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Dawson Family Boxset (Books 1-3)

Page 67

by Emily Goodwin


  I want to offer him everything. I want to give him all of me.

  “Ohhh,” I moan when his lips gently brush over my stomach. He kisses me softly and my entire body hums in rhythm to him. He moves closer, parting my legs, and I reach out, grabbing the edge of his dresser to steady myself.

  And then he moves in, slipping his hand up under my panties and pushing them to my side. There’s no easing into it. No warning. His tongue lashes out against my clit and my mouth falls open, but I’m unable to make a sound.

  He licks and sucks, speeding up and slowing down, going at me hard and soft and he’s paying attention to my reaction the entire time, taking note of what I like better, and then he does it again. And again. And again.

  I feel the orgasm coiling tight inside of me, and he brings his free hand up, nails dragging over the flesh of my ass and pushes a finger inside of me. He rubs against my inner walls, finding my g-spot. He pushes against it, holding the pressure there for a moment before releasing. Holy shit. I press my head against the wall behind me. This feels so fucking good.

  He does it again, moving his fingers in more of a circular motion. It’s a different stimulation, one that sends another wave of pleasure through me. Part of me thinks it’s going to all come crashing down soon, and I’ll be left with female blue-balls. Because this build-up is too good. And things that are too good to be true usually are.

  “Ohhh my god,” I moan, and everything inside of me becomes alive. Weston sucks my clit, while at the same time he flicks his tongue against it. He continues to finger-fuck me, rubbing my g-spot with two fingers. If my eyes were open, they’d roll back in my head.

  My mouth is hanging open and I grip tighter onto the dresser, feeling my knees threaten to buckle. If I fall, he’ll stop, and having him take his mouth off my pussy would be a sin right now.

  I need to come.

  He knows it, and as soon as I’m close, he pulls back.

  “Wes,” I growl, trying to find my voice. I reach down with my free hand and take a tangle of his hair, keeping his head against me. “Weston Dawson,” I say, forcing my eyes open. “If you stop—”

  “What?” He looks up with so much lust in his eyes I could drown. “What will you do if I stop?”

  Holy fuck, this man. I arch my back, pushing my pussy forward and in his face.

  “If you stop, I’ll be forced to finish myself while you watch, and then I won’t let you lay a finger on me.”

  Wes inhales and dives back in with an open mouth. He licks and sucks with fury, and only a minute later I’m hardly able to hold myself up. The orgasm rolls through me, slow at first and then crashing in with fury. It floods every part of me, making my toes curl and my ears ring. I come so hard wetness spills from me.

  “Holy shit,” he pants, wiping his face.

  “Should I be sorry?” I pant as stars dot my vision.

  “Hell no. You are so fucking sexy, Scarlet.”

  I rapidly blink, still floating on ecstasy. I pitch forward, hands landing on Weston’s broad shoulders. He stands, scooping me up. I’m like a rag doll in his hands. He brings me to the bed, gently laying me down. He moves on top of me, parting my legs and moving between.

  I’m still fully dressed, with damp thighs and wet panties. He brushes my messy hair back, kissing me so that I taste myself on his lips. I feebly reach for the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it up over his head. It’s a moot point; I’m not fully functional yet. My pussy is still spasming from the intense orgasm he just gave me, and we’re not even close to being done.

  “Weston,” I breathe, so quiet I’m not sure if he can hear me.

  “Scarlet,” he whispers back, holding himself over me. I swallow hard and bite my lip.

  Reaching down, I undo the button on his jeans, freeing his massive cock. The sheer size of that thing is hardly contained by his boxers, and it feels so fucking good in my hand. I push his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. I let my eyes fall shut, waiting until my heart stops racing to sit up. I plant my hands on Weston’s muscular chest and give him a shove. He’s so big and so solid he doesn’t move.

  Instead, he takes my hands, moves them aside, and flips me over onto my stomach. With a slap to my ass, he gathers the hem of my dress in one hand and slips the other under the band of my panties. I arch my back, making it easy for him to pull them off me.

  “Sit up,” he grunts, and I obey without question. Licking his lips, he eyes me up and down. I push onto my knees, looking at his cock in all its massive glory. Precum wets the tip, spilling down the thick shaft.

  Weston grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head. He groans with want when he sees me. He inches closer, running a hand up and over my breasts. The dress I was wearing required a pushup bra, and I’m looking all cleavagey right now, with my tits pushed up and together. He brings his head in to my breasts, kissing his way up along my collarbone. With deft fingers, he unhooks my bra.

  I hold the cups against me, slowly letting the straps fall down one at a time. Weston waits, licking his lips with anticipation. I smile coyly, watching his face as I let my bra fall to the mattress. He sweeps his hands over me, thumbs circling my nipples.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says and moves back to me, kissing me with fervor. I’m on my knees, naked before this man, but I’m anything but shy. I push him back, wanting to level the playing field. He needs to be naked too.

  Biting my lip, I inch forward, hands going to his pants. I pull them the rest of the way down, after struggling to get them over his ass, Wes gets impatient and yanks them off.

  “Your shirt,” I say, leaning back a bit. “Take it off.”

  Wes looks me right in the eye and gives me a devilish smile before pulling his shirt over his head.

  I want him to go down on me again, make me come so hard the entire world falls off its axis again. But there’s another thing I want more than coming so hard nothing else matters.

  Him.

  I want to feel him push inside me. I want to join together, even briefly, and exist as one. It’s fucking lame, I know, but dammit, I’m craving him like a starving man craves food.

  “I need you,” I whisper, body coming alive at the thought of that big, muscular man lying down on top of me. “Now.”

  “You’re sure?” he asks, and having him make sure I’m good with this is such a turn on.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.”

  He lets out a growl and moves on top of me, spreading my legs as wide as they’ll go and lining his cock up to my entrance. He pauses, kissing me first, and then pushes that big cock inside of me.

  He fills every single inch, and I cry out with pleasure as he pulls out only to push back in. I bend my knees, hooking a leg around him. He rocks his hips, thrusting in and out slowly at first and then speeds up his movements. He’s doing everything he can not to come right now, and I’m getting closer and closer to coming again myself. My eyes are shut, and my head is to the side. I have one hand on Westin’s ass, feeling him drive that big dick in and out of me.

  The other hand is gripping the sheets beneath us. Because I’ve never felt anything this intense in my whole life. I’m not just having amazing sex with Weston. We have a connection, and being together like this only furthers that.

  I squeeze the leg that’s wrapped around him, bringing myself up against him. Wes moans, head falling forward. He buries it in my neck, teeth nipping at my skin. Then he pushes in balls deep, biting at my neck as he comes. Feeling his cock pulse inside of me pushes me over the edge, and I dig my nails into his skin as I climax again.

  Weston holds himself in me for a moment, and then moves back, holding himself above me just enough to look into my eyes. Brushing my hair back, he kisses me softly and pulls out, lying down on the mattress next to me.

  We’re more than aware of the mess we’ve made, neither of us care. Weston pulls me into his arms, spooning his body against mine. We stay like that for a moment, neither of us wan
ting to move. But I have to pee, so I force myself up and hurry to the bathroom. I clean myself up and dash back to bed. Wes pulled the covers down, and I climb in next to him.

  Moonlight spills in through the window, illuminating Weston’s face. I sit up, sheet falling off my shoulder and gently brush his hair back. My heart is still hammering away in my chest, breasts rising and falling. I’ve never felt so much with anyone before.

  I’ve never let myself.

  I’ve been afraid, though laying here next to Wes, I don’t know what I was afraid of.

  “Tired?” I ask him, snuggling back down against his muscular chest.

  “Not really.” He folds me up in his arms, and it’s like I’m where I’m supposed to be. Where I’m meant to be. Soon enough, the effects of the intense orgasms he just gave me will wear off and the gravity of the situation will hit me.

  Whether or not I’ll survive impact is still up in the air.

  But I do know I want to survive it. Even though I’ve stayed in the same place for so long, I’ve spent my whole life running. Trying to escape what was right in front of me, and it’s not until this very moment that I realize I was running in circles.

  “Are you?” His lips brush against the back of my neck as he talks.

  “No, but I don’t plan on getting up any time soon.” I roll over and hook my leg over his. He sweeps his hand across my waist, splaying his fingers over the small of my back. I push one arm under his pillow, pulling myself closer to him. He kisses my forehead and I close my eyes, relishing his warmth.

  “We should have done this the first time I kissed you,” Wes says softly.

  “We’re quite good at it,” I say, nuzzling my head against him. “We could have been doing it the whole time. But that’s okay because we get to keep doing it now.” I don’t realize what I’m saying until it’s said. I’m implying we’re taking thing to the next level, that we’re in a relationship more than boss and employee now.

  He’s my boyfriend.

  Previously, the thought would have made me go running for the hills without a look back. But now…now things are different. Wes is different.

  He made me different.

  Or maybe…maybe he brought out exactly who I always was. Who I was always meant to me. He showed me that there’s nothing to fear, that surrendering to someone isn’t scary. It’s exhilarating. It’s freeing.

  That admitting I’m happier with him doesn’t make me weak. It makes me stronger, and having my heart beat right along his is the thing I was missing my whole life. He makes me want to be a better person and leave the past behind me. He even makes me think it’s possible to move on and start over.

  Simply put, he makes me happy. Nothing will bring me down from the high I’m on right now.

  “Scarlet, we need to talk.”

  27

  Scarlet

  The way he says my name makes my heart skip a beat, but not in a good way. I tense and sit up, suddenly cold now that I’m away from his body heat. He swallows hard, doesn’t look me in the eye, and pushes himself up on the mattress. Moving his pillow behind him, he leans against the headboard.

  “You regret sleeping with me?” I blurt.

  “Fuck no.” He shakes his head and reaches for me. I tense, heart hammering away and feeling like I might throw up. I open my heart to a man for all of half a night and he’s already dropping the we need to talk line.

  What is wrong with me? Why did I think things would be different with Wes? I’ve been burned by love so many times in the past, starting with my own mother. Love isn’t real, and I need to pull away now before I die in a sea of flames.

  “Scarlet,” he says again and takes a hold of my waist. He’s stronger than me and he knows it, but I’ll be damned before I let him get the best of me.

  “I can just go if you want me to.” I pull away and start to get out of bed.

  “What?” he rushes up, moving toward me. “No. I don’t want you to leave. Please.”

  I stop, turning around and looking at the man before me. He’s so big, so muscular and strong. And yet he looks so vulnerable right now. Letting out a shaky breath, I inch closer. “I’m no good at this, Wes,” I admit. “I usually avoid my feelings and try not to let myself get attached to anyone or anything. It’s hard for me to trust people and you’re freaking me out.”

  “I know,” he says, snaking his arms around me again. I should protest, but dammit, it feels so good to have his body against mine. I cave and let him pull me close, and I snuggle up with my head on his chest. “That’s why I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” I run my hand up his side, bracing myself.

  “Maybe I should have told you before I slept with you.”

  I sit up, eyes wide. “You’re not helping your case.”

  He nods and closes his eyes in a long blink. “I’m still married,” he says and waits, expecting the bomb to go off.

  “Oh. That’s it?”

  His eyebrows go up. “You’re not mad?”

  I shake my head. “I already knew that.”

  “You did?”

  “Quinn told me at the bar tonight.”

  His brow furrows. “Oh, well that’s good I guess.”

  I smile. “So, does that solve our issue?”

  He doesn’t look at me. “It feels unfair to you to start something when I haven’t ended things with Daisy.”

  “Do you want to end things?” I ask carefully, afraid of his answer. My heart is on the line here and one word can change everything. I inhale and brace myself for the worst. That he doesn’t want to end things. Daisy is Jackson’s mother, after all.

  “I wanted to end things before she left,” Weston admits, and his words throw me.

  “Really?”

  He nods and looks away. “We were together for a long time. Being with her was easy because it was familiar. But that didn’t mean we were meant for each other, and we kept waiting for things to get better. Obviously, you know how that turned out. So, yeah…I want to end things.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “I didn’t see the point. If I dated again at all, it wouldn’t be for a long time. I can’t do that to Jackson…bring someone into our lives and risk them leaving.”

  “But didn’t you want to date?”

  “Of course I did. And I do. But Jackson comes first.” He flicks his eyes to me and my heart skips a beat. I look at this beautiful man before me, realizing now more than ever that he’s everything I never knew I wanted. I used to think my dream man had to be a rich alpha asshole, but now I know how wrong I was.

  My dream man is kind and caring, fiercely protecting those he loves. He’s willing to put his own happiness on hold for the sake of another. He’s brave and stands up for the right thing. My dream man values his family, doesn’t get caught up in petty drama and…and is sitting right next to me.

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “She left when Jackson was almost two months old.”

  “Oh, wow. I mean, I’m sorry. Can I call her an idiot? Because she is to leave both Jackson and you.”

  Wes smiles and the tension leaves his face. “Yeah, you can call her an idiot.”

  “I’m not sure how the laws work in Indiana, but I know some places have abandonment of marriage rules or whatever they’re called so you can get a divorce without her signature.”

  “I know. I’ve thought about it but never saw the point. But now…”

  My heart flutters and he takes me in his arms again. “Now?”

  “Now I want to.” He holds me tight against his chest, and brings one hand up, combing his fingers through my hair. “I didn’t think I’d find someone who’d fit.”

  “Fit?”

  “Into our family,” he says quietly. “Someone who I want to be with and someone who’s good with Jackson.”

  I blink rapidly, keeping tears at bay. I’m not a crier. Damn you, Weston.

  “You think I fit?” I ask, each word coming out a little stro
nger than the last.

  “Yes,” he says.

  I close my eyes and lose my battle with the tears. One slips out, cascading down my cheek and landing on Weston’s chest.

  “Scarlet?” He tips my head up to him. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “The opposite of wrong.”

  He hugs me tight and presses his lips to mine. Another tear falls, and he wipes it away with his thumb as he cups my face. I inhale deep, trying to calm myself down. This is everything I wanted and now that it’s happening, I’m already panicking about it coming crashing down around me.

  “If it’s too much pressure to date someone with a kid, I understand,” Wes starts.

  I stop fighting my tears and kiss him. To anyone else, maybe this isn’t a big deal. It’s not like a marriage proposal or anything, but to me, this means so much.

  He looks at me and sees something more than the girl from the ghetto.

  “So,” he goes on, kissing me once more. “I’m going to talk to a lawyer. Tomorrow.”

  I can’t stop smiling. “I think that’s a good thing.”

  He rolls over, pinning me between his large body and the mattress. Heat rushes through me and my pussy contracts. I can still feel him in between my legs, as I’m sure I will in the morning. I curl my legs up around him. His cock jumps and knowing I’m turning him on just from my slight touch makes me horny all over again.

  I buck my hips, rubbing myself against him. The tip of his semi-hard cock rubs my clit and I let out a moan. I do it again, feeling his cock get hard as I use him like a sex toy. Wes takes hold of his cock and rubs it against me, not stopping until I’m squirming against him, mouth falling open as I come.

  I’m still riding high, unable to form a coherent thought or even lift my head off the mattress. Wes doesn’t wait, doesn’t give me time to come down from the high. He moves to the edge of the bed, grabs my ankles, and pulls me toward him in one swift movement.

 

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