Chapter 16
Sixteen
Nash
“ N ash,” she whispers as she throws back her head.
“I can feel it, baby,” I say, my hands at her hips as I help pull her up and then slam her back down on my cock. I watch her ride my cock with my back against the headboard. “I feel you all over me.” I move my hands from her hips to her juicy fucking tits that are swaying in front of my mouth, twisting both of them at the same time. Her body jolts as she rides me faster. She woke me up with this mouth, swallowing my cock. I didn’t want her to feel left out, so I dragged her up and set her right on my face, my tongue sliding straight into her pussy as she fell forward, taking my cock again in her mouth. I waited until she came on my face before I sat up and told her to ride me.
“Nash.” She says my name again, this time her mouth against my lips as she slides her tongue into my mouth before arching her back. “I’m coming.”
Her hands go from my forearms to my shoulders where she holds on to me, fucking me faster. She rises all the way up to the tip of my cock before she slides back down. “Hold it off, baby,” I urge her, and she shakes her head. “You come harder when you take your time.” My hand lifts to the back of her head, fisting her hair in my hand and pulling it back. “Baby, don’t make me take you off my cock.”
“Don’t you dare.” Her words come out breathlessly. “I need you,” she pleads.
“What do you need?” I ask, my mouth over hers. “You have my cock.”
“I need your fingers,” she says, slamming down on me and grinding her clit against me, “and your mouth.”
“What my baby wants,” I say, letting her hair go, “she gets.” I move my hand between us, my thumb rubbing through her folds, her wetness on the tip now. “Damn, baby.” I look down at her pussy swallowing my cock. “I thought my cock in your mouth was a good view.” I rub her clit side to side, and her back arches. “But watching you ride my cock.” I slide my tongue into her mouth. One hand reaches behind her, gripping my thigh, her nails scoring into the skin as the other hand comes up to hold my face. Her pussy gets so tight around my cock, I’m surprised she can even pull it off me.
Her forehead stays on mine as she pants, “I’m so close.” Right before she sucks my tongue into her mouth like she was sucking my cock. “It’s coming.” My thumb moves even faster, matching her thrusts as my hips lift off the bed. “It’s so good,” she says right before she slams down on me, her back arching, her legs trembling, and my mouth absorbing her moans. “Nash.” I close my eyes, feeling her pussy spasm around my cock and her wetness dripping all the way down my balls. “Nash.” She says my name again, and because I’m sitting up, it makes it easier for me to wrap one arm around her waist and the other around her back before I flip her to her back mid-orgasm.
“Legs.” I clench my teeth mid-thrust as she puts her legs over my shoulders so I can get deeper inside her. “Fuck,” I curse as I drive into her harder than I have before. “You were fucking made for my cock.”
“I think I’m going to”—her eyes roll in back of her head—“again.”
“Tell me, baby.” I slam into her. “Who were you made for?” I’m not going to last much longer. Being inside her is my fucking kryptonite. I’d give away everything I have to slide into her. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours, I was made for you.” She barely has the words out of her mouth before my mouth crashes down on hers, and I come in the middle of the kiss. My thrusts slow down until I empty everything in her, and only then do I let her lips go. “How the hell does sex get even better?” she asks me as I slide out of her to the side. “Like for real.” I look over at her as she looks over at me, lying naked on the bed. “Like I thought last night was over here.” She puts her hand up. “But then now.” She sits up. “Over the top.”
“Better than the night we got married?” I ask, and she has to think about it.
“I mean, that is as high as last night, the day after, however.” She turns to get off the bed. “Now that is, I think, the highest.”
She walks around the bed to the bathroom and stops by my side of the bed. “I will say on the record, your cock is the nicest cock I’ve ever seen”—she winks at me—“and used.”
“I’m flattered.” I fold one of my arms under my head as I watch her go to the bathroom. My eyes move from her to the open window, seeing the sun starting to come up. The sound of the water hitting the rocks is outside the open window.
“Nash.” She sticks her head out of the bathroom with her toothbrush in her mouth. “Want to order room service?”
“If it means spending more time in bed with you”—I sit up and reach over to grab the phone—“I’m all over it.”
The woman answers the phone after one ring, “Good morning, Mr. Griffin.”
“Morning,” I reply. “I’d like to order some pancakes, scrambled eggs, some sausage and bacon.” I look back, hearing the shower turn on. “Also some coffee and orange juice.”
“Sounds good,” she says, “would you like some champagne?”
“Sure.”
“It should be about twenty minutes,” she informs me.
“Perfect,” I say, hanging up the phone and walking into the shower in time to see her pinning her hair on top of her head. “Twenty minutes,” I tell her. She looks over her shoulder, and I see a hickey on her ass cheek next to bite marks. My cock goes to half-mast. “You didn’t tell me you were taking a shower.”
She opens the glass shower door and steps in, laughing. “I didn’t know I had to run it by you.” Putting her head back and to the side, the water runs down her body. My cock is now fully hard as she turns around to make the water wash over her back. My hand goes to my cock. “You going to stand there and ogle me?” she asks before turning to face me. “Or are you going to come in here and wash my back?” She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I take the four steps to the shower, pull open the door, and step in. My head bends to kiss her, and the taste of mint hits my tongue at the same time my hand finds her pussy and two fingers slide into her. “Hmm,” she purrs, opening her legs more to give me access as she grips my cock in her hand.
“Turn around,” I instruct her, and she turns so her back is against my chest as I kiss her neck. “Put your hands against the wall.” She lays her palms flat against the tile wall, the water falling on the middle of her back. “Now, spread your legs and lift your ass for me.” She doesn’t make me wait long, and when she does, I squat down a little, grabbing my cock in my hand. “That’s my good girl,” I praise right before I push my legs up and slam my cock into her.
She comes three times before I come again. This time, it’s not inside her. Nope, my girl drops to her knees when I tell her I’m close, and she swallows all of me. I’m slipping on the hotel robe when I hear a knock on the door as she walks out behind me. “I’ll get it,” I say, walking to the door and letting the room service guy in. He wheels in the cart. “I’ll put it outside when we’re done,” I tell him, and he nods, turning and walking out.
“Where do you want to eat?” Zoey asks me once I wheel the cart into the bedroom, standing here wearing a matching robe.
“The only reason I ordered this was to get you back into bed,” I tell her, and she gets on the bed. I grab the big tray in the middle of the cart and put it in the center of the bed. “I got you stuff for your taco shit.”
She shakes her head and laughs. “Don’t you even try to pretend you don’t like it. You ate two yesterday.”
Her skin looks sun-kissed, and her freckles are even darker than they were before, and every single day I have to pinch myself. I watch her make a taco and then hand me the plate. “Here, don’t say your wife never made you breakfast.” She smiles big, and I laugh. “We need to talk about things.”
“I have never been married before,” I start, reaching for the plate, “but I think it’s never a good thing when your wife says we need to talk about things.” Holding the pancake close, I take a bite. I’ve never had this before her, but I have to say, I will never eat pancakes any other way again.
“You might be right on that.” She fixes her own plate, folding one foot while she stretches the other one out.
“Before we start,” I say, holding up my hand, “happy anniversary.” I smile at her. “I got you a gift, and it’s waiting for you at home.”
“Anniversary?” she asks.
“We’ve been married one week.” I hold up my hand.
“Oh,” she replies, not sure what to say. “Um, happy anniversary,” she mumbles.
“Now, what did you want to talk about?” I ask nervously.
“I know I said I would give you ninety days,” she says, and I drop my plate, the food that’s in my mouth suddenly tasting like shit. “And I will,” she quickly adds, “but where are we going to live?”
“I have a house.” I don’t know why I have to tell her this. “So we are going to live in my house.”
“But I live in New York,” she retorts. “Like, my house is in New York. My things are there in the house.”
“Yeah, I assumed that when you said you live in New York.” I wink at her, earning me a sneer. “Can I ask you something?” I take another bite of the taco. “Why do you call New York home?”
“What?” she asks, not sure of my question.
“Why is New York your home? Besides the fact you have a house there with things in it.”
“I don’t know. It’s just home. I’ve always lived in New York.”
“You grew up in Long Island,” I point out.
“Yes, but I went to school in the city. It’s my home.” She motions with her hands going around in a circle.
“But what I’m saying is, there isn’t anything but your things in your house that keeps you there. Your office is there, but your office is in your home, correct?”
“Correct.”
“And you have no children that I know of.” She just stares at me. “So, technically, you can move into my home.”
“I can’t move to LA,” she gasps.
“Why not? It’s almost like New York. Overpopulated, traffic is horrible, and they have matcha at every single corner.” I grin. “It’s not like I live in Fargo. It’s LA.”
“Yes, but—” she says.
“Okay, how is this?” I look at her. “Move in with me for a month, and if you don’t like it, I’ll see about moving to the New York office.”
“That’s…” She shakes her head. “That’s crazy.”
“It’s the only solution to this talk, so if you don’t like LA, I’ll see about switching. If that can’t happen, I’ll commute.”
“You’ll commute from New York to LA?” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you work in Manhattan, and we live in Brooklyn. It’s a six-hour flight.”
“Zoey.” I take a deep inhale. “If I have to do it, I’ll do it. I won’t like not being with you, and maybe you can come with me a couple of times.”
“You would fucking do that?” she questions, astounded. “Just like that, you would move to New York or commute?”
“Um, yeah,” I reply, not even sure it’s possible but knowing I’ll do what I need to do for my wife. If that’s either me switching offices or me fucking commuting, then that is what I’ll have to do. We may have only been together for one week, but it’s just cemented that she’s the one for me. And I’ll do what I need to do to make her happy. “You’re my wife. Happy wife, happy life.”