by Tessa Layne
He released her bra, brushing the fabric aside and grasped her taut peak between his fingers, giving a little pull. Hope bit her lip to keep from crying out at the exquisite sensation.
“Then what, Hope?” His voice melted over her, seeping into her bones.
“Then I brush my hair over your cock.”
He hissed out a breath. “Who’s the dirty one? Jesus, Hope.”
His reactions sent a thrill through her. Heady stuff, bringing him to the edge with just her words. But she wanted more. “I told you mine,” she panted, arching into him. “Now tell me yours.”
He lifted his head, eyes burning into her, a feral smile curving his mouth. “I fantasize about being completely naked with you. Heart, mind, and body. No barriers. Our souls entwining like our bodies. Sliding into your wet heat, feeling you clench around my cock as you come. Making a baby with you.”
His declaration hung between them, stealing her breath. The thought of making a baby with Ben was an unbelievable turnon. Her pussy clenched in anticipation.
“I’m still on the pill…”
He drew a finger down her cheek. “We don’t have to make a baby right now.” A note of steel entered his voice. “But I do want to make a baby with you, Hope. As soon as you’re ready.”
She threaded her fingers through Ben’s beautiful wavy hair and pulled him close, kissing him tenderly. A flood of liquid dampened her panties at the thought of making a baby with Ben, and she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue across his lower lip.
He made a noise halfway between a sigh and a moan and took over the kiss, his tongue plundering her mouth possessively, drowning her in a swirling sea of sensation. When he pulled away, they were both panting.
He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and keeping his gaze fixed on hers, began to work the buttons on his shirt. “Marry me now, Hope.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean? We can’t–”
“I don’t mean that kind of a wedding.” He shucked his shirt and tossed it to the foot of the bed. “We can do that later. Wherever, whenever, however you want.” He stood and pulled his belt free, slowly dropping his denims. The bulge in his boxer briefs stirred her, and she itched with the longing to cup him, caress him… taste him. She licked her lips hungrily, and her mouth turned to dust as he slipped off the form fitting briefs and stood before her, erect and proud, his cock full and heavy.
He extended his hand and she took it, coming to stand in front of him, his cock pressing against her belly. He pushed off her shirt and helped her discard her bra, running his hands the length of her arms before bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing each one.
Her pulse buzzed in her ears. God help her, she was nervous. She chastised herself as soon as the thought entered her head. How could she be nervous with Ben? Because this was far more than make-up sex. A wave of love for this man exploded in her chest, nearly buckling her knees.
“I love you, Ben.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
He thrust his hand into her hair and cupped the nape of her neck, tilting her head so that her mouth was just below his. He brushed her lips in the barest of kisses, and she leaned forward on her toes, unconsciously asking for more.
“I love you more,” he answered as softly, before sliding his other hand to her breast. He cupped her fullness, grazing her hardened nipples with featherlight touches until she ached for him to take her in his mouth and pull.
Too soon, he moved his hand to the dip at her waist, sliding his fingers inside the waistband of her leggings and in one swift motion, bared her completely. She stepped out of the pants and kicked them over with his. The cool air pebbled her skin and only heightened the anticipation of his hot, hard body covering hers and taking her to oblivion.
Reaching an arm behind her, he pulled her flush against his skin, a possessive light in his eyes. His cock pulsed between them, nestling just above her curls, and she longed to wrap her legs around him, but he clearly had other ideas.
“I promise to love you forever, Hope. No matter what. I don’t ever want to be separated from you again.” His voice, thick with emotion, washed over her, a salve to her broken places.
He bent his head, taking her mouth as possessively. He licked her and ate at her mouth until her knees wobbled and she mewled like a helpless kitten. Every swirl of his tongue set off firecrackers of sensation in her head and down through her most sensitive spots.
His breathing was ragged as he drew back. He was as affected as she was. He trailed kisses down her neck and the valley between her breasts before finally taking a bud and sucking. She clung to his shoulders and trembled as he sucked and nipped, then flicked, switching between one hard bead and the other.
When he raised his head, his hair stood on end from her hands raking his scalp, and his eyes were wild with passion. “I promise to worship your body, and to care for you when you’re sick.” He drew his tongue down to her navel as he sank to his knees, showering the curve of her belly with soft kisses and sucks. “And when you’re hurting, I promise to be there. To be your anchor.”
Hope couldn’t tell if the words or his mouth stirred her more. Whatever it was, the result was the same. She passed the point of no return. For the rest of her life she belonged to this man. “Ben–”
“Hush. Not done.” He nuzzled and teased the skin right above her curls, nipping at her hipbone, sliding a hand between her thighs. She adjusted her stance, giving him access to the deepest part of herself.
This is what it meant to be truly naked with another individual. Totally vulnerable and open. His breath tickled the juncture of thigh and torso, a hot contrast to the cold air surrounding them. He inhaled deeply, and gazed up at her through hooded eyes. “So sweet, so beautiful.”
She let out a keening sigh as he drew a finger through her slick folds, seeking and finding the bundle of nerves that was already aching for his touch. She thrust her hand into his hair, in part for balance, in part because she had to touch him, let him know the powerful effect he had on her body.
He turned his head to her thigh, tonguing the soft flesh and working his way closer to her center. “I promise to give you children, and to be a good father. To be your partner in every way.”
This slow perusal of her body, peppered with his heartfelt vows, set her trembling. There was something… sacred about this exchange. And far more intimate than exchanging scripted promises in front of a crowd.
He brought his thumbs to her pussy, parting her swollen folds, and dipped his head. Drawing his tongue along the same path his fingers had traveled, he found and lapped at her hard nub, at last drawing it into his mouth, and sucked gently. Crying out, she shattered as wave upon wave of release crashed over her. Her fingers went numb, her lips, her teeth, and still the waves kept coming. She bent over Ben, legs shaking, and he held her, kissing and nuzzling her until she could feel her limbs again.
He stood, gathering her in his powerful embrace, and kissed her, letting her taste the remnants of her passion. Leaning into him, she came back into her body and became aware of his hard muscles bunching under her palms. As they kissed, she explored. Every dip, every knot.
Breaking the kiss, she laced her fingers with his, giving him her heart without reservation. “I promise to love you forever, Ben. To be your partner and your strongest support.”
She bent her head and inhaled his masculine scent, letting it settle into her bones. He stilled as she traced her tongue along the outline of his ribcage, nipping and tasting his salt-tinged skin. Worshipping his body this way could never convey the depth of her love. But it was a start. She could show him with her mouth where words failed.
Goosebumps skittered across his midsection as she drew her fingers across his tightly held abs, circling lower and lower until she encountered the vee of hair that grew below his navel. He sucked in a sharp breath as she pressed along his pubic bone, fingers brushing against his engorged cock.
She kneeled
as he had done and gazed up at him. “I promise to be a good mother to our children, to share all of life’s joys and sorrows with you.”
His eyes glittered with barely contained lust. But also with something steadier. Hotter. More promising than another encounter of the flesh. His hand cupped the back of her head, fingers twining in her hair, and he groaned as she firmly grasped his root and squeezed, angling her mouth to take in the head of his cock.
“God, Hope.” He rasped through clenched teeth. “Your mouth,” He thrust into her and she opened, taking him as deep as she could, applying the gentle suction she knew drove him wild. She ran her fingers up the back of his thighs, palming his ass as he slowly moved into her. His legs clenched, and she whimpered as he pulled out and hauled her up against him, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss that shook her to her soul.
His mouth was hot and demanding, his tongue fucking her mouth like his cock had a moment before. “Promise, me,” he muttered as he pulled away. “No more secrets between us.” He tugged on her hair, exposing her neck and he slid his tongue down to the hollow where her pulse galloped out of control.
“No secrets,” she panted. “Never again.” She twisted her head, searching for his mouth. His cock pressed against her belly, slick from her ministrations, and she moved against it, trying to bring relief to her aching pussy.
“Promise me.” His voice brooked no argument.
She clasped his face between her hands, and focused on his deep hazel pools, glazed with arousal. “I promise, Ben. No secrets between us. Ever.”
His grip tightened on her as he lifted her, pressing her closer. His chest hair scraped at her, and she lifted her legs, grasping his hips as his hands slid down to cup her ass. “Now, Ben. I want you inside me,” she begged.
“Not like this, not for our first time. I want to feel every inch as I slide into you.”
He stepped to the bed and lay her back, his body covering hers, his eyes locked on hers as he settled himself between her thighs, his cock at her opening. She lifted her hips, the agony of waiting setting her clit throbbing wildly.
“You are everything to me, Hope.” He gave a shallow thrust, teasing her opening.
“Ben,” she pleaded. “I never stopped loving you. There was only ever you.”
He pulled out then thrust a little deeper. Feeling him like this, pressing into her, inch by excruciating inch, skin on skin, no physical or emotional barriers, was better than she could have ever imagined. She clenched around him as he thrust again, grinding her hips into his.
He laced his fingers with hers and pulled them over her head, propping himself on his elbows. “Look at me, Hope.”
As their gazes tangled, he thrust home, burying himself so deeply she gasped from the intensity. She didn’t know where she ended and Ben began. He settled into a slow, unyielding rhythm, that she matched stroke for stroke, building the heat and friction between them. She could feel her orgasm winding up low in her belly, the ache in her clit reaching a fever pitch.
“Look at me when you come,” he commanded, voice roughened with need. “Come for me, Hope.”
She squeezed his hands, holding on for dear life as her orgasm exploded out, setting every limb in her body shaking. He thrust harder, faster, helping her ride it out, then cried out as he joined her in beautiful oblivion.
CHAPTER 31
Ben collapsed onto her, brushing her sweat-slicked hair out of her eyes, and tracing her cheeks with his fingers. Wonder stole through him. A sense of completeness – that in joining with her he was somehow more than himself. Hope belonged to him. As deeply as he belonged to her.
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and drew back. “We’ve shared the vows of our hearts, wife. The rest is formality.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Does that mean I get to call you husband?”
“I prefer Mr. Sinclaire,” he teased, referring to the books she used to keep in the tree house.
A look of worry flashed across her face, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. “What if I don’t want to change my name?”
He rolled them to their sides, limbs still entwined. “I don’t care what you call yourself. I care that you’re my wife and you’re going to spend the rest of your life with me.” The smile she gave him warmed him to his toes.
“Can you say the wife part again?”
He gathered her close, and toyed with her hair. “Yes, wife. Shall we go tell the others?”
“They won’t mind?”
“Why would they?” If anything, they’d be thrilled.
“Well, Brodie and Jamey are getting married in less than a week. I don’t want to upstage them.”
“The wedding’s a formality for them too. Brodie would have been happy getting married in the backyard with a keg of beer the day he asked her to marry him.”
“But what about Jamey?”
“She’s the furthest thing from a bridezilla there is. I know you don’t know her that well, but you’ll see.” He placed a little kiss on her nose, hoping he’d reassured her. He wanted nothing more than to shout their union to the rooftops.
The cold settled over them as their bodies cooled, and Hope shivered and nestled her head into his shoulder. “Can’t we just stay here a bit longer? Savor this?”
He stroked the back of her head. “Sorry, sweets. It’s too cold without more sleeping bags.”
“We could share yours.” Her voice was muffled.
Reluctantly, he propped himself up, sliding a hand down her soft curves. “I need to go back for food. But I left a Coleman stove at the foot of the ladder.” He caressed her again, hoping to bribe her into moving. “Besides, if we grab another sleeping bag, we could camp out here for a few days until the power comes back on.”
She lifted her head, eyes bright. “Really? I’ve always wanted to camp in the tree house.”
He gently smacked her ass. “Then get going, woman. We have more loving ahead of us.”
That got Hope moving. They quickly dressed, and climbed down the ladder, touching the entire walk back to the Big House. When they arrived, Axel, Gunnar, and Brodie stood huddled on the porch. Something was wrong.
“What is it? Henry okay?”
Gunnar turned, eyes widening as he saw their clasped hands. “Baby’s fine. We hurried over because Buttercup was standing outside the pen without a rider, looking a little worse for wear.”
Beside him, Hope gasped. “Oh I’m so relieved. Is she okay?”
“Scraped and skittish as hell, but she’s not lame. What happened, sis? We were worried you were hurt.”
“She spooked during the ice storm and threw me.”
Axel narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. “What the hell were you doing with her out in the storm?”
Hope stiffened. “Helping our cousin because you two numbskulls decided to ignore the weather warnings.”
Gunnar waved his hand between them. “Relax you two. All’s well that ends well.”
Ben’s hackles rose, and he worked to stay calm. Hope looked close to tears, but it wouldn’t do to pick a fight with her brothers when they were planning to announce their engagement.
“But it’s not ending well for Buttercup.” Her voice was positively despondent. “The competition is in three days.”
Ben could tell she was on the verge of panic, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Gunnar shook his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, sis. Check her out for yourself, but I think it would be too much for her. Whatever happened, traumatized her.”
The stricken look on Hope’s face arrowed right into Ben’s heart. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know it’s not what you planned, but at least she came home.”
Hope sighed heavily. “I know.” She gave him a sad smile. “It was only my future.”
“Our future,” he corrected.
Gunnar perked up. “Our future? You two finally kiss and make up?”
Ben slid Hope a sideways glance, questioning her with his eyes.
Before everything had gone sideways, he’d meant to speak to her family. Would they take kindly to an announcement from them? She gave him the barest of shakes.
So the secret was theirs for a bit longer.
Ben turned his attention back to Brodie, who was unusually subdued. Especially for someone getting married in a few days. So something was wrong. “What’s going on?” Had Jamey gotten cold feet? His stomach lurched at the thought.
Axel reached into the mini-fridge and pulled out two beers. “Jamey’s inside with the crisis bottle if you prefer something stronger.”
Come to think of it, they all looked concerned. But if it wasn’t baby Henry or Buttercup, what was it?
“C’mon Axe, you all look shell-shocked.” Hope took one of the beers. “Someone get cold feet?”
“Hell no,” Brodie growled, taking a pull from his bottle. “Worse. Pastor Ericksen called. Tree crashed through the roof of the church.”
“Shit.” Ben and Hope exclaimed at the same time.
“Problem is, the man didn’t think. He should have asked for me and let me break the news to Jamey.” He took another sip of his beer and laughed. “Instead, he blurted it out and got the full Irish treatment from my bride-to-be.”
That drew a round of laughs from everyone on the porch. They all knew and loved Jamey. And they’d all experienced the force of her temper at one point or another.
“Why not have it here?” Ben asked.
“Because it’s winter, can’t fit everyone inside.”
“What about the barn?”
“We were just discussing that,” Gunnar answered. “We have the horses already.”
Brodie frowned. And Ben knew exactly where he was going. “But we don’t have the set-up with our stalls.”
And there was no way, unless they wanted to take down the stalls, that they could make a space big enough for a wedding. And there simply wasn’t time for that.
“What about the indoor arena?” Hope asked. “Couldn’t we lay down some flooring and have people sit in the ring?”