23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harry
Watch me.
Yeah, fuck that. Her words snap a cord in me, and I lose control. I'm on her. Lips crashing, teeth clashing, devouring her. This is us at our best, when we are fueled with anger and lust.
She unbuttons my suit pants, tugging them to the floor. I return the gesture by tearing her lace panties away from her body, pushing her dress up with such a force I almost tear that too. The need to claim her making me feral. I lift her, wrapping her leg around my waist, lining up my throbbing cock, leaking with pre cum and I slide on home. We both groan at the feeling. Her heat only arouses me more. I drill her into the wall, as she claws at my back, a heated moan leaving her lips.
“You are so fucking wet for me. Do you think he could get you this wet, huh?” I hiss.
“Fuck you,” she moans. I grip her hips with such force I know I’m marking her. Her legs tighten around my hips as I brace a hand against the wall to steady myself.
“Do you think he could fuck you like this, Ali Cat…” I give her thrust after punishing thrust until she whimpers. “Say it,” I groan, between drilling her into the wall so hard, I fear we will go through it. “Tell me you won't date him.”
A breathless moan falls from her lips, her nails digging into my skin, but I welcome the sting.
“I…” She gasps her body showing signs she’s close to finding her release when she begins to shudder.
“Say it,” I growl, loudly this time, as I feel my balls tightening. I need her to say it, and just when I go to beg her again, the words fall from her lips in the sexist breathless moan I’ve ever heard.
“I won’t date him. I’m… I’m yours.” And that’s all I needed. I bury myself to the hilt, and she bears down as I pump into her.
“Come on, H,” she pants. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“Fuck.” This woman. Her words are my undoing, making my heartbeat wildly. I drive in to with such a force her walls clamp around me and she starts to scream my name. Conscious of the guests hearing us, I bury her head into my neck to muffle her moans of pleasure and she bites down and sucks. I hiss at the feeling of her teeth sinking into my flesh, but it only intensifies the burning pleasure I’m experiencing.
I come hard, burying myself in her so deep I feel her spasm around me once again. Lifting my head, I press my lips to hers as we come down from our high together.
“What are you doing to me?” I mutter under my breath. Trying to process what the hell just happened here, why I reacted like that.
Untangling her legs from my hips, I pull out and place her down on her feet, and it’s only then that I realize. “Fuck!”
“What?” She looks down at where our bodies were just connected. Her dress still bunched around her waist.
“I forgot a condom.” I look up at her, waiting for her to curse at me and rightly so. I've never forgotten a condom, never lost my head the way I just did.
“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry, I just—”
“It’s fine. I have the implant and I’m clean. I always use—”
“Me too. I’ve never done it without one.”
She looks down and the evidence of our lack of self-control slides down the inside of her thigh. To my shock, she swipes her index finger through it, brings it to her mouth and licks the end of her finger, her hooded eyes meeting mine. “Mmmhm, we taste pretty good together.” She moans around her fingers.
Fuck me dead. This woman is another level.
That may be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
She repeats it again, but this time she brings her fingers to my lips, and I open my mouth and I suck. A salty, sweet taste explodes on my tongue, and it has my dick hardening again.
“I'd have to agree,” I tell her.
I reach for the box of tissues on the vanity and pass them to her so she can clean up.
“Is it weird that I find it hot as hell knowing you are walking out of here with my cum inside you?”
“Yeah, a little,” she laughs. “But I like it.”
“So, we agree. We aren’t going to fuck around or date anyone else?” I state, not willing to let this go.
“Harry, we talked about this. I don’t do the relationship thing.”
“I know. All I’m just suggesting is that we only fuck each other.” She eyes me curiously. “Look, when it's this good, why would we need to fuck anyone else? Besides, I’ll be back in London soon. Then we can do what we want, but for now, it’s just you and me… pinky promise.”
“You and the pinky,” she chuckles.
“I can think of somewhere I’d like to put my pinky.” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively, earning another light laugh from her.
She hooks her pinky with mine. “Pinky promise.” A satisfied feeling washes over me.
She’s agreed.
“Good girl.” I wink.
She picks up her torn panties from the floor and stuffs them in my pocket. “Here, call it a souvenir.” She turns to look in the mirror. Smoothing out her hair and brushing her fingertips over her swollen lips.
“Okay, I’ll leave. Give it five minutes before you come back.” To my surprise, she presses a chaste kiss to my lips before she turns to the door, unlocking it. “Oh, and pull up your collar. Looks like you've been bitten by a cat,” she says, giving me a wink and I fight the urge to keep her here and claim her again.
I glance in the mirror and notice the marks she’s referring to. “So, I have. By my very own Ali Cat. She got her claws into me good and proper.”
This girl is making me lose my damn mind, and I'm not even mad about it. I just don't know how I'm meant to leave her and go back to London.
I unfortunately did not get to play peekaboo or hide the sausage with Ali last night. She was so busy keeping Ria from spiraling and doing her bridesmaid duties that it was impossible for her to get away.
I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, adjust my shirt and bow tie so Ali’s bite mark isn't visible, but damn, did the sight of it turn me on. I love that she's left her mark on me, and I have plans to leave mine on her tonight.
I run a hand over my dark stubble, thinking of all the ways I plan to devour her.
“Fuck this thing,” I hear a very agitated Jack shout from the room.
“Dude, what is with the temper tantrum?” I ask, hands placed on my hips.
“He can’t get his bow tie on,” Brad states as he bends to tie his black dress shoes.
“It’s broken. It can’t be this hard to tie a bit of material,” he grits, as he looks at his reflection in the full-length mirror, attempting to tie it again. I can see he's stressed, so I give him a minute before I attempt to help him.
Jack whips his head round. “What the fuck is that?” His eyes widening.
“What is what?”
“That.” He steps towards me and pulls down my collar, revealing the bite mark.
“Ugh.” I am lost for words.
Shit, say something, you moron.
“Or should I say, who gave you that?” His eyebrow rise in suspicion.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve been hooking up with this girl and she likes to get a bit feral.”
A wicked grin spreads across Brad’s face. “Oh really? Who’s the girl?” he says from the corner of the suite where he stands putting his jacket on.
I throw him a warning look. “No one you would know.”
“I bet I would.” He winks.
“You don't.” I glare.
“Haz, if you've got a girl, you should have said. She could have come today.”
“Yeah, Haz, such a shame she won't be here today.” The grin is not leaving Brad’s face.
The fucker is enjoying this, and now I’m sweating.
“So, is it serious?” Jack asks, turning back to the mirror to attempt the bow tie again.
“Not really. We hook up and have hung out a few times. She ‘Notebooked’ me the other day, whatever that means.”
Jack turns on his heel to face me. “Oh, you are in deep,” he says, his eyes widening.
“What?” I reply, my brows furrowing.
“Girls only Notebook guys they like.”
“Does someone want to enlighten me as to what the fuck ‘getting notebooked’ is?” Brad asks.
“The movie, The Notebook. They make you watch it to make you sad and see if you cry,” Jack states.
“And did you?” Brad eyes me curiously.
“I, might have teared up… a little.”
“What the fuck?” Brad yells, face contorting.
“They died in each other’s arms, Bradley. How do you not fucking cry at that?” I yell.
“It’s true.” Jack nods.
“Oh god, not you too,” Brad says dragging a hand down his face,
“Oh yeah, cried like a baby. He wrote her three hundred and sixty-five letters,” Jack says, pressing his lips together.
“Yeah, that bit got me too,” I say, clearing my throat and blinking rapidly, feeling the emotions coming back.
“I can't with you two. Pussy whipped, the pair of you,” he says, shaking his head. “Tell me you both at least got some after watching that shit.”
Me and Jack both stay silent and a horrified look seeps across Brad's face.
Jack clears his throat. “We had a nice cuddle.” He sniffs, brushing down his jacket.
Brad’s face is priceless. “Alright, Barney the dinosaur, did you talk about your feelings after and sit round the campfire holding hands.” Shaking his head again, he mutters, “a fucking cuddle.”
“It might do you good to watch it. Get in touch with your feelings,” Jack says.
Brad eyes him. “Being in a house full of woman has changed you.”
Jack grins. “I know.” Brad rolls his eyes and laughs.
“Well, tell me you got some,” he asks, pointing at me.
“Oh no, we cuddled, she passed out, and I cried myself to sleep.”
“Dear god,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How are you two getting laid on the regular?”
Jack leans into him clapping him on the back. “Because we cuddle.” I nod in agreement, holding out my hand to Jack for a fist bump.
“I have no words,” Brad says, shaking his head.
We laugh. “But seriously, Haz, I want to know about this mystery girl,” Jack says.
“I will, when the times right.”
When the time is right? This isn’t a thing, is it?
They finish getting ready as I pour a whiskey from the minibar, and an unsettling feeling nestles in the pit of my stomach. The idea of not seeing her when I want, not having any more silly movie nights, hits me. That's all going to end when I go back to London and that thought doesn't sit well with me.
After several attempts at the bow tie and a surprise visit from Noah, we made it to the ceremony with minutes to spare before the blushing bride arrived. I’m so glad he was able to make it back for their special day, I know the guilt of missing his baby sister's wedding to his best friend would have eaten him up. As soon as we walked into the church, it was as if any nerves or worries left Jack. He oozed cool calm and collected, but why would he be nervous? He was about to get everything he has wanted since I’ve known him.
He got a chance with his very own mystery girl; the girl that he harbored an unspoken love for so many years, till fate brought them back together. It makes me think of Ali. We keep saying one night, one more time, but what if fate was trying to push us together, what if our one night was never meant to be just one night? What if we were meant to be more and we are too busy fighting it instead of leaning into it?
The music begins to play from the orchestra sitting to the side of the church. “Until I Found Her” Stephen Sanchez plays, and the words couldn't be more fitting. Lexi and Elle make their way down the aisle looking utterly adorable.
Then comes Gabby, looking beautiful and graceful, and then Ali. My eyes are immediately drawn to the blonde gliding down the aisle, in a sage green satin gown, looking like a goddess. She looks mythical; too stunning for this earth, as she makes her way to the altar. Just as she turns to take her place on the opposite side I stand on, she gives a little wink, and it feels like a Cupid's arrow hitting me directly in the heart.
Shit, I’m in trouble here.
The guests stand to watch as Noah escorts Ria down the aisle. Ali turns to watch her friend, but all I can focus on is her. Tears prick her eyes as she bites the inside of her cheeks to prevent herself from crying. My instincts tell me to go to her, hold her hand and comfort her, but I can't.
She turns back to face me when Ria meets Jack at the altar, and I can’t help but smile. I stare at her throughout the service, not caring if anyone notices. When the minister declares them husband and wife, the church erupts into cheers and clapping. We pair up and follow Jack and Ria out of the church. Ali links her arm with mine as we walk down the aisle.
“You look stunning,” I whisper.” A blush creeps across her face, and she smiles, not looking at me, her gaze straight ahead to where we are headed.
“You are looking pretty damn fine yourself, H.”
Grinning like the cat that got the cream, we walk out, halting as we reach the steps of the church, the photographer calling for us to pose for a photo. Standing next to Ali I lean in, lowering my voice only loud enough for her to hear. “You’re staying in my suite tonight. Don't fight me on it.”
“Wasn't going too,” she whispers back. My eyes catch hers and the way she’s smiling at me makes me forget where we are for just a second. Her icy blue eyes are looking at me and only me, and nothing else matters right now.
The flash of a camera goes off and snaps us from our gaze.
“Okay, let’s try that again. You two face the camera please,” the photographer instructs, gesturing to me and Ali. We pose and he does his thing, one thought running through my head.
There is not a chance I can leave for London without her. I'm not close to being done with Alice Hart.