by Ashwood, Eva
I barely even saw him move. He was a big man, but fast. One moment I saw the flash in his eyes, and the next he had my back pressed to the fridge and his lips on mine. A growl vibrated in his chest and my lips parted without thought as Walker pinned me against the fridge and stole my breath away in seconds.
This kiss was like coming home.
Except the home had learned a few new tricks in the last seven years.
Walker had always been able to light me on fire with a single touch, but everything about him was stronger, more powerful, more dominating now. His tongue stroked against mine in a way that made my knees weak, and I wrapped my arms around him as I sagged against the metal door of the fridge.
“God, Macks,” he growled into my mouth, pressing his large body into mine. I could feel his hardening cock against my stomach, and my clit throbbed with an answering need.
He kissed me like a starving man, angling his head to take it even deeper as his hands roamed the curves of my body. He was probably smearing the still-wet paint droplets that had spattered my tank top and shorts, but his worries about keeping things clean seemed to have evaporated.
When his fingertips slipped under the edge of my tank, sliding up the expanse of my stomach, I arched into his touch, needing more.
Breathing hard, he tore his mouth away from mine just long enough to peel the tank top up and over my head. Then he stopped, frozen. His chest rose and fell in deep breaths as he stared at me. I was still wearing a black bra and my cut-off shorts, but under Walker’s intense gaze, I felt like I was bared already. Like he could see through my skin straight down to my soul, where truths even I wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet lurked in my heart.
I didn’t want him to see. Didn’t want him to know.
So I kissed him again, pressing away from the fridge and wrapping my arms around his neck, hooking my leg around his ass. He staggered backward slightly under my assault, probably surprised I’d suddenly become the aggressor, but he responded with the same hunger I felt. His hands slid over my ass, hooking my thighs and lifting me against him.
“Walker…” I breathed into his mouth, wrapping both my legs around his waist. My fingers threaded through his hair as I tipped my head back, and his lips worshipped the skin of my neck. I shivered, every nerve ending in my body lighting up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
Ever since I’d moved in with him, I’d been trying to ignore how damn good my new husband looked in his perfectly tailored suits, but now, all I wanted was to see that damn suit crumpled up on the floor. There were too many layers of clothes between us.
Walker must’ve thought so too because, without taking his lips away from my skin, he turned and carried me toward the large marble-topped island in the middle of the kitchen. He perched my ass on it, and the second I was settled, we both started tearing at each other’s clothes, like it was a race to see who could get the other person naked first.
I lost. Big time.
I’d managed to tug Walker’s tie off and was about to rip his shirt open down the middle, buttons be damned, when he popped the button on my shorts, slid the zipper down, and slipped his hand inside.
He cupped my wet, aching sex, and all my brain cells temporarily shorted out. When he slid a large finger inside me, a needy cry fell from my lips. I still wanted his damn shirt off—all his clothes off—but I couldn’t focus on a damn thing except the feel of him where I needed him most.
It’d been an embarrassingly long time since I’d had sex, and this wasn’t just any man. It was Walker Prince. I was on the verge of coming already, and my face flushed with a mixture of desire and awkwardness as I wriggled my ass on the counter, desperate for more of his touch.
A cocky, hungry grin spread across his face, and he went for the gold in our clothes removal contest, using one hand to work my shorts and panties down my hips and off my legs while his other continued to work my pussy. He added a finger, sliding in and out of me in slow strokes while his thumb circled my clit, bringing me right up to the edge without letting me go over.
“Walker Prince,” I panted, nearly cross-eyed with need. “Goddamn you.”
He chuckled darkly, then pressed me back, lowering me to rest on my elbows with my ass still perched at the edge of the counter. His eyes were filled with a million promises I hoped like hell he’d keep as he raked his gaze over my body again. I could see the outline of his rock hard cock in his suit pants, and my mouth practically watered.
“You always were a sweet talker, Mackenzie Henson,” he murmured teasingly, before lowering his head to flick a tongue over my nipple.
I gasped, arching toward him. If I hadn’t been using my arms to hold myself up, I would’ve grabbed his head and clung to it like a lifeline. Instead, I watched his cobalt blue gaze flash up to mine as he switched to my other breast, flicking and teasing the nipple with the tip of his tongue.
Jesus. He really might be trying to kill me. Was this my punishment for getting paint on the floor?
If it was, I hoped he was prepared for me to dump entire buckets of paint on his fancy furniture. Anything to get him pissed off again.
A sheen of sweat broke out on my body as he tortured me with his lips, teeth, and hands. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he drew back, his eyes hooded and slightly glazed. Maybe I wasn’t the only one being tortured here.
“Fuck, Macks. I thought I remembered everything. You were always so sweet. So fucking perfect. But now? Jesus, I have to taste you.”
With no more warning than that, he dipped his head between my thighs, throwing my legs over his shoulders as his tongue slid through my folds.
“Oh God!” My loud cry echoed around the big kitchen as Walker’s tongue found my clit. He flicked, circled, and lapped at it until I was nothing more than a writhing pile of need.
“Come for me, Macks,” he muttered against my skin, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard it. “I need you to come for me now.”
I had never in my life come on command, but I’d never had a guy eat me out in a kitchen like I was a gourmet meal either.
Like a tether snapping, my release barreled through me. My legs clamped around Walker’s head as my whole body tensed, waves of pleasure pulling me under. I closed my eyes as white stars danced in my vision, and when I finally came down from the high, it felt like someone had replaced my bones with Jell-o.
“Holy…” I shook my head back and forth on the hard marble countertop. “That was…”
Walker smiled as he straightened, and there was something in this smile that was different. Something besides just the lustful confidence and cocky pride. Warmth. Tenderness, maybe? Like making me feel good was the best thing he’d ever done.
The hunger in his gaze returned when I finally mustered up the strength to sit back up, reaching for his shirt and tearing it open.
Hey, better late than never, right?
He chuckled as buttons skittered across the pristine floor of the kitchen, and I tugged my lip through my teeth as I took in the stunning sight of his bare chest. I’d seen it several times since our wedding day—more than I’d wanted to, actually, considering the sight made reason and self-control hard to maintain—but this was different. This wasn’t an accidental glance.
Tonight, I could touch as well as look.
So I did, pulling him closer so I could run my hands over the broad planes of his pecs, across the ridges of his abs, and down the little trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
His muscles tensed and his breath hitched as I reached for his belt buckle, and he grabbed out his wallet, pulling out a foil wrapped condom. When I finally slid his pants and boxer briefs down, he kicked them off along with his shoes.
Holy shit.
Walker Prince should never be allowed to wear clothes.
His muscles were chiseled and defined, his skin lightly tanned, and his broad shoulders tapered to a lean, narrow waist with that sexy as fuck V at his hips.
I could�
�ve continued my slow perusal of his body for hours, but Walker palmed the back of my head and kissed me again, and just like last time, I lost control of my brain. He stepped closer as he devoured me with his lips, and I hooked my legs around his waist, trying to guide him to right where I wanted him.
His cock teased my entrance, sliding through my slickness, and we both groaned.
“Condom,” he grunted, and I nodded desperately.
He reached over to grab it from the counter where he’d set it next to his wallet, tearing it open with his teeth. He watched me as he slowly rolled it over his thick length, as if giving me one last chance to come to my senses, one last chance to stop this before we both did something we couldn’t take back.
But the thing was? I didn’t want to stop this.
I might regret it in the morning, and there was a tiny part of my brain that knew, even in the heat of this moment, that I was just asking to get hurt again.
But I didn’t care.
Walker had been my one and only love, the memory from my past all other men tried—and failed—to live up to. My body remembered his touch, and like it had a mind of its own, it was begging me to let this happen.
I needed it.
Maybe we both did.
So instead of answering with words, I reached up and pulled his face down to mine, kissing him like it might be the last thing I ever did. His tongue swept my mouth at the same time his hips surged forward, and he bottomed out inside me.
His arms tightened around me, and I swore I could feel his whole body shaking as we stayed frozen like that for a moment. Then he began to thrust. I held onto him as he set a hard pace, like he needed this too much to savor it. I understood the feeling. There would be time for savoring later, but right now, I needed him. I needed him fast and hard and deep.
Our sounds filled the kitchen, bouncing off the high ceiling and walls. Harsh breaths and needy moans, the rhythmic slapping as he pounded into me, muffled curses from both of us. My whole body felt like it was on fire, and a sheen of sweat covered his perfect chest as he fucked me.
“God, Walker!” I squeezed my inner walls around him, and he grunted, picking up the pace even more.
He slipped one hand between us, his thumb finding my clit again, and this time I didn’t need him to tell me to come. I was right there.
My body clenched around him, and I buried my face in his neck as bursts of pleasure ricocheted through me.
“So good, Macks. So… fucking… good.” With one last groan, he buried himself deep, grinding his hips against mine as he came hard.
We collapsed onto the kitchen island, our damp skin pressed together, his cock still inside me. I kept my legs wrapped around him as we both panted unevenly, trying to get our breath back. I knew he’d have to deal with the condom in a second, but I wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
That had been…
Incredible.
Perfect.
Everything I’d needed for the past seven years but never thought I’d have again.
My heart squeezed painfully at the thought, and I reminded myself that I didn’t really have it. I didn’t have him.
There was an expiration date on this whole thing—then the slipper would come off, the carriage would turn back into a pumpkin, and I would go back to my regular life without Walker.
Pushing those thoughts away, I let my post-sex haze of endorphins convince me that was a Future Mackenzie problem. Today Mackenzie was dancing on clouds made of rainbows.
Running my fingers through Walker’s hair, I looked around the kitchen as he pressed lazy kisses to my chest and neck.
“Um, don’t look now, Mr. Prince. But I think we made a mess.”
His warm chuckle vibrated against my skin.
10
Walker
I woke to the aroma of berry-scented hair and a very, very toasty Mackenzie pressed tightly to my side. After our hot as hell encounter in the kitchen, I had carried her upstairs and we’d done it all over again. I’d expected some of the edge to be taken off, some of that insane need for her to be quenched, but if anything, our second time was even more intense than the first.
She did something to me; something I couldn’t quite describe. She lit me up in a way no one in my life ever had before. It wasn’t just her gorgeous face or body, which had only become more beautiful since I’d known her in high school. I knew plenty of attractive women, but in my eyes, none of them could hold a candle to Macks. The person she was inside shone out through her physical appearance, and that was what made her so stunning.
I was always an earlier riser than most people in my life, even before I became ‘uptight,’ as Mackenzie had called it. Whatever she might say about my rigid schedule, it gave me the chance to appreciate her effortless, natural beauty while she slept.
Her hair splayed messily over the pillow and her shoulders, billowing slightly with every soft puff of sleepy breath. She looked peaceful, with a healthy flush to her skin. I could count the freckles smattered lightly across the bridge of her nose. I couldn’t help but grin as a little snore escaped her lips.
I laughed, jarring her a little. She let out a soft sound of protest; it was the cutest damn noise I’d ever heard in my life.
“Mmm… Walker…?” She didn’t even open her eyes. Bless her.
“Sleep,” I murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She curled into my side, snoring herself back to sleep.
God… I wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened between us. But I didn’t want to let her go.
* * *
“You know what I love about you, Macks?”
“What’s that, Walker?”
“Everything.”
We stood together in my mother’s library after a ‘family dinner’ my father had insisted on. Mackenzie and I had been dating for the last few months and both my parents were painfully interested in her. My mother genuinely wanted to get to know her, and my father wanted to size her up and make sure she was worthy of our family.
It was a dumb reason for him to invite someone over to the house, but I accepted it as another ‘perk’ of being Arthur Vance Prince’s son.
After the longest dinner in the history of dinners, Macks and I were finally alone. My father and mother had retreated to other parts of the house—mostly at my mother’s prompting. My dad could’ve happily grilled Macks for another hour.
I couldn’t help but wrap around her from behind. She smelled like strawberries and honey; I didn’t think I had ever met a girl who smelled so good I wanted to eat her.
She laughed as I pressed against her, pulling her tighter to my chest. “Everything? You’re just saying that because I survived dinner with your family.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
She didn’t answer me. I turned her around, settling my hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes.
“I don’t think you understand.” My knuckles traced down the side of her face, and I loved the way her eyelashes fluttered in response to my touch. “I don’t know how to say it, Macks. There’s never been another girl for me. No one in that dumbass school gets me like you do… and I mean that. I don’t want you thinking it’s not the literal definition of the truth when I tell you that I—”
My words were caught off with the press of her lips against mine, and I sank into the kiss, sliding my hands down to her low back. It felt incredible. So intense. Raw and real. There wasn’t a girl in the world like Mackenzie. There would probably never, ever, be another girl like Mackenzie.
* * *
I managed to fall back asleep with Macks tucked safely into the crook of my arms. An hour, maybe more. The satisfaction of our coupling and our morning together remained—as did a soreness in a few key muscles that I welcomed wholeheartedly. It was proof of the night before. I reveled in it.
Unlike earlier, it was Mackenzie who stirred first. She shifted against my body, letting out a yawn. I ran my fingers through her hair as I willed m
yself back to consciousness.
“Hm… you’re still in bed,” she observed tiredly. “Don’t you have work?”
“I’ve decided to take a day off.”
She said nothing for a moment. After a few seconds, she chuckled. “What?”
“You heard me, Macks.”
“Wow. Did I wear you out last night?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Hey, I gave as good as I got,” she teased, wriggling her ass against my hard cock.
I finally rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. Her eyes were turned up to me, still glazed over a little, whether from sleep or from the haze of last night, I wasn’t sure. Maybe a sweet combination of the two.
Smiling, I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Did you sleep well?”
“Are you kidding? I slept great.”
Despite the peacefulness in her face, the ease in her body, there was something under the surface that I couldn’t quite place. But I felt it like a chasm opening up between the two of us when Mackenzie sat up, pulling out of my hold. Keeping the sheet pinned to her chest with one hand, she ran the other through her hair and let out a sigh.
I recognized the tone of that sigh, the heaviness in it. There was something on her mind.
“Hey,” I urged, resting a hand on her sheet-entangled knee. “Talk to me.”
“We, uh… really did that last night, huh?” She cocked her head and pushed a piece of dark hair behind her ear, questions swimming in the green of her eyes. I licked my lips, choosing my words carefully.
“You mean slept together? Yeah… yeah, we really did.”
“And… did you like it? Were you okay with it?”
“Are you kidding me? Yes, to both. Why wouldn’t I be—what’s wrong, Mackenzie?”
A worried pit dropped in my stomach. What if she regretted what’d happened? Had she not wanted it as much as I thought she had last night? We’d gotten caught up in each other… hadn’t really taken the time to think it all the way through. Fuck. Maybe—