Chapter 24
I have no idea what came over me. Why I kissed Beckham.
I went into this sham of a marriage certain that nothing he did or said would make me bend my rules. Not after the way he cut me out of his life as if I didn’t exist.
As if I were just another notch on his belt, like my mother warned me.
But after everything he did for me tonight — from forcing me to take time to myself, to cooking me dinner, to reading to Maggie — I’ve seen a different side of Beckham yet again.
And when he swipes his tongue against mine, tilting my head to allow him better access, all my defenses crumble. The heat of his kiss ignites a wildfire within me, awakening every desire I’ve struggled to suppress since our wedding day.
I convinced myself this was the only way. That depriving myself of his touch was necessary for me to keep my heart intact. After all, losing him all those years ago absolutely ruined me.
But as he pushes me farther into the room, his hands roaming my body, I want him to ruin me. Want everything he’ll give me, regardless of what kind of devastation he’ll leave in his wake.
He breaks his mouth from mine, his heavy breaths filling the room as he peppers rough kisses along my jawline. When he takes my earlobe between his teeth, a moan slips from my throat.
“Beckham,” I whimper.
I’m running hotter than I have in years, an inferno scalding my veins. I don’t know how much more of this torture I can handle, every inch of my body throbbing with need. I haven’t been with another man since Oliver. I’d resigned myself to a life of no attachments. I had to think about Maggie, put her first, even if it meant sacrificing my own needs.
But now, I want nothing more than to lose myself in Beckham. Pick up where we left off all those years ago.
He did tell me to start putting my needs first.
And right now, I need him. More than I do my next breath.
“What do you need, Haley?” he rasps, his husky tone sending electric currents through me. “Whatever it is, it’s yours.” His eyes lock with mine as he grips my cheeks, not allowing me to escape. “Tell me what you want.”
I wrap an arm around his neck. “I want you, Beckham.” I hoist myself onto my toes, but he keeps his mouth just out of reach.
“You can do better than that, Haley. Tell me exactly what you want from me.”
“I want…” My words trail off as his lips leave a fiery path down my neck.
I close my eyes, losing myself in the feel of his arousal pressing against my stomach.
“I want,” I whimper again.
“Tell me.”
“I want you to take off my dress.”
He pulls back. “I thought you’d never ask.” He slams his lips against mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth.
I thought Beckham’s kiss when we got married was hot. The way he owned me in that moment turned me on more than I thought possible. But right now, as his desperate hands explore my body, his erection pressing against me, it makes one thing abundantly clear.
This isn’t just a kiss.
It’s a claiming.
And I’m more than happy for him to own me in every way possible.
Too soon, Beckham tears his lips from mine and abruptly spins me around. I stare at our reflection in the mirror and he meets my gaze, arching a single brow in question. I don’t hesitate, quickly nodding my permission.
The seconds stretch as he laboriously tugs at the tie securing my dress around my neck, allowing the halter straps to fall to the side. When he touches his lips to my shoulder blades, a delicious tremor courses through me. His eyes focused on mine, he pushes the dress down the rest of my body, leaving me in just a pair of lacy white panties.
“Beautiful.”
His hand roams my bare stomach, the stretch marks I haven’t been able to get rid of over the past four years still visible. I avert my gaze, starting to feel somewhat self-conscious. While Beckham’s body has become more defined and muscular since we were teenagers, I haven’t had the same luxury, my curves displaying the unmistakable signs of pregnancy.
But before I can attempt to hide from him, he whirls me around, holding my face in his hands.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Haley. Don’t ever doubt that.” He covers my mouth with his once more, his kiss consuming me as he walks me backward to the bed and lays me down on the soft sheets, settling between my legs.
“Tell me what you want,” he repeats as he nuzzles the crook of my neck.
“I already did.” I try to force his lips back to mine, but he doesn’t let me.
“You’ve spent your entire life following the demands of others. Tonight, I’m putting you first. You’re in charge. You hold all the power. You call the shots. You do what makes you happy. So tell me.” He sensually circles his hips, his erection hitting the spot between my legs where I’m desperate to feel him. “Tell me what will make you happy.”
“If my memory serves, your mouth makes me very happy. At least when it’s not talking.”
He throws his head back, his sexy laugh echoing against the walls.
“Then give me something better to do with my mouth. Where would you like it?” He dares me with his suggestive gaze.
My pulse kicking up, I touch a single finger to my lips, indicating my desire. He responds with a subtle nod before erasing the space between us. Pressing his lips to mine, he cradles my head in his hands as he takes control of the kiss. His tongue explores my mouth like a man who’s just discovered a one-of-a kind treasure, handling me with immense care and attention.
“Where else?” he asks after bringing the kiss to an end.
I tilt my head slightly, revealing the spot where my earlobe meets my neck.
“One of my favorites, too,” he hums in appreciation before lowering his mouth toward to the sensitive area, teasing it with his tongue and causing me to let out a soft moan.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulsing against him, his hard length on my clit driving me wild. And we still have the barrier of his jeans and my panties. I can only imagine how I’ll react when there’s nothing between us.
“Where else?” Beckham asks again.
This time, his voice is no longer cool and seductive. It’s needy, his breathing ragged, jaw tight.
“Between my legs, Beckham. My god, I need your mouth on me so bad.”
“As you wish.” He presses a full but brief kiss to my lips. “But first…”
He slowly inches down my frame, leaving a path of kisses in his wake. Then his eyes meet mine.
“I can’t ignore the rest of this incredible body.”
He circles my nipple with his tongue, the warmth of his mouth causing the pebbled bud to harden. As he wraps his lips around it and gently nibbles, I struggle to hold back my scream. Not because it hurts. While it’s painful at first, it pales in comparison to the raw pleasure filling me, moisture pooling between my thighs.
Nothing has ever felt so damn incredible. I knew it would be different than when we were teens. But I didn’t think it would feel this good. Didn’t think it was possible.
Beckham continues his exploration of my body, giving my other nipple the same treatment before snaking down my torso. When he reaches my stomach, I instinctively tense up. My stretch marks aren’t nearly as pronounced as they once were, but they’re still there, as well as a tiny pouch below my stomach that wasn’t there the last time we did this.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs like he did when he first removed my dress.
His lips worship me as they scrape against each bump and ridge. When he finally settles between my thighs, I lift my hips, expecting him to take off my panties.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he presses his hand to my stomach, gluing me to the bed. Then he covers my center with his mouth.
“Beckham, please,” I pant and buck against him, out of my mind with lust.
“Please what?”
“You’re killing me.”
“This is what you asked for. You said you wanted my mouth between your legs. This is between your legs.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whine. “I need your mouth on me. On my pussy. Not on my panties. I need your fingers inside me. Need your tongue on my clit.”
“That’s my girl.”
He grips my panties and slides them down my legs before returning to me, his eyes meeting mine.
“That’s my wife,” he growls in the seconds before he drags his tongue up my center.
I moan, all the tension that’s been building between us over the past several weeks, hell… years, evaporating as his tongue traces patterns against my clit.
“Goddamn, Haley. You’re even more delicious than I remember. I fucking love the taste of your pussy. Can’t get enough of it.”
I tug on his silky hair, grinding against him as he eases a finger inside, pleasure flooding through my veins.
“Tell me what you need now,” he pants. “My mouth is on you. My fingers are inside you.” He slips in another finger as he increases his rhythm, the sound of my slickness filling the space. “What do you need next?”
“I need you to make me come. I need to come so damn bad, Beckham.”
“And I need to make you come so damn bad. Been fantasizing how you’d feel for too long now.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Make me come, Beckham. And don’t you dare stop until you do.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He returns his mouth to me, his tongue circling my clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
When he twists his fingers to hit that spot only he’s found before, I detonate around him, my body convulsing through the most intense orgasm that leaves me gasping and shaking. But he doesn’t stop, savoring every drop of pleasure as I writhe beneath him.
As my tremors slowly subside, he drags himself back up my body, his mouth crashing against mine in a heated frenzy.
“This doesn’t seem fair,” I whine once I catch my breath.
“What’s doesn’t?”
“I’m naked.”
He bites his lower lip, his eyes flaming with lust. “And I love that about you.”
“But you’re not.”
“You have already seen the goods.”
“True.” I curve toward him, dragging my tongue down his neck. “But I haven’t touched the goods. Not in years. And Beckham?”
“Yes?” His voice cracks.
I run my fingers through his hair, my nails digging into his scalp. “I really want to touch. I need to touch. Need to feel you inside me. Need to watch you lose control.” I grab his face and force his eyes to mine. “I need you to fuck your wife.”
“My wife,” he growls, the animalistic tone causing a primal hunger to stir inside of me.
A hunger for this man to claim me. To own me. To possess me.
“Yes, Beckham. Your wife.”