Chapter 25 #2
Inside, the lawyers were ready and waiting with a new round of paperwork.
I signed legal declaration after legal declaration, Gordain having to add his signature too.
Our promises to each other, and the initial paperwork we had, appeared good enough for the antiquated system we were working within.
My head ached. My arms ached. My brain whirred.
Eventually, the head lawyer handed off the last stack of papers to a frazzled-looking assistant. Then she dusted her hands together and brought her attention to us.
“Is that it?” I asked, almost ready to beg.
“For now. We have to wait on clearance from the guardianship body in the UK, then we’ll be able to file the injunction against the sale. At the earliest, this will be in the morning, but it could take longer.”
Gordain hauled himself to his feet. “Ella needs rest. Can ye recommend a decent hotel?”
The woman gave a professional smile. “I’ve taken the liberty to have a room booked for you. My assistant will organise a taxi and give the directions.”
I nearly fell over myself in gratitude, though I knew the bill would be included in the lawyers’ fee—a debt I’d repay to James, then Gordain and I were out of there.
Fifteen minutes later, we were checking into a busy reception, then another ten and we tumbled out of the lift and to the door to our room. A suite, apparently.
Gordain dropped our bags then took me in his arms. Lifting me with ease, he carried me over the threshold and to the bed.
Then he retrieved the bags, dropped them on a chair, drew the blinds to block the floor-to-ceiling windows and their dizzying view, and commenced a regimented removal of his clothes.
Zombified, I could only watch.
When his fingers took his jeans button, I widened my eyes.
Gordain grinned and stripped entirely, standing there gloriously naked. The silver ring bobbed on his half-hard cock.
I pushed up onto an elbow and tugged at my shirt.
“Let me.” He knelt on the bed in the dim room and carefully helped me out of my clothes.
“You’re so beautiful, wife.” He kissed me then lifted me so he could pull down the covers.
Nude, we huddled together under the sheets, our legs entwined and no space between our bodies.
“I am so in love with you,” I whispered, just audible over the dull roar of blood in my ears.
“Good,” Gordain said, his mouth moving into a smile. “Sleep now, love.”
Everything went black.
The warmth of solid flesh woke me an unknown number of hours later. Night held the room, and the city lights silvered Gordain’s outline. Sixty floors up, the hum of traffic made the backdrop to our private space.
Under me, around me, Gordain slept on, his arms a steel band, holding me close.
I laid a gentle kiss on his neck.
He stirred.
One more kiss met his chin, rough where he hadn’t shaved, the scratch sending tendrils of delight over my skin.
A hand roamed down to my backside. Squeezed.
I pushed up so I could reach his mouth, the sheets concealing us from the slightly parted curtains and the surrounding skyscrapers. My first soft press of lips elicited a rumble of approval. My second, open-mouthed reciprocation.
We kissed, half awake and half asleep, our bodies crushed together, my soft flesh giving way to his hard muscles.
Languorous movements took our limbs, automatic, unhurried, and feverishly seductive.
Not like newlyweds, full of energy and buoyed by a party in their honour.
Instead, we were two souls taking refuge together.
Handing over our hearts for the other to store.
Our hands shaking and breath catching. Testing the edges of the new us and all the pleasure that would bring.
The kiss turned sloppy, and my pulse sped as I dug my fingers into his biceps, into his shoulder blades. Gordain’s hand coasted between us and over my belly, skimming lower until he found the centre of me.
Two fingers slid into my wetness then slipped inside. He stretched me, and I moaned, my nipples pebbling and aching. So good. So hot.
Our mouths fused, the kiss never-ending. Drugging. Keeping us on the edge of wakefulness, our minds content that this was right and good, our bodies following the pull of sheer desire.
More, my mind told his.
I shifted back to put space between our bodies. He withdrew his hand and made slow circles over my clit. I gasped against his mouth.
Then I reached out and found his cock. A masculine growl surged from him. I stroked him, lightly, and ran my thumb over the ring. I was seconds away from straddling him and pushing him inside me. My virginity lost to his rock-hard body.
Gordain left my mouth bereft and kissed his way south. He tongued my nipple then sucked, using his thumb on the other. Stroking me. Teasing.
He dipped lower, laying his lips on my torso. My belly fluttered and I held my breath, because this was it; all I’d dreamed about. The love. The man. The freedom to be happy.
Gripping my hips, Gordain buried his tongue in my folds, long licks followed by his full attention on my clit. His fingers resumed their action, hitting the spot over and over.
I arched into him, giving up a long moan, and wedged my fingers into his hair. A tremor began deep inside, his skilful mouth igniting parts of me I’d never reached by myself. It startled me how well he knew my body.
Then I ignited. The surge of a stunning orgasm hit me, and I cried out, breathless and spiralling. I pulsed around his hand. Gordain worked me through it, slowing, before moving back up my body.
His eyes, when I opened mine, gleamed with hunger.
Reaching down, I took his thick cock and aligned it exactly where it needed to go.
“We don’t have to—”
Still trembling, I kissed him, silencing him. Then I rolled my hips so the blunt, pierced tip of him stretched my entrance.
He made a broken sound. “Ella…”
“I know,” I whispered. No condom, but no risk of pregnancy, either. I knew if he had any doubts about his health, he wouldn’t let me touch him. We were married. I didn’t want him to be scared of this.
I wanted to be his first in the same way he was mine.
“Husband,” I added.
Gordain’s arm muscles locked, and he reared over me, his forehead on mine. “Say that again,” he uttered, his voice thick.
“I love you, husband.”
Surrender came with the surge of his hips. He plunged halfway inside me.
We both roared.
Grasping his neck, I brought our mouths together, my brain scrambling to handle the wealth of new sensations, the stretch of him, so alien and strange, my body adjusting. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t entirely what I expected.
“Are you okay?” Gordain asked, strain in his voice.
I nudged his face with mine, words failing me now.
“You have no idea how good this feels. You are perfect. Ah fuck, I need to move.” He slid an inch deeper. Then another. But we weren’t skin to skin yet. He held back.
“I want it all,” I managed.
With a broken cry, he charged home.
I gasped, and he swallowed the sound. Then we were joined, and I was full of him, the completeness alarming.
I writhed, testing the new feeling.
Gordain jacked his heavy, hard cock in a stuttering rhythm. The discomfort changed to something different. Pleasure bloomed where he touched me inside.
“More. Everything.”
Without breaking our connection, he sat back then lifted my knee, pushing it flush to my body.
The dim light coming through the window cast a glow over the raw power, the beauty that was Gordain McRae.
Holding my legs, he worked himself in and out, his gaze bouncing from mine to the place we joined, his movements speeding up. His breath came in halting shudders.
Mesmerising to watch.
Addictive, and we’d only just begun.
I palmed my breasts, pinching and teasing my nipples. Gordain took a sharp inhale, and his strokes changed. He pulled back and concentrated on just the end of his cock. On that ring, the smooth edge of it on my flesh.
Then he withdrew and ran his pierced cockhead over my sensitive, swollen clit.
I gasped then took hold of him, using him as a tool.
My hot-bodied Highlander threw his head back and hauled in a breath, stilling to let me work myself into a frenzy with him. My breathing got heavier, and the tension at my clit grew almost unbearable.
My second orgasm broke, splintering me. “G!” I yelled, the sensation overwhelming. Gordain seemed to know. He snapped his hips back then entered me in one deep slide.
I throbbed around his cock, helpless against the waves of pleasure.
He’d made me come a number of times, but this, with him inside me, heavy and hard and making me so full of him—nothing could compare.
“God,” I muttered, blissed out and spinning.
But Gordain wasn’t done. He withdrew then slammed home. And again.
We both groaned. Over and over, he fucked into me, setting an irresistible rhythm. Igniting my blood with his power and his devotion. If I hadn’t already told him I loved him, there was no way I could hold it back now. I surrendered to him completely, and he did the same to me.
“I love you.”
“Fuck, Ella!” he growled.
“Come, G,” I said, sensing his precipice.
“Tell me this is okay.” He threw his head back, chest heaving, breath coming hard. “Tell me I can come inside ye. I need to.”
“Yes. Yes!”
Gordain roared and rocketed home. I yelped at how thick he became, and he froze. Inside me, his cock pulsed, setting off all kinds of mini tremors. Then he collapsed on me, spent and glorious.
With my legs splayed wide under his, I swam in the sensation of what we’d done.
Lovemaking.
So powerful. So right.
I was in so deep.