“Drew,” she murmurs, her hands immediately going into my hair as she guides me, holding me to her chest. “Please. I’ve waited too long. I want you inside me.”
“Waited too long?” I lick at a nipple over the lace, wetting the fabric and her flesh. She gives a little twitch, a gasp escaping her, and I smile. “We’ve only just begun.”
“It’s been weeks since we’ve been together like this. I don’t want to wait any longer,” she pleads breathlessly. Desperately.
“Don’t rush me.” I want to take my time but I’m as eager as she sounds. Without thought I’m gathering the hem of her nightgown in my fist, pulling the smooth fabric up her legs, revealing that she doesn’t have a stitch on beneath the silk. Everything inside of me goes hot and achy. I’m desperate to unleash on her, show her that she belongs only to me. “I think you need to wear this again tomorrow,” I say, my teeth gritted, my entire body shaking with need.
“Why?” She gasps when I kiss her hip, one thigh, then the other. I feel her tremble beneath my lips and I briefly close my eyes, inhale the musky, sweet scent of her. There are so many things I want to do to her but I can’t focus. I’m filled with the need to plunge deep inside her and never stop.
Ah, shit. I realize she’s waiting for an answer and all I can do is think about how fast I can get inside her.
“Um, because I want to savor you in this pretty gown but I can’t. Not right now.” I’m pulling it off her and she lifts her arms above her head so I can tug it free, getting her as na**d as I am. “You’re right. We can linger tomorrow, huh?”
“I suppose we can.” Laughter escapes her as she settles her head back on the stack of pillows, her legs spreading to accommodate me between them. “If you want.”
“Oh, I definitely want. We can linger tomorrow. Even later tonight.” Leaning in, I lick one bare, perfect nipple. “Tomorrow morning.” Then I lick the other. “Whenever, wherever, you’ve got me, baby. I’m all yours.”
And that’s a f**king promise, I think when I push inside her welcoming body, losing myself inside her just like that. She’s hot and wet and tight, clamping so perfectly around my throbbing cock, and I know one thrust would send me straight into oblivion. It’s so easy with Fable. So easy it used to scare me. She’s so accepting, so loving, so sweet and protective and fierce and blunt and beautiful, and all mine. I’m filled with the urge to possess her. Mark her and f**k her and make her realize she will never belong to any other man.
Only me.
I thrust deep and hard, not being cautious or gentle, and she seems to want it that way too. Her breathless words encourage me, the way her eyes glow as she stares, watching me in wonder. Her fingernails cut into the skin on my ass as she pushes me deeper, as deep as I can get …
Fuck. I’m done for. Ruined for any other woman. But that already happened years ago, when I first laid eyes on her. I knew then, I had a weird feeling that this girl would change my life.
She has. In the best way possible, too.
“I love you,” she whispers against my shoulder as I ram deep inside her. Her slender legs are wound around my h*ps and she’s clinging to me as if she never wants to let me go.
“I love you, too, baby.” I feel like I could say it again and again and it wouldn’t be enough. I want to give her everything she could ever wish for. I want to make all of her dreams come true. I want no one to hurt her ever, least of all me. I want our life together to be perfect.
Wishful thinking, I know, but a man can hope.
She pushes at my shoulders and I lift up, my hands braced on either side of her head so I can look at her. She smiles up at me, cupping my cheek with her hand, and I turn my head, press a soft, damp kiss to her palm. “I don’t ever want to forget this night,” Fable whispers. “The night we first made love as husband and wife.”
Aw damn, she says that and makes me feel guilty for taking her like a brutal animal. I swallow hard, wanting to make it right for her. “You want me to slow down?” I ask.
“No way.” The wicked smile that crosses her face makes me flash one at her in return. “Don’t stop, husband. Please.”
That is all the encouragement I need. Lifting my hips, I push inside her to the hilt, feeling her arch beneath me, her br**sts brushing against my chest. Our bodies are slick with sweat, the fever inside me seems to match the heat within her, and I reach between us, touching her clit, circling it, stroking her hot, soaked flesh, paying attention to her face because I know the look she gets right before she comes.
Her eyelids flutter, her swollen lips part on a silent moan, and I wait to hear her breath catch just before it happens. Right now she’s murmuring nonsense, her eyes are closed and she’s arching her head back, inviting me to kiss her neck, which I do. My fingers are coated with her wetness as I continue to stroke, and when I hear the telltale catch in her breath, I lift my head to watch as she whispers my name once, twice, then again as her body starts to quake beneath mine.
My orgasm comes over me like an out-of-control wave, hard and fast and so completely unexpected I freeze above her, my own lips parted as I hang there for a long, agonizing second before it consumes me.
“Ah fuck,” I whisper harshly as I collapse on top of her, the aftershocks still coursing through my body, making me shiver. She skims her hands up and down my back, soothing me. Her touch feels so good I feel the urge to purr like a f**king cat, and if that isn’t the most ridiculous thought ever. I mean, f**k me. Purr like a cat?
I think sex with my new wife has just sent me into another realm entirely. One I will gladly revisit again and again.
Chapter Three
Fable
This morning, I feel pretty freaking amazing. Recharged and refreshed. The sun is shining on my mostly bared skin and I’m sitting on the private hotel beach, the sound of the surf buzzing in my ears, my husband beside me. I want him. No surprise since we’re on our honeymoon and all, but yeah. I’m ready to go back to our beautiful, spacious hotel suite, strip him na**d, and push him onto the massive king-sized bed so I can touch and kiss him all over.
I wonder if he wants me like that, too. Or if he’s too tired. We went at it all night long. Like crazy teenagers full of lust and hormones. My body aches in places it hasn’t ached in forever. I had no idea my body could contort into such crazy positions.
A giggle escapes me and I clamp my hand over my mouth. He doesn’t need to know I’m sitting here reliving what happened last night and how badly I want a repeat performance.
Okay, maybe he should know I’m sitting here reliving it.
Forget worrying if he’s too tired. We’re married now. I can have my way with him whenever I want. And he’s always game.
Always.
He’s cozying up to me now, despite the intense heat pressing down upon us. The sun is so much stronger here, but I don’t let it bother me. I’m blissed out and on my honeymoon with my husband’s heavy arm slung around my shoulders, his nose nuzzling my cheek and making me giggle some more.
“I still can’t believe we did it.” I turn my head to watch him as he rears his head back, waiting for his reaction, needing to see it. I shade my eyes against the too bright sun, studying his handsome face. I can’t stop thinking about last night. The wedding. The dinner we ate afterward, though I barely remember how it tasted—I’d been too enraptured with my husband and the importance of what we’d done.
How long I took to prepare for him, and none of that mattered because he attacked me anyway, which I loved. It was as if he couldn’t control himself. I like knowing that I make him feel so out of control. And I love knowing that he’s my husband now.
It all feels so surreal.
He leans back in the sand, his arm sliding off my shoulders, and I immediately miss his touch. “Oh, I can believe we did it. I’ve wanted to do this for a while now. Just been waiting for you to give me the go-ahead.”
“You wanted to do what?” Okay, I’m confused, but maybe it’s the sun or this hot specimen of a man who’s my husband, who knows? As I turn to fully look at him, my mouth goes dry at the sight before me.
Drew all sprawled on the warm sand, leaning back on his elbows, wearing low-riding swim trunks and nothing else, all those beautiful muscles on display. My gaze roves over him hungrily, remembering the hot, intense honeymoon sex we had last night and into this morning. His longish dark hair flutters and waves with the gentle breeze that washes over us, and his eyes are covered by yet another pair of expensive sunglasses he’ll probably lose. Because he’s so good at that, losing things.
Except for me. He couldn’t lose me if he tried.
“Make you mine in every sense of the word.” He smiles and I smile in return, my body trembling at his words. He sounds so serious despite the easygoing smile, and it doesn’t help that I can’t see his eyes. They’re probably the most expressive feature on his face. I do love it when he gets possessive, though. I might sound like a freak, but it arouses me like nothing else.
Well, everything Drew does arouses me. He can stand at the sink and brush his teeth in the morning and I want to jump him.
Of course I want to jump him. Because in the morning when he’s brushing his teeth, he’s usually standing there either in just his boxer briefs or a pair of sweats that hang so low on his h*ps I swear I can almost see everything the boy has to offer.
And oh my, can he offer a lot.
Shaking my head, I drop my gaze, hoping he can’t read my mind. I have it so bad for my husband it’s crazy.
“I like the way you say that,” I admit, turning away from him so he can’t see my face, my flushed-with-embarrassment cheeks. All this thinking of Drew brushing his teeth and everything else that comes with it is making me hot. For him. “That I’m yours.”
“You are,” he says simply. “And I’m yours, too. Now we’re legally together. Nothing can tear us apart.”
“Together.” I dip my index finger into the sand and draw a giant heart, then write D + F in the center. Like the matching tattoos we share on the inside of our wrists.
He’s suddenly there, right beside me, pushing me so I have no choice but to lie on the sand. Drew comes over me, his face in mine, his body pressing me deeper into the warm yet damp sand. “Forever,” he whispers just before he kisses me, so deeply I have to wrap my arm around his neck and grip his hair for fear I’ll melt into nothing because of his fiery lips and persuasive tongue.
“Let’s go back to the room,” I murmur against his mouth long minutes later. The beach is fairly abandoned since it’s morning, but there are a few people wandering by. I wonder if they can see us. What will it be like when people actually recognize him one day? That’s going to happen. I know it and so does he, and we’re trying to prepare, but how can you fully prepare for the unknown? How are we going to deal with it?
“Sounds perfect.” He smiles and kisses me again, on the tip of my nose, and I laugh when he grabs my hand and yanks me off the sand. I wipe my butt with my free hand, then snag my beach bag, slinging it over my shoulder as he starts dragging me back toward the hotel.
He’s eager, his long strides eating up the sand, and I have to practically run to keep up. I’m eager, too. My heart is racing, my skin is hot, and my ni**les are hard beneath the tiny string bikini Drew picked out for me earlier this morning in the hotel guest shop.
Yes, my husband likes to see me prance around on the beach practically na**d.
But I don’t care. I don’t look half bad. He’s such a fitness freak and so is Owen, so I’ve taken to exercising with them. They jog, I jog. They go to the gym, I’m at the gym with them, running on the treadmill, using the elliptical until I’m moaning and groaning in pain. They just laugh at me.
It’s fun, though, being with them. My boys. My family.
They’re the only ones I have.
Drew
The hotel we’re staying at is top notch, the best money can buy, and I paid a pretty-ass penny for the suite we’re in, especially since we booked it so last minute. It’s huge—you could probably fit a family of six in there—with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a gourmet kitchen. Ridiculous, since we’re not cooking a damn thing in this place.
And the lanai with the ocean view is amazing. All open air and giant windows, it’s filled with huge overstuffed couches and chairs, the doors kept wide open so the warm, salty air drifts into the room, washing over our skin. Like our own little paradise, which it is. Right now, I feel like Fable and I are in our own little world, the only two people on this planet.
The sun-kissed air washes over my heated skin at this very moment, not doing a thing to cool me off. Not that I want to be cooled off. I have my wife in my arms, my hands gripping her ass beneath the thin fabric of her bikini bottom. Her body is slammed against mine, warm and soft, her br**sts so snug against my bare chest I can feel her ni**les poking through the fabric of her top.
Our mouths are fused, our tongues sliding against each other, hot and soft. I lift her and she immediately gets what I want, going with me easily, her legs slipping around my waist as she clings to me like she’s never going to let go. I remove one hand from her ass to settle it over the center of her back, slowly tugging the string on her bikini. The knot unravels easily, her top loosening around her chest as I crawl my fingers up her back to her neck, making her giggle against my lips.
“What are you doing?” she asks, muffling her laughter by pressing her lips together as I undo the tie at her nape.
“What does it look like?” I raise a brow and lean away from her a bit, pulling the top off completely and tossing it on the floor. “I’m getting you na**d, my pretty wife.”