Wicked Ever After

by Shayla Black

  Her body went taut. He could see her heartbeat throbbing at her neck and her fair skin flushing with arousal. She wouldn’t last long. Neither would he.

  “This is the first night of the rest of our lives,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to spend it inside you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, lifting her head to kiss him.

  Her mouth was a distraction he’d never regret. No matter what he was doing or where he was going, if she offered him this mouth, he was going to take it.

  One-Mile nipped at her soft lower lip, then slid inside. She tasted as sweet as the wedding cake she’d eaten earlier. He moaned, drowned, and happily lost himself as she put her arms around him. Then she urged him onto his back.

  To humor her, he rolled to a prone position. “Want something, pretty girl?”

  She nodded. “You always give me pleasure from head to toe. I want to do the same to you.”

  He folded his hands under his head with a wicked grin. “You want to touch me? You go right ahead.”

  “Anywhere?”

  “Everywhere. It’s all yours…”

  “It better be, mister.” She shot him a playful grin.

  He smirked back as she bent and slid her pouty lips across his jawline, breathed on his neck, then nipped at his ear before she whispered, “When I touched myself, all I could think of was you. The thumbs grazing my nipples were yours. My fingertips gliding down my skin were yours, too. And when I stroked myself…”

  The cocky grin slid off his face. “You thought of me when you touched your clit?”

  “Every time.”

  Her purr in his ear, coupled with her touch skimming his torso like the most elusive tease, made him shudder. “Yeah?”

  “Yes. And I sometimes lay in bed at night, fantasizing about of all the ways I’d touch you if you came back to me.”

  “All of them?” He swallowed hard.

  “Over and over.” She pinched his nipple.

  He sucked in a breath, feeling a jolt of pleasure all through his body. “Oh, baby. You’re not my shy thing anymore.”

  She shook her head, the satisfied female grin she wore a temptation in itself. “Between your seduction and the pregnancy hormones, you’ve created a monster.”

  Hot damn. “Show me.”

  Her smile merely widened, then she dragged her lips down to his pecs, nipping at the flat discs of his nipples as her teasing fingers swirled around his abs, played in his navel, then toyed with the button on his pants. “You’re overdressed.”

  Holy shit, she was raising his blood pressure. “Couldn’t agree more.”

  One-Mile shucked everything he wore in record time. His cock ached for her, and he resisted the urge to lead her hand down. He wanted to see how bold she would get on her own because he was definitely enjoying this. Not that it would last. He loved seducing his pretty girl and making her blush too much to give that up.

  “Think I won’t show you?” Her smile was almost smug as she bent her head and flattened her tongue across his nipples. At the same time, her fingers stopped their idle wandering and wrapped around his cock with a squeeze.

  One-Mile hissed at the dual jolts of sensation, then muttered a thick curse when her thumb skimmed over the sensitive head in a barely there brush and her fist bumped the ridge under his crown.

  Holy fuck, where did she learn that?

  He moaned. “Pretty girl?”

  “Yes?” She toyed with his nipple and stroked his shaft in long, slow glides, dallying with all his most sensitive spots and acting as if she had all night to torment him.

  Touching her had aroused him enough to start his heart revving and his blood pumping. But this? If she didn’t fucking stop soon, he’d embarrass himself. “It’s been a month. Why don’t you let me—”

  “You said I could touch you everywhere because it’s all mine.”

  And he’d meant it…when he’d thought she would be shy and cautious, and therefore merciful. But not this siren all but floating on top of him, her mouth drifting to torment his other taut nipple before she started meandering down.

  He sucked in a breath. “Oh, baby…”

  Brea lifted her head, licked her lips, and smiled again. “That sounds almost like begging.”

  It felt almost like begging. “I left you alone too long. Let me make you feel good.”

  “You left to protect me. Let me show you how much I love you for it.”

  When she kept pressing butterfly kisses down his abdomen, punctuating each by dragging her tongue along the ridges of his muscles as she kept sliding lower, he nearly jackknifed up, rolled her to her back, and shoved his face in her pussy.

  But he didn’t…yet.

  “What did you have in mind?” he finally panted out.

  “I want to show you that when I’m hungry, you’re my favorite snack…” She breathed over the head of his cock.

  One-Mile gasped and shoved his hands in her hair. “I’m getting that. Oh, hell. Yeah…”

  She licked her way up his shaft, then glanced at him. She might be an angel, but she had the devil in her eyes tonight. “Good.”

  Then she stopped talking…and he stopped fighting. Instead, as her lips pursed around him, he sank back into the bed with a long groan and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to hold out long like this, but he’d warned her…

  “Hmm.” She licked him like a lollipop, alternating long strokes and hard sucks.

  He tensed, need coursing through his body like someone had supercharged his veins with lightning. A thick ache gathered, and her hand dropping to fondle his heavy balls didn’t help his struggle in the least.

  “How about a little mercy?”

  “No.”

  He tightened his grip on her hair and meant to lift her mouth from his cock so he could take over again. Instead, he ended up showing her the exact pace he craved.

  She took to giving him pleasure like she’d been born to bestow it, catching on to every silent cue he gave her. Soon, he was tensing, panting, thrashing under her slow, heavenly mouth as desire built and morphed into full-blown demand.

  Shit, shit, shit. Brea had taken him right to the edge. He gritted his teeth to stave off the need, but she just kept coming at him with her soft, relentless determination.

  As much as he’d love to go off now, he wanted to be with her.

  “That’s enough.” He lifted her off of him with a growl, rolling her over again. He splayed his big body over hers so she couldn’t move. “I want you so fucking bad, but not like this. Not now.”

  She licked her lips again and sent him a little pout. If she was trying to torment him, it was working. “It didn’t feel good?”

  “You know it did, and I will let you suck me raw later if you want, but that’s not what I dreamed about when I made love to you in my mind over this last month.”

  “What did you dream of?”

  “First, you need to catch up with me.” He rose over her on his hands and knees.

  “Catch up?”

  He grasped her thighs in his hands and shoved them wider. “You need to be on the edge of orgasm, too. But I’m not a nice guy, so I may just make you scream instead.”

  Before she could reply, he dove for her pussy, parted her delicate folds with his thumbs, and lapped her from her soaked opening to her hard clit. Teasing him had clearly aroused her. Good to know.

  Under him, she cried out and twisted. He leaned in, settling more of his weight over her.

  “I dreamed of this, too.” He swirled his tongue around her, shoving his fingers inside her, then nipped at her tender bud with his teeth. When her little yelp morphed into a moan, he gave her a dark smile. “I dreamed of making you take every dirty thing I’m desperate to give you.”

  And then he stopped talking because he didn’t want another fucking thing to interfere with him consuming her. Sweet and tart and clean, everything about her flavor was so Brea. He wanted to bottle it. He wanted to bathe in it. He wanted it on his tongue always.
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  He wasn’t gentle and he wasn’t slow as he ramped her up until her cheeks turned red and her fingernails dug tiny pinpoints of pain into him. And still he didn’t let up, just kept devouring her until she squirmed and squealed and finally begged.

  “Please, please, please…”

  When he felt her clit pulse and she tugged on his hair, pulling him deeper into her pussy, she was finally aching the way he was. One-Mile jerked free from her hold and eclipsed her body with his as he aligned his crest at her opening.

  He pushed his way deep with one savage thrust.

  Brea’s eyes widened. She cried out and arched, need clearly surging—just like his. “Pierce!”

  “Want me to fuck you?” he growled in her ear, filling her frantically, trying to get as close to her as possible.

  “Yes.”

  “Need me to fuck you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ache for me to fuck you for the rest of your life?”

  Her eyes met his, looking so molten and hot. “Yes.”

  “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Really?”

  “Marry me.”

  “Yes.” Her voice hitched as she half moaned.

  His heart stopped. “You mean it? You’ll marry me?”

  “Yes!” She tossed her head back, eyes closing as she rocked and gyrated under him. “Yes…”

  He pressed his lips over hers and dove as deeply into her mouth as he plowed into her body. She accepted all of him and gave him every bit of herself in return. One-Mile reveled in the fact that there were finally no walls between them and no part of her that wasn’t utterly his. He didn’t stop giving her every bit of his desire and devotion until she clung to him—lips, arms, legs, pussy—as if she knew only he could make her whole.

  “Brea?” he gritted out as he ground into her. He couldn’t hold out anymore. “Baby?”

  “I’m here. I need…” She gasped as her whole body suddenly clamped down and stiffened. “Yes!”

  The instant he felt her pulsing around him, One-Mile lost it, emptying himself into her, giving zero fucks that he had irrevocably given her his heart and soul and tomorrows. There was no one else he’d ever share any of those with except Brea.

  As he collapsed on top of her, breathless and drained, his heart roared and his head swam. But he smiled. “If you think I fucking love you now, wait until you’re my wife.”

  “I love you.” She gave him a spent little grin as she peppered breathy kisses all over his face. “I love you so much.”

  “That’s something else I dreamed of in that godforsaken desert.” He brushed the soft waves of her hair away from her damp, flushed face. “Coming back and putting a ring on your finger.”

  Her shy smile somehow torqued his just-sated desire back up. “I can’t wait for that…but we have a lot of things to work out first.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, we have decisions to make like when and where to get married, not to mention where should we live and—”

  “ASAP. You pick. And my place.”

  “Okay. That’s fine. But”—she winced—“there’s something you have to do first. Well, two things.”

  One-Mile sighed in contentment as he sifted through his thoughts. Then he realized at least one shit pile she probably wanted to talk about. “I owe you an explanation about my father.”

  “That’s one, yes.”

  He tried not to stiffen. He’d opened that Pandora’s box of crap and he owed her the truth. “All right. And the second?”

  “You have to meet my dad and ask him for my hand.”

  Somehow, he’d suspected she was going to say that. What if the man refused to give them his blessing? One-Mile wasn’t sure, but whatever it took, whatever he had to do, he couldn’t take no for an answer.

  An hour after Sunday services, Brea floated on cloud nine as she chatted with some of Daddy’s parishioners who had come to their house from the seniors’ Bible study group for a luncheon. After a nice honey ham and potato salad, she’d cleared the dishes away and fired up the coffeepot. But a couple of the ladies bustled into the kitchen to join her.

  “Can I get you something, Mrs. Rogers? Mrs. Lloyd?”

  “No, dear.” Betty Rogers bustled closer, the string of pearls around her neck gleaming as brightly as her blue eyes. “We’re here to help you.”

  Emma Lloyd nodded and reached for the coffee pot, despite her arthritis. “You should be sitting more. Don’t want to get too tired before the baby comes.”

  She smiled at them both. Contrary to her fears, most of the members of the church had been lovely and accepting since learning that she was pregnant. All those fears about disappointing everyone and running off Daddy’s parishioners had been unfounded. Sure, a few seemed a tad dismayed, but mostly that Cutter had married someone else, rather than taking care of the girl he’d gotten “in trouble.” No matter how many times she’d conveyed this baby wasn’t Cutter’s, they chose to believe the tabloids. A couple of them even confessed to being addicted to TMZ. Go figure.

  Hopefully they would believe her once she and Pierce finally made everything official.

  Marry me.

  Brea was so giddy, so ready to openly and officially be his fiancée.

  “I appreciate the help, ladies, but I’m fine.”

  “You might be, but I saw a devastatingly handsome man parking a black Jeep just down the street and striding up here like he means business. Sound like anyone you know?” Mrs. Rogers asked with a wink.

  Pierce had come here to talk to her father? Already? Today? Now?

  Suddenly, Jennifer Collins raced into the kitchen. “I think you should come quickly.”

  “So I’ve heard. Where is Daddy?” This might be a disaster waiting to happen. Her father meeting her baby’s daddy for the first time was definitely going to be somewhere between tense and contentious. But in front of a good chunk of the church?

  As much as she hated it, she had to stall Pierce.

  “You two start the coffee,” Brea said to the elderly ladies, then turned to her father’s fiancée, who was already planning a June wedding. “Keep Daddy away from the door. For now. They need to meet but…”

  “This isn’t the best time,” Jennifer agreed with a nod. “It’s why I came to find you. Jasper is still in his study with the ‘boys’ talking football, but that won’t last.”

  “Keep them busy if you can. Thank you.”

  Then Brea darted out of the kitchen and into the living room to intercept Pierce.

  “Do you have a minute, dear?” Mrs. Benson stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. Her husband stood beside her with a hand to his belly. “I think Tom needs some antacids, and I’m afraid I don’t have any more in my purse.”

  Of all the terrible times…

  “I’ve got some.” Emma Lloyd came to her rescue, digging through her little blue clutch.

  She turned to the woman and mouthed a big thank you before hustling toward the door again.

  Until last night, she hadn’t dared to dream of a day Pierce would knock on her door and ask Daddy for her hand. But since telling him last night that he needed to if he wanted to marry her, he’d wasted no time.

  When she reached the window, she spotted Pierce outside. Her eyes widened in shock. He was wearing an actual suit with a legitimate tie. Oh, dear goodness. Not only was he trying to win her father over by looking downright respectable, she had no doubt he was making the extra effort for her sake. For their sake.

  She loved him all the more for it.

  Not only that, he looked incredibly hot in a charcoal suit, a black shirt, and a pale gray tie. What were the chances everyone would give them privacy so she could strip him down, climb him, and ride him like the stud he was?

  Blushing at the thought, she rushed toward the door as he mounted the first step up to her porch.

  Suddenly, he stopped and yanked his phone from his pocket. “Walker here. Colonel?”

  Brea could hear
his clear, deep voice just outside.

  Who was this colonel? What did he want?

  “What can I do for you, sir?” Pierce asked as Brea pulled the door open. “Or should I just ask who I need to kill?”

  She gasped. He’d just gotten home, and already someone needed his skill set again? She knew that was his job and that it would never be easy, but it was a Sunday and they hadn’t had a moment’s peace in months…

  Pierce winced, looking like he’d love to curse but refrained for her sake. “Any chance it can wait an hour?”

  Brea blinked. She needed more than an hour with him. Just the conversation with Daddy would probably take half the afternoon, but for her to get her fill of his company after so long apart… It wasn’t possible.

  The annoyance in his expression deepened. “On my way.”

  With a sigh, he ended the call and pocketed the phone as he climbed the last step onto the porch. Something somber crossed his face as she stepped outside and shut the door behind her, swallowing nervously as she cast a furtive glance through the window to see if Daddy was barreling down on them. Thankfully, Jennifer seemed to be keeping him occupied.

  “Pierce,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “You know what I want, pretty girl. I’m here for you. And when I come back, I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She shivered at the hot determination in his tone. “All right. But can you tell me where you’re going already?”

  “A meeting. In town. I don’t know how long I’ll be until I assess the situation.”

  “Situation?”

  “The colonel—Hunter and Logan’s father—needs me. It’s urgent. I owe him so many favors… I know this is really shi—I mean, lousy timing. But I am coming back. I’ll always come back to you.”

  “Maybe tonight?” She looked over her shoulder again to see several of the older ladies staring at them out the window and fanning themselves with their hands. She tried not to laugh. “We won’t have the seniors’ Bible study here then.”

  He looked up and finally seemed to comprehend the attention they were getting. “Gotcha. Tonight. I’ll, um, text first. But you know why I’m coming.”