Promise Me This: a friends to lovers, slow burn romance (Wilder Family Book 3)

Chapter 31

I deposited Harlow onto a chair and whirled toward the cupboard to find bowls. They clattered onto the counter, and I turned to the pantry. The choices of cereal were … regrettable. It was all sugary, horrible, and brightly colored.

“Sage has terrible taste in cereal,” I said. “Not even Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Everyone knows that’s the best.”

Harlow sighed. “Indeed. You have four minutes.”

“That’s an arbitrary amount of time, and you know it,” I snapped. This was insane. The dinner was just something, anything, to let me clear my head just long enough that I knew I wouldn’t tear at her clothes and rut like a mindless animal.

“It is,” Harlow said. “I’m just going to start on my boots because that’s not really clothing.”

The sound of a zipper had me pinching my eyes closed, lightly knocking my forehead against the cabinet door. Behind me, Harlow laughed, light and airy. I wanted to devour her, inhale all those noises and keep them for myself.

One clattered to the ground, and she groaned. “Oh, that’s lovely.”

“You are a devil woman,” I muttered. “I’m trying to do something nice.”

The second zipper hissed slowly, followed by another tug and a drop. Another groan.

“Ian,” she said in a teasing tone, “orgasms are also very nice, and I’d love one of those.”

With a raised brow, I turned and pinned her with a look over my shoulder. “Just one?” I clucked my tongue. “Sweetheart, I’m no underachiever.”

“That so?” With her elbows braced on her thighs, my mouth went dry as she leaned forward, the swell of her breasts testing the constraints of her lace bra. “I am quite excited to get to know this side of you. I bet you save all your best talking for the bedroom, don’t you?” Harlow tilted her head, her eyes glittering dangerously, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “If I can hit two orgasms before you even lose the pants, will you call me your good girl?”

My hands tightened on the box of fruity monstrosity, and as we stared at each other, the string of sexual tension pulled so tight that I could hardly breathe. All it took was one sly smile from Harlow, and I threw the box aside.

“I fucking tried,” I said as I hauled her up from the chair and gripped the sides of her face before taking her mouth in a searing kiss. She melted, sliding her hands up my chest, over my shoulders, until her fingers dug into my hair. “I tried,” I said against her delicious lips.

Harlow tightened her arms, arching her back to press closer, and kissed me again, a sweet, helpless sigh escaping as I licked into her mouth. My hands slid down the silky skin of her arms, tugging at the tiny straps holding up her bra, and then my palm coasted up around her ribs, filling next with the warm weight of her breast. She was a perfect handful.

She broke away from the kiss, a sweet gasp echoing through the kitchen when I dragged my thumb over the hard tip underneath the lace. I sucked at the skin just underneath her jaw, relishing in the way she writhed in my arms.

So perfect.

So responsive.

And fucking mine.

Every gasp, every prick of her fingernails into my skin, every caught breath and fierce kiss, I knew we were perfectly, perfectly matched. Her arms were sleek and strong, and when she curled her thigh around my hip to rock her body against mine, I knew this glorious woman could take every damn thing I’d give her.

And I’d give her everything.

I wasn’t sure my bed frame, made from solid fucking maple, could handle what was about to happen. The sheer bone-cracking lust screaming through my veins made me feel like I could crush it to sawdust with my bare hands.

And that was before she ripped at the belt around my waist, the clank of the metal closure the only thing punctuating the wet sounds of our endless biting, sucking kisses. My skin tightened dangerously until I couldn’t help but press into her when she edged her nimble fingers underneath the waistband of my jeans.

She teased first, though, because hell if Harlow wasn’t trying to unleash that beast I’d been keeping perilously in check. Her fingertips tickled the line of hair that disappeared into my black boxer briefs, and my whole frame shuddered.

Pulling back a fraction of an inch, she sucked lightly at my bottom lip, then released it with a pop and whispered, “You know, now that I think about it, I am starving.”

My eyes rolled back when she slid her warm palm down, grasping me fully in hand. Her grip was exactly right, just tight enough, and she moved her wrist up and down, maddeningly, brazenly slow. I pressed my forehead to hers, pinched tight in painful anticipation, as she worked me until my entire body trembled.

The force of how much I wanted her made it impossible to think straight, and I sucked in great deep breaths to try not to lose my fucking mind.

I loved her.

I loved her.

And somehow, impossibly, she loved me too. Just as much. Just as big. And because it was us, there was no doubt it was forever.

She’d love me through my flaws, through my fears, through the highs and lows and the good and bad, just like I’d love her through the same.

A night like this, when we had hours of uninterrupted time together, was the beginning of everything. I wanted her in endless ways, wanted her in ways I’d never had anyone, and even as a filthy carousel of those options flashed through my head—filthy fucking and back-snapping orgasms that had her screaming, and dirty words I’d never wanted to use with anyone—I knew that just as badly, I wanted her sweet and slow, to tell her how beautiful she was while I kissed every inch of her body; that I wanted her in my arms while I fell asleep, and I wanted to wake with my arm locked tight around her.

Harlow nudged her nose with mine, another slow, decadent kiss drawing a breathy moan from her lips. She fumbled with the clasp of her bra while I tugged at the cups, and we both groaned when I filled my palm with her warm flesh that I wanted to bite and lick and suck when I got her into a bed.

When I flicked the edge of my nail over her nipple, she gasped, her hand tightening reflexively.

Before I could do something stupid, like come in my pants like a teenager, I ripped her hand out of my pants and started walking her backward, my hands clamped hard around her hips.

Instead of kissing her, I held her gaze unflinchingly, coasting my hands over the curves of her ass. “You know why I wanted to feed you dinner first?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “Because you’re a masochist and knew I’d be going out of my skin by the time we were done?”

“So close,” I whispered, pausing briefly to ghost a kiss over her lips. “Maybe I needed a moment to make sure.”

Her brow furrowed briefly as I steered her into my bedroom, then kicked the door shut behind us. “Make sure?”

I tugged at the back of my shirt with one hand and tossed it aside, watching with gratification as her eyes hungrily devoured my bare chest. Then I jerked my chin for her to do the same.

With far more grace than I possessed, Harlow peeled off the ravaged bra and let it fall silently to the floor.

“Fucking perfect,” I whispered, dragging a featherlight touch along her collarbone.

As she unhooked the button on her jeans, I let my gaze linger over the ripe curves of her chest, the dip of her stomach, the soft flare of her hips as she worked her jeans down the length of her legs.

With a sharp inhale, I watched her perch on the edge of my bed and shimmy the pants off, her gaze never leaving mine. She raised her hips and tugged them off, tossing them to join her shirt and bra. All that was left was a pair of high-cut white panties, and she sat back with her hands braced on the bed, her legs slightly open while she watched me like we had all the time in the world.

“Had to make sure?” she repeated.

My eyes were locked on the soft skin of her thighs, and I licked my bottom lip. Her breath started coming in pants when I shucked my jeans off, leaving my boxer briefs on as I prowled to the bed.

She backed up the bed immediately, making room for me between her legs as I planted my hands on either side of her head, my knees braced on the mattress.

We didn’t kiss right away, content to indulge in this blatant admiration for each other’s bodies. I lifted one slightly trembling palm and let it skate up the curves of her side, dragging my knuckles over the curve underneath her breast while she struggled to breathe evenly. Her stomach quivered, and unable to resist, I ducked down and placed a sucking kiss just underneath her belly button, dragging my nose along to her hip bone, where the faded lines of stretch marks had my mouth watering. I kissed those too, and she clutched my head to her while I licked over the curve of her ribs.

“I had to make sure,” I spoke against her skin, “that I could keep my head straight.” I kissed the center of her chest, inhaling the sweet scent of her there, nuzzling to the side so that my beard tickled the side of her breast. She gasped, and it melted into a decadent moan when I licked the flat of my tongue over her, sucking her fully into my mouth.

I pulled back, releasing her with a pop, and she rolled her hips but only found the hard edge of my thigh. “Had to make sure I wouldn’t lose my mind, Harlow.” My eyes locked on her before I teased the edge of her other breast with the tip of my tongue, a soft flicking motion that had her trembling beneath me. “That I didn’t fuck you into the mattress without enjoying you first.”

“Ohhh,” she moaned, her hands sliding up into her hair where she gripped the strands. “Yes, that, please. We can be slow next time.”

I tutted quietly. “No, sweetheart, I only have this first time with you once,” I whispered. I nuzzled the edge of her jaw, sliding the flat of my hand down her stomach until my fingers slid under the soft material covering her. “I’m taking my time. I want you out of your mind first.”

When my fingers eased between her legs, she sobbed my name, and I let my mouth hover over hers, our harsh breaths mingling and her brow furrowing in tortured anticipation.

“Look at how much you want me,” I said in a low voice, curling one finger, then two inside her, the slick heat of her locking my muscles with unspent tension. “Do you have any idea how good you feel?”

She rocked onto my hand, chasing her pleasure shamelessly, and I pressed my heel against her, hitting the spot she wanted because her back snapped up, and her mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

“That’s it,” I coaxed her. “Show me one, beautiful girl.”

Harlow’s hips moved up and down, and I let my hand and fingers be the anchor she worked herself on, the foundation of building what we both wanted. Then as I felt her get closer, I pressed my heel down, grinding on her as her chest heaved while a low moan built in her throat and her body fluttered around me.

When it crested, I saw it break across her face, and greedily, I watched like it was all for me. Like this piece of her bliss was the best part of all of it because it was.

I did this to her.

The yearning that started out as a sweet ache morphed in the wake of Harlow’s desire, a flash of furious heat that melted over my skin, tingling through to the tips of my fingers as I pulled from her body while she came down on long, gasping breaths.

I tore at my boxers first, and when I was fully naked, I settled between her thighs, allowing the sweet softness of her body to cradle mine. Harlow angled her chin, taking my kiss with a decadent sigh, our tongues twining as I rocked my hardness against her.

She nipped at my bottom lip, and I hissed at the sharp edge of her teeth.

“I think there’s one more piece of clothing that needs to go,” she whispered.

“This?” I asked, snapping the edge of her underwear against her body.

“Might feel better without them on.” Her grin was quick and happy, and with a groan, I snatched another fierce kiss.

“Oh, it will,” I promised, another hard rocking between her legs. I wrenched her thigh up against my side, gripping it tight in my hand. Maybe I’d leave bruises, some mark that only she and I would know about. “Maybe one more like this?” I asked her in a light, teasing tone. “Do you think you could?”

“No,” she moaned, clutching at my back. “I want you. Please.”

The sound of her begging had me gritting my teeth, struggling to get myself under control. It was in that necessary pause that Harlow took matters into her own hands.

Literally.

Her hands slid down, wrenching her underwear to the side and gripping me in her hand.

“Harlow,” I warned.

She tilted her chin up, the light in her eyes such a heated challenge that I felt a quick flash of fire down my spine. She’d be the death of me.

Then she worked herself forward, a tiny rocking motion of her hips as she eased herself onto me, just an inch inside, then another. White noise filled my head, and I damn near blacked out.

Just heat.

Perfect, tight heat.

“Have it your way,” I growled, snatching her hand off me and slamming it onto the bed. I gripped her wrists in one hand, bracing her leg tight against my chest, and in one brutal thrust, I bottomed out completely.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and I almost fucking exploded on the spot, but I held there, unmoving, memorizing the absolute perfection of the viselike tightness of her around me.

Slowly, so slowly, I pulled back and watched her face with greedy desperation, eager to see what this did to her.

Then I snapped my hips forward again, angling up at the very last second.

She sobbed my name, and I lost it.

“Perfect. You are so fucking perfect, Harlow.”

“Ian, right there. Yes. Just like that.” Her hands clutched desperately at my back. “Harder,” she begged. “Please.”

Instead of giving her what she wanted, I slowed the motion of my hips, a decadent rolling, back and forth, slowly enough that my pulse roared and my fingers tingled from the desire to go harder, harder, harder.

But I wanted this to last forever. It was so good, she felt so good, that I forced myself to push both of us to the sharp edge of insanity.

She was right before, because I scraped my teeth over the edge of her jaw and told her all the things I wanted to say. All the words I’d held back until exactly this moment.

That she was beautiful. That I wanted to lick between her legs until she screamed. That I wanted her over me, working herself until she shook. That she was sweet and delicious, and I was addicted. That I’d take her from behind next and go as hard as she can handle.

Harlow surged up, stealing a fierce kiss while she dug her fingernails into my back, dragging them down in lines that had me hissing. The addition of that sharp bite of pain had my muscles screaming to take her exactly as she begged, to split open the universe with what we were able to make each other feel.

Everything that came next was a furious blur of heat and gripping hands, sloppy, biting kisses and dirty whispered words while I took us both into a plane of existence that I’d never come close to before. Nothing else mattered, my entire world distilled into the way she clutched my back, the way she kissed me through each ounce of pleasure I took.

And I did.

It was relentless, and I wanted to live there forever, finding the meaning I’d always been searching for right there in her arms. Each time I sank back inside her, pleasure sparked along the base of my spine, and the relentless drive of my hips had her keening underneath me. The wet slide of her body and the slap of my skin against hers had me gritting my teeth.

“Come on, baby,” I groaned. “Give me another one, Harlow.”

She came once more like that, a burst of sound coming from her mouth that I could hardly define. A tear streaked over her temple, and I licked it off her cheek as I thrust hard, harder, harder. I curled my hands under her shoulders, bracing her body tight to mine while the ball of heat at the base of my spine grew and grew and grew.

When it splintered, I felt it coat my skin in a million tingling pieces, and I shouted her name into her sweat-soaked skin.

Slumped into her arms, we traded sweet kisses as we tried to catch our breath.

“Oh my.” She sighed when I eased out of her and laid a heavy arm over her middle, kissing along the edge of her shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on me, Ian Wilder.”

My body shook with laughter, and I nudged my chin up to kiss her again. “Tell me about it.”

Harlow turned to her side, snuggling into my chest as her legs intertwined with mine. “You’re saying you would’ve done this sooner if I’d told you that my sex skills are magical.”

I conceded the point with a small raise of my brows. “Fair enough.”

She kissed me lightly, then hummed. “Now I could go for some of those eggs and toast.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded.

My palm coasted along her back, down to the curve of her ass and back up. “Soon. I just need to touch you a little bit more.”

Her smile was so smug that I laughed.

“You’re so obsessed with me,” she said, eyes alight with humor.

“I think I am.” I slid my hand over her cheek, my face going serious. “You know I don’t do anything halfway, Harlow.”

“I know.” She kissed me, just a short peck. Like we’d done it a million times. “That’s one of my favorite things about you, even when it drives me up a fucking wall.”

“You are it, Harlow, for the rest of my life. I’ll want to marry you soon. Fuck dating, we’ve known each other way too long to deal with that bullshit. I want everything. You, me, Sage, whatever little smart-ass kids come after. Everything.”

Her eyes were bright, glossing over with happy tears. “I think I can handle that,” she whispered shakily.

I dragged my thumb along her bottom lip. “Good,” I murmured. “Now … let’s eat. I’m not even close to done with you tonight.”