Wicked Ever After

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Wicked Ever After Page 12

by Shayla Black


  Right or wrong, sin or not, Pierce was exactly where she wanted him.

  Brea clutched his steely shoulders under his black formfitting shirt and let her fingers roam his strong, broad back. Then she wriggled and swayed to entice him closer as she lost herself in his dizzying kiss.

  Everything about him made her feel female—sensual, adored, vulnerable. Every time he came near her, her skin awakened and her heart raced. She ached. Even now, she was acutely aware of his shirt sliding slickly over her sensitive nipples. The rough cotton canvas of his khakis abraded the insides of her thighs. She wrapped her leg around his calf and slid her toes against the thick leather of his combat boots as she lifted her hips in entreaty.

  “Fuck,” he growled as he ground his thick erection right where she needed him most. “Every time I get my hands on you, all my good intentions go out the window.”

  She knew exactly what he meant. Until he’d barged into the beauty shop, she’d meant to put him out of her life and walk the straight-and-narrow for her baby’s sake. That meant marrying Cutter. That meant giving up on love. But every time she found herself near Pierce Walker, she got weak and all her good intentions ended up paving her road to hell.

  He toed off his boots, fisted his shirt at his nape and tore it free, then dropped his hands to his fly. As he unbuttoned his pants, his knuckles brushed the aching bud between her legs. She let out a breathy, pleading groan.

  He focused his black eyes on her, then raked merciless fingers through her folds. “Oh, fuck. You’re wet and swollen.”

  Approval roughened his voice. Pleasure jolted her.

  But when he settled his thumb over her throbbing button and rubbed, bliss became wrenching torment. Her breathing turned choppy. She bit her lip to hold in a cry. “You do that to me.”

  “I’m not even a little bit sorry. You arouse the hell out of me, too, baby. When I look at you, every shred of IQ I have rushes down to my cock. I don’t care that you make me stupid. I’ll do anything to fuck you.”

  That shouldn’t warm her or make her feel so wanted. But it did. She loved his single-minded focus on her pleasure.

  No, he hadn’t talked about tomorrow or being a part of his baby’s life or anything remotely practical. But when he slid a pair of his big fingers inside her and rubbed at a sensitive spot, her eyes widened, her breath hitched, and she let go of everything except her undeniable attachment to this man who literally held her in the palm of his hand.

  “Pierce. Oh! That feels so…”

  “Good?” he murmured against her ear. “Yeah, that’s it. Grind on my fingers. I love to make you hot and watch all your good-girl decorum give way to begging, leg-spreading need.”

  He had the filthiest mouth—and she’d never imagined she would like that in a man. But on Pierce, she loved it.

  When she was in his arms, she barely recognized herself. He seemed to know exactly where, when, and how to touch her. He understood her body far better than she did. He’d introduced her to a part of herself she hadn’t known existed. She couldn’t unknow it now. She didn’t want to.

  “How do you do this to me?” Brea clung as her need gathered, thickened, sharpened.

  “Do what? Ramp you up? Make you pant? Remind you that you’re mine?”

  “Yes,” she said into his skin as she opened her lips over the hard cap of his shoulder.

  His salty musk pervaded her nose and revved her heart as his maleness glazed her tongue. Her need kindled hotter. She laved him again before nipping his hard flesh with her teeth.

  He tossed his head back with a hiss and shoved his digits even deeper. “Oh, yeah… Sink your teeth into me, pretty girl. Fuck. Take what’s yours. Show me you’re as hungry as this little pussy tightening on my fingers.”

  His words speared her with savage need. She bit down again, this time sinking her teeth into the muscle between his shoulder and neck. Then she sucked frantically.

  Pierce went taut with a growl. “If you keep it up, I’m going to shove every inch of my cock deep and fuck you now.”

  “Please.” Her body jolted and pinged. Her blood raced. Her restless, hollow desperation for the climax he’d dragged her to the edge of made her claw at him in silent demand.

  Brea couldn’t remember ever wanting him more. She bit at the strong tendons in his neck again, wishing she could imprint his taste on her tongue. In response, he manipulated that so-sensitive spot between her thighs until her ache for him felt boundless, ceaseless.

  “Pierce!” she gasped in a writhing plea.

  “You want more?”

  Why was he even asking? She whimpered in answer, squeezing her eyes shut as she twisted and bucked, seeking that last bit of sensation she needed to find ecstasy.

  He pulled back. “Don’t be stubborn. You want to come? All it takes is one word. Just say yes.”

  Brea could no longer think of a single reason to say no. Even if their future was uncertain, she still loved him. She always would.

  Maybe tonight would be the beginning of something new for them. Or maybe it would be the last time she ever touched him. Either way, she wanted to give herself over to him completely so she could savor and hoard every moment they had together.

  “Yes.” She pressed her lips along his jaw before settling her mouth under his. “Always yes.”

  “Thank fuck. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Her body clenched. Her heart panged. Her eyes stung. “Don’t leave me again.”

  With one hand, he cupped her cheek and forced her stare to his. With the other, his thumb still swirled where she ached most. “Shh, pretty girl. I never want to.”

  His solemn expression had Brea clutching him tighter. “Hurry. I need you.”

  “How? Tell me.”

  “Inside me.” And with me. Always.

  His fingertips rubbed and prodded inside her again. “Oh, I am.”

  “No.” She groped for his zipper and yanked it down, then wrapped her greedy hand around his hot, pulsing shaft with a squeeze. “This. Inside me. Now.”

  Agonized pleasure tightened his face as he growled, “Spell it out. Tell me exactly what you want.”

  Brea pulled on his thick erection again, stroking the veins, cataloging the velvet skin over his steely length. “You know.”

  “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it. C’mon…”

  “Fuck me,” Brea whispered.

  She had never spoken that word in her life. It was both horrifying and freeing.

  And ultimately rewarding.

  “Oh, hell,” Pierce groaned as he kicked off his pants. Within seconds, he’d curled his big hands around her backside and fitted his crest against her clutching opening. Then he went still.

  “You’re speaking my language, pretty girl. I’m going to fuck you so hard.” With a harsh forward thrust, he made good on his threat, breaching her to the hilt and slamming the headboard against the wall. “But I’m also going to make love to you until you know you have my heart.”

  Brea’s breath caught. “You’ve always had mine.”

  Pierce drew back and captured her gaze before he thrust inside her again, penetrating her clear to her soul.

  Then, when he was fully seated again, he surprised her by rolling to his back and spreading her out on top of him, chest to chest, slanting his mouth under hers for a breath-stealing kiss. Brea fell into him even more, drowning as he plunged up into her. She rocked to meet him, shocked by the sensations of her skin dragging over his and his erection scraping all the nerve endings inside her.

  “Your cheeks are flushing.” He shot her a cocky grin.

  It was no secret Pierce got off on undoing her.

  She licked her lips. “Your eyes are getting darker.”

  “Shit, I have to watch you.” She didn’t even have time to sputter a question before he sat her up on his erection, bent his knees, and rammed up into her with dizzying force.

  Her head slid back with a long moan as her breasts bounced, her b
reathing hitched, and her sex clenched greedily.

  “Oh, look at you. My pretty, pregnant girl getting fucked…”

  Pierce unraveled her with every heartbeat, every moment, every word. Brea scratched and gasped for the climax swelling inside her. She ached for him almost as much as she wanted this pleasure to go on forever.

  He caught her breasts in his big hands and squeezed, thumbing her nipples, sending her spiraling up even more. “Are they still tender?”

  “Sometimes.”

  He gentled immediately. “Better?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes on a ragged sigh. “Every time you touch me, it’s so good.”

  “Yeah?” he moaned, then cupped the small bulge of her belly. “God, I love the way your body is changing.”

  “Really?” When she looked in a mirror lately, she felt so self-conscious.

  “You have no idea what you do to me. So sexy. I was desperate to fuck you before, but now…you’ll have to push me off you, and even then I’m never going to stop.”

  Brea never wanted him to.

  He grabbed her hips, shoved her down harder, hurtling her even faster toward climax. They fell into a rhythm, hard and deep, staring into each other’s eyes as the sensations clawed higher. He dragged his thumb across her clit, ripping through the last of her composure. She ground down on him and dug her nails into his shoulders as her blood roared and converged. Her body seized up. She struggled for her next breath as she jolted and let out an anguished cry.

  This climax was going to roll over her and redefine ecstasy for her. Like the man himself, it terrified and thrilled her at once.

  “Pierce!”

  Suddenly, he rolled her to her back once more, took her legs into the crooks of his elbows, and careened into her over and over, each lunge punctuated by a hiss of seething breath. “I feel you. Oh, fuck. Yes… Give it to me.”

  She’d been unable to deny him anything from the moment they’d met. Nothing was different now.

  Orgasm exploded, rocking through her body. Above her, Pierce fucked her furiously through the pinnacle, shaking the entire bed and banging the headboard against the wall as an involuntary scream tore from her.

  A throat-wrenching growl rumbled from his chest as he hardened impossibly inside her. Then his whole body shuddered as he released, too, shaking her all the way to the overwhelming end.

  As they quieted and softened together, the world fell away, leaving only panting breaths, their inexplicably deep connection, and the sweet remnants of pleasure.

  Brea sagged against Pierce, struggling to catch her breath and desperate never to let him go. “What happens now?”

  “I tell you I love you.”

  She’d doubted that so many times during their days and weeks apart. But now, as he stared into her eyes, she couldn’t deny his truth. “I love you, too.”

  He smoothed stray curls away from her face, then cradled her cheek. “So let’s talk—at least until I can’t stand that I’m not fucking you. That means we’ll have to hurry because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  Brea lay beside him and rose up on her elbow, her long hair playing peekaboo with her lush tits and pretty berry nipples. One-Mile stared and tried like hell not to be distracted.

  “All right. Let’s talk.” A little smile pulled at her lips. “Quickly. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand being without you, either.”

  He couldn’t resist kissing her. “I’ve created a monster.”

  Her smile widened. “And now you have to deal with me. Poor you.”

  “Yeah. It’s a real hardship.” He winked, then he sobered. “Were you ever going to tell me you’re pregnant?”

  “I was trying to the morning you said we needed to take a step back. After that…” Guilt flashed in her eyes.

  She hadn’t seen the point. She hadn’t thought he’d care.

  Fuck. “So because you thought I’d ‘broken up’ with you, you ran to Cutter and got yourself a fiancé?”

  “I didn’t see any other choice. I couldn’t risk upsetting Daddy, and not just because I hate to disappoint him, though that played a role, I admit. But his health…”

  If her father had suffered another heart attack after that shocking news, he might not have survived.

  One-Mile hated it, but… “I get that.”

  “I also didn’t want to take a chance that the church or the town would turn its back on me. It may sound silly in this day and age, but that’s why being a single mother was never an option. My reputation affects Daddy, too, not to mention my business. I rely on the good opinion of the folks in Sunset. If I don’t have it, I don’t have any clients.”

  And no way to make a living.

  One-Mile scrubbed a hand down his face. He’d created a catastrophic clusterfuck with his stupid, impulsive need to feed Montilla his balls, along with a healthy dose of humiliation. Goddamn it. “So Cutter stepped in to ‘save’ you?”

  “Yes.”

  But why would he do that? Until One-Mile had seen the video of his fellow operator with Shealyn West, he’d assumed the bastard had feelings for Brea and had moved in while she was vulnerable to secure his position in her life. But if that wasn’t true, what the fuck was going on?

  “I mean, we knew there still would have been scandal,” Brea went on. “We talked about tying the knot the first week of January, but I’m having this baby in early May. People were going to do the math, but they would have ‘forgiven’ us since they’ve known us our whole lives. If they found out I’d been with you, though…”

  A stranger. An outsider. A defiler of innocence. A foul-mouthed killer. They would have condemned her.

  Who did they think they were to pass judgment?

  “I get that, too. But it pisses me off.”

  “Honestly, Cutter didn’t want this, either. But what else could I do?”

  And given Montilla’s vow of revenge, their options still sucked. But One-Mile refused to let her go. “Listen, whatever you think happened between us, Brea, I didn’t walk away because I wanted to. Leaving you that morning killed me. You’re mine, and that’s our baby. I don’t want you marrying Bryant. He’s not in love with you.”

  “I know.” She looked suddenly sheepish. “He never has been. I love him, but I’m not in love with him, either.”

  He froze. “But you’ve been together for years.”

  Bryant had called Brea his. The son of a bitch had warned him away at every turn.

  On the other hand, he’d never seen them kiss, much less passionately. The Boy Scout had never looked at her like he couldn’t wait to get her in the sack. Until their night together, she’d been a virgin.

  “No.” She sighed. “He’s my best friend. The older brother I never had. But we’ve never been a couple.”

  Was she fucking serious? “Then why did he let everyone at EM believe you’re his girlfriend?”

  “To protect me.”

  “From who?” But One-Mile knew the answer.

  She winced. “You.”

  He stifled a frustrated groan. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, pretty girl?”

  “Honestly?” She bit her lip. “He made me promise I never would.”

  Of course the overprotective bastard had… One-Mile wanted to be pissed that Brea had waited months to be straight with him. But he had to focus on the bigger picture. Tonight she’d broken her promise to a man she’d known and trusted all her life. What did that say about where her loyalties lay now?

  The satisfaction he got from that realization more than outweighed his anger.

  “Now that I know the truth, you’re definitely not marrying him.”

  “I don’t think it would work out anyway. The morning he and I officially got engaged, he told me he’s in love with someone else. I’m happy for him…except he doesn’t think they have any future together.”

  One-Mile mulled his options, but stupid lies and well-meaning half-truths had landed them in this pile of shit. He saw no point in being
anything other than straight-up with Brea from now on. Besides, she should know what was going on.

  “I don’t know. Have you seen this?” One-Mile rummaged on the floor for his pants, then pulled out his phone, Googled the clip of Shealyn West’s scandalous kiss with her “mystery lover,” and held it up.

  “Seen what?” But as Brea watched, her eyes widened steadily. “Oh. Oh, my goodness. That’s the actress from Hot Southern Nights. And Cutter!” She pressed a shocked hand to her chest. “Obviously, he feels a great deal for her.”

  Besides a raging hard-on? Yeah, seeing it again, One-Mile believed more than Bryant’s dick was involved.

  It would probably end badly for the schmuck. If the famous actress moved on, she’d rip out Cutter’s heart in the process. One-Mile didn’t envy him that.

  Yet despite falling for the blonde bombshell, Bryant had been willing to sacrifice himself and his future to protect Brea. As much as One-Mile hated admitting it, he respected the guy for that.

  “The press is calling him her ‘mystery lover.’ They haven’t identified him yet?” Brea asked.

  “So far, no. If they do, it will get ugly.”

  “I’m sure. But if Shealyn West makes him happy, I hope they can work it out somehow. Cutter deserves happiness. Besides, he would be miserable in the chaste marriage we agreed to. I told him I was okay with him finding pleasure wherever and with whomever he could as long as he was discreet, but I could tell he didn’t like it. He’s the kind of man who will take his vows seriously.”

  One-Mile respected that, too. But he had other questions. “What were you going to do for sex in this marriage?”

  She looked at him with earnest eyes. “After you, I didn’t want anyone else.”

  Damn it. This woman was perfect. He had to yank on his mental leash to resist kissing her. If he didn’t, he’d only end up inside her again. And he still had a whole lot of explaining to do.

  “I don’t want anyone else, either. Just you. I want to live with you and raise our baby with you. But I’ve got to deal with Montilla so you two”—he slid a hand over her belly—“can be safe.”

 

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