Chapter 13 Not A Sound #2
The smirk playing on his lips told me he was enjoying this power play far too much. Two could play that game.
“Fine. But the same goes for you, Gable.” I reached between us, palming him through his pants. “One groan and I walk.”
The surprise in his eyes was worth it, quickly replaced by something darker. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if you can walk in a straight line.”
His demanding mouth crashed into mine. I reached for his belt, but he caught my wrists, pinning them above my head with one large hand.
“I play first,” he whispered, voice rough.
My retort dissolved into a silent gasp as his free hand slipped beneath my underwear. His eyes never left mine, watching every reaction flicker across my face as his fingers explored.
“Remember,” he whispered, “not a sound.”
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting every instinct to moan as his thumb circled my clit. Shit, I was already soaking wet. His satisfied expression told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“You’re not playing fair,” I whispered, voice strained. “You can’t go straight for the clit.”
“Never said I would play fair.” He slid a finger through my folds before slipping it inside.
God, I was going to lose this game. Shit, I was definitely going to lose this game as a second one joined the first. His fingers curled inside me, and I had to clamp my teeth on my lower lip to stay silent.
“You’re already struggling, and we’ve barely started. ”
He was damn right. My breathing came in short, desperate pants, each exhale threatening to turn into a sound that would end this game before it really began.
A knock at the door froze us both.
“Ms. Landry? Mr. Gable?” Penelope’s voice came through the wood. “Are you in there? The string quartet has arrived.”
Hudson’s hand remained exactly where it was, his eyes locked with mine in silent challenge.
His fingers moved slightly, and my eyes widened in warning.
His palm ground against my clit, and I had to close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the wall as I tried to focus on anything but Hudson’s fingers.
“We’ll be right out,” he called, voice impressively steady despite the bulge straining against his zipper. “Just finalizing the processional order.”
“Of course. They’re setting up in the garden when you’re ready.”
Footsteps retreated. I released the breath I’d apparently been clinging to.
“That was close,” I whispered.
“Too close?” he asked, giving me an out.
In answer, I freed one hand from his grip and reached for his belt again. This time, he let me.
“Lock the door,” I ordered.
A flash of approval crossed his face. He stepped away just long enough to turn the lock, then returned, spinning me to face the wall.
“Hands flat,” he instructed, pressing my palms against the cool surface. “Don’t move them.”
The rustle of his belt and zipper behind me sent anticipation spiraling through my body. Something crinkled, and I bit my lip with a wide grin.
“I can’t believe you expected this to happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“You brought a damn condom,” I hissed.
Hudson’s low chuckle vibrated through me. “I brought more than one.” His hands gripped my hips, readjusting the skirt of my dress, fingers digging into flesh as he positioned me exactly where he wanted. The heat of his hardness pressed against me.
“Remember,” his breath was hot against my ear, “not a sound.”
I nodded, pretty sure my ability to make sentences was malfunctioning.
When he pushed inside me, the sensation was so overwhelming I nearly cried out. His hand clamped over my mouth just in time, muffling the betraying sound.
“I knew you couldn’t do it,” he murmured, sounding amused and aroused in equal measure. “My hand stays here until we’re done. Nod if you understand.”
I nodded against his palm, too far gone to care about losing our little game. His other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me steady as he established a rhythm that made my knees threaten to buckle.
His mouth grazed my neck, teeth scraping gently as he moved. Every thrust pushed me closer to the edge; every breath against my skin heightened the sensation. I was grateful for his hand now, for the solid wall supporting my weight, for the possessive grip keeping me upright.
Another knock, more insistent this time. Hudson froze.
“Yes?” he called, voice more hoarse than before, yet somehow still very composed for someone mid-thrust.
“Sorry to interrupt again,” Penelope sounded apologetic, “but the mother of the groom is asking about the processional music.”
“Tell her we’ll be there in five minutes,” Hudson replied, not missing a beat. “We’re just wrapping up here.”
A muffled “Thank you” and retreating footsteps.
“Five minutes,” he whispered in my ear, resuming his movements with new urgency. “Think you can finish in five minutes, sweetheart?”
I nodded frantically against his hand, my body already racing toward release.
“Good girl.” He was toying with me, the bastard. Slowing down when he knew I was close, speeding up just as I was calming down. Teasing me with light bites along my shoulder, knowing it would drive me wild.
I whimpered, desperate to meet his thrusts, my hands itching to hold on to something, but I kept them locked on the wall.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot on my neck. “Stay still.”
His lips curved into a smile against my skin. Damn, he was enjoying this. To be fair, I was too. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place as he moved harder, faster.
“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Want me to fuck you hard against the wall?”
I moaned into his hand, and the action only seemed to encourage him.
“Sh.” He slapped my ass. I yelped, the sound caught by his firm grasp on my mouth.
I pressed my forehead to the wall, willing myself to stay quiet.
He thrust deeper, a low groan torn from his throat. “Fuck, you’re so wet, Mari.”
I nearly lost it then, the pleasure coiling tight in my core. I squeezed my eyes shut, grinding my teeth to keep from crying out.
His fingers tightened on my hips, his breathing uneven. “Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and let go.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. The praise pushed me over the edge, pleasure crashing through me. His hand pressed harder against my mouth as I shuddered silently in his arms. My body shook against the wall as he kept thrusting, riding out my orgasm.
Finally, he let out a low growl, his fingers biting into my skin as he came, his lips clamping down on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a moment, catching our breath, his body still buried inside mine.
Hudson stepped back first. “Stay there.”
Boneless and worried about falling over on shaky legs, I obeyed.
He disappeared behind me, and a moment later, he came back with a wet wipe.
I took it, thanking him as I cleaned myself up.
He helped straighten my dress, pressing kisses on me every couple of seconds.
When we’d finished straightening ourselves, only the flush on our cheeks and the slight disarray of our hair betrayed what we’d just done.
“One minute to spare,” he noted, glancing at his watch. “Impressive.”
I laughed, slipping my feet back into my heels. “I told you I could be quiet.”
He shot me a look. “They probably heard you all the way in China.”
“Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes as I stepped toward the door, but I turned back. “I’ve been thinking about us. About what we’re doing.”
His expression sobered. “What about it?”
“I enjoy working with you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “We make a good team.”
“We do.”
“And I was wondering if maybe... if you might want to make it official.” I took a deep breath. “The partnership, I mean.”
He stared at me, and for a moment I couldn’t read his expression.
“You want to be business partners?” he finally asked.
“Maybe. Yes. I mean, we already are, kind of. But I was thinking about something more... permanent. I don’t know what it would look like exactly, but it might work.
” The words were tumbling out now, faster than I could control them.
“I’ve been working on the app I showed you.
And I think with your experience and my creative vision, we could really make it work. We could build something together.”
There. It was out. My baby, my dream, the thing I’d been protecting and nurturing for years—I’d just offered to share it with Hudson Gable, a man I’d hated over six months ago.
“What about Knot Your Average Wedding?”
Well, at least he didn’t laugh in my face. “Like I said, I don’t have all the details figured out yet, and I haven’t talked to Anica. But—”
He cut me off before I could swallow my aching feet. “We should talk about this after the wedding.”
Had I misread everything? Gone too fast, asked for too much?
But Hudson smiled, and the relief that flooded through me was almost as dizzying as the orgasm he’d just blessed me with.
“I’d like to talk about it,” he whispered. “I’d like it a lot.”
Before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door.
“Ms. Landry? Mr. Gable?” It was Penelope. Again.
Back to reality. Back to the wedding.