange look in his eyes.