Chapter 25 #2
“I’ll make it worth it.”
Fuck. I might need to reconsider this marriage. All these rules. I don’t know if I can hold up long-term with her as a wife, and I refuse to break her rules. They’re all I’ve got right now. I’m going to have to lock up all the whiskey bottles in the house.
She kisses my neck again, going slower this time, letting her lips linger, and her tongue teases over my skin. She knows what she’s doing, and I’m already imagining it in other places.
Never mind locking them up. I needed to break them all. Or buy more.
“Hmm…” She hums a soft moan against my skin and pushes me backward until my elbows hit the bed. She hikes her skirt higher, giving me a peek at her soaked panties. It destroys the last of my willpower. I’m at her mercy.
She grabs my belt, anchoring her grip around the belt buckle like I’m the bull she’s riding now instead of the one she practiced on earlier. She gasps when she rolls her hips again.
“Oh, I think I might like this,” she murmurs, and I look down to see where she's grinding over me and up over the ridge of the metal cowboy hat skull that juts out from the buckle.
“I think I love this,” I whisper and bite down on my lower lip, groaning as she brings me closer and closer to coming in my pants. I should stop her. Preserve some part of my dignity, but I’d rather see her come than have an ounce of it left.
“Is it breaking the rules if I come?” she asks, her eyes opening to meet mine, authentic concern in them.
“You said they were rules for our marriage.” I manage to get the words out despite her taking another pass over my cock.
I’m not going to last much longer myself.
Another muted moan escapes me as she adjusts her position and resettles over me, her eyes locked on mine, waiting for my verdict.
“I think this is a loophole since you’re still technically single for a few more hours. ”
“I don’t want to be the one who breaks them first.” She frowns, her lip worrying between her teeth as her hips grind to a halt just short of sending me over the edge. “Tell me to stop.”
“I’m afraid that’s beyond my reach right now, honey.
I’m like two seconds from coming. I think if you breathe too fucking hard, I’m done for.
” I do my best not to sound like I’m about to fall apart even as I admit it.
“Fuck…” I groan when she shifts a millimeter to the right.
I manage to hold it together. “Give me something not sexy to think about.” I’m digging deep for something, anything to focus on to pull myself out of this fantasy we’re in.
“Imagine—” she starts, and then I hear the wickedest little laugh tumble out of her that I’ve ever heard.
“Imagine I’m riding you bare and begging for you to come inside me right now.
” She rolls her hips again, and her breathing stutters.
“Oh fuck. I think I’m gonna come too.” She follows through, without a single fucking ounce of reservation, and only for her own pleasure.
It’s too much, alongside the image she’s put in my head, and I lose any control I had left.
“Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I curse loudly as I fall over the cliff with her, her soft moans punctuating the roll of pleasure that courses through my body under her control.
She slides off me a moment later, rolling to her side and landing on her back, her hair spread out around her like a dark halo on the white sheets. She shakes with intermittent giggles, a soft grin at her lips, and amusement playing on her face before she looks over at me.
“Do you think I could take up lap dancing if this professor thing doesn’t work out?” She smirks at me.
“I think I know a guy who’s buying your whole fucking dance card out for eternity if you do.”
She grins. “You should go get cleaned up. See if you can salvage that situation before you leave.”
“Yeah.” I push off the bed.
“You want help?” She sits up on her elbows and grins as I make my way to the bathroom.
“I think you’ve helped plenty.” I raise a brow at her.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She laughs.
When I reemerge from the bathroom, she’s already in PJs and drinking water.
She tries to suppress a smirk when she sees my jeans.
They’re only a little stained. Like maybe I dropped a little condensation off my beer on myself when I was in the bar.
Enough that I can use my hat to make my way out as advised.
“Looks like you got everything covered.”
“Water. Electrolytes. Painkillers for the morning. I’m good. Dakota gave us all little hangover kits.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it and see you tomorrow.” I have a million other things I want to say to her, but I don’t want to push my luck, given how much she’s already allowed tonight.
“Wait,” she calls
“What?” I stop, my hand on the door handle.
“A kiss. We should have practiced. To make sure we sell it for tomorrow.”
“You think we need practice?”
“You think we don’t?” Her hands settle on my chest, and she looks up at me with amusement dancing behind them. “Then prove it.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I lean down, slipping my hand under her jaw and bringing my lips close to hers.
I’ve wanted this a thousand—no, a million times—in the time between us then and us now.
Or at least the hope of an us that exists now.
I hover so close I can feel the anticipation in her, her heart quickening at the proximity.
Then I taste her, one soft brush of my lips over hers, and then another.
She kisses me back, tentative at first and then with purpose like she’s trying to remember.
That makes two of us. Because right now, I’m wondering how I ever walked away from her, and I’m so lost in it when she finally pulls away and meets my gaze that I can only think one thing.
Aspen Stockton is about to be my wife, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make it permanent.