Chapter 8
8
Emily
W e spent most of Saturday night doing more of the same and Sunday morning recovering. Well, I tried to recover.
Every time I stirred awake, I found Fletcher awake, head propped on one hand, watching me sleep. My query as to whether he’d slept was answered with a shrug, a heated stare and a, “I’m not tired. Can I fuck you again?”
My answer, of course, was always yes, please.
The man had the stamina of a Greek god, a menu of sexual techniques that had me gasping and clinging on for dear life by the time he was done with me.
And so it went until I fell into a stupor mid-afternoon.
This time when I woke up, Fletcher wasn’t beside me. But he wasn’t far.
Sprawled gloriously, unabashedly naked on the high-backed chair in his bedroom, he was reading a thick manual, the golden sunlight highlighting his bronzed perfection.
But that wasn’t what made my breath catch. Well, not the primary reason.
It was the stern-looking, black-rimmed glasses that, illogically, made him even hotter.
His head snapped up when I moved, one finger marking his place as he closed the book.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I murmured, his avid scrutiny making my skin heat all over again.
I was beginning to wonder whether I would ever get used to Fletcher’s singular focus when it came to how he watched me. Not that I was complaining.
He plucked off the glasses with his free hand and smiled. “I don’t usually but sometimes eyestrain is a bitch I have to endure. How do you feel?”
I stretched and slid out of bed.
Fletcher’s eyes caught fire as I padded over to him butt naked. When he eagerly patted his thigh, I settled in place, my arms draping around his neck.
“I feel great. Very rested.” Not entirely true.
My internal muscles were hella sore and the last few orgasms had bordered on painful, all but wrecking me. But no way was I denying myself a chance to close to Fletcher. That was what aloe vera and warm baths were for.
Besides, Monday was racing toward us at warp speed. There were several cases that needed Fletcher’s attention and after taking the rare day and a half off, I doubted he would come up for air the second he stepped into his office. I had to take my chances where I could.
“Are you’re in the mood to play, baby?”
My head bobbing, I kissed along his jaw and whispered in his ear, “I’ve always wanted to act out a stern professor, naughty student fantasy.”
His breath hissed out and his cock twitched. “Fuck, Emily.”
The book he was holding tumbled to the floor and I saw the cover.
“Is that…are you reading the firm’s HR manual?”
“Hmm. I want to head off any bullshit coming our way about our relationship.”
Delight and love soared in my heart. “And if you can’t?”
“Then I have a very smart paralegal who will help me redraft the guidelines to suit me.”
I smiled. “Spoken like the awesome, arrogant maverick attorney you are. But I could’ve saved you the trouble if you’d asked me.”
His eyebrows rose before his eyes rushed all over my naked body. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I memorized it back to front in case I ever had the opportunity to coax you into my wicked web.”
His face split into a smile that made my heart race faster. “No coaxing necessary, my love. I was yours at first sight,” he stated gruffly.
Tears prickled the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away and moved in when he gripped the back of my head and urged me into a long, sultry kiss.
When we came up for air, his eyes were hooded and that feral look that I loved was back in place.
“Before we get carried away, tell me what you know,” he said.
“To quote the manual, ‘inter-firm relationships are strictly prohibited especially between higher and lower levels of staff. Exceptions will be made under very rigorous circumstances, such as with irrefutable proof of when such a relationship commenced, and on the understanding that neither member of staff involved in the relationship will bring a suit either against the other or against the firm upon the conclusion of said relationship. Any attempt to do so will result in an immediate countersuit and termination of both employees.’”
Fletcher dragged me deeper onto his lap and shuffled to the edge of the seat. Eyes pinned on me, he impaled me onto his cock.
We both gasped at the sublime sensation.
“Did you remember that verbatim?” he enquired huskily as he pulled me back and forth, back and forth, over his cock.
I gasped again when his crown brushed a particularly sensitized spot that made me see stars. “Pretty much.”
“Fuck, I love your brain.” He bounced me over his dick for several minutes, then pinned me still. I whimpered and pouted, but he didn’t move. “And what does it say about couples who’re married?”
My brain wanted to splinter with the pleasure rushing through me, but I forced myself to think. To remember. “Nothing much. Only about if their relationship breaks down. Then they’re o-o-obligated to use outside counsel to represent them to prevent conflict of interest issues.” I stretched my hands behind me, planted them on his knees and attempted to fuck myself on his dick.
He countered my cheekiness by pinching my clit. Hard .
“Stop that. We’re not done talking.”
I moaned in frustration, then squeezed my muscles until he hissed and cursed.
“Emily,” he warned.
I relaxed, barely, and he released the pinch.
After a few labored breaths he said, “Well, that’s irrelevant to us because we’re never breaking up. I would say I’ll die before I let you go, but even after death I’m keeping you. You’re mine in this life and how many afterlives we’re granted.” He thrust hard into me as if ramming his words home, and my breath was snatched clean from my lungs.
“God, when you say things like that, I?—”
“Gush like a faucet around my cock? I know. I felt that.”
I slapped his shoulder weakly. “No, I…I was going to say I love you more.”
“Nothing’s stopping you from doing both, Emily Knight.” His laugh was a little strained. “I see I made you wetter.”
“I can’t help it,” I wailed, my eyes locked on his, unable to look away as I confessed, “I’ve called myself Emily Knight only in my dreams. To hear you say it… You’re making my dreams come true, Fletcher,” I cried, overcome with so much love.
His eyes turned black and his grip punishing on my hips. “Oh fuck. You know how to turn a guy inside out for you, don’t you?”
I shook my head. “Not any guy. You, Fletcher. Only you.”
Words fell away then. Only the sounds of our gasps, feral hisses and finally, ecstatic screams filled our private space as our pleasure hit its sublime zenith.
Our bodies were wonderfully sore and sweat-sheened when we caught our breaths.
My eyes remained shut as Fletcher rose and walked us back to bed, settled between my legs with his elbows up on either side of me.
I felt the force of his stare on my face for a moment before he shifted.
A second later, he captured my left hand in his. I smiled tiredly as he dropped a kiss on the back of my hand and on my knuckles.
I knew the look in his eyes would be feral and possessive on the ring he placed on my finger, and I let that wild, unhinged sensation move through me.
Would it be wild if I broke with tradition and used the rest of Grandpa’s inheritance to get him an engagement ring too? Let the thirsty women out there know he was now officially off-limits?
“I see that gorgeous brain working. What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I was thinking about getting you an engagement ring.” I opened my eyes to gauge his reaction. “Stake my own claim.”
A wide, pleased smile curved his lips. “And I would wear it, proudly. But since we’re getting married in a couple of weeks?—”
“What? A couple of weeks?”
His smile evaporated at my shrill tone. Then his eyes narrowed. “The next words out of your mouth better be something I want to hear, baby,” he warned silkily.
“I want to marry you, Fletcher. I really do.” He exhaled but remained alert, poised to cross-examine the hell out of my case. “But two weeks isn’t enough time. I mean, that’s how long it takes to get a license, isn’t it? And then there’s organizing things. We haven’t even told my parents. Or your fam?—”
His fingers brushing against my mouth shut me up.
“I have a contact at the courthouse who will expedite the license. Your parents are joining us for dinner tomorrow night. I intend to ask your father then. And I mean no disrespect but unless it’s a deal-breaker for you, it’s immaterial whether he gives us his blessing or not. I’m fucking marrying you in two weeks.
“I have a team on standby to help our moms get everything into gear. Yours can be as involved as she wants. I know mine will be thrilled to be given the task. She’s never forgiven me for getting hitched on a near-stranger’s porch on a drunken weekend the first time.”
I was secretly glad when his face didn’t spasm with bitterness when he referred to his first marriage this time.
Sure, it’d only been three days but already it felt like a distant memory. And since I was equally feral about anyone having a claim on my man, even via a past entanglement, I was thrilled when his heated gaze caught mine, free of pain and bitterness.
“What other objections do I need to bat away?” he demanded.
The thought that two weeks from now I would be Mrs. Fletcher Knight sparked emotional fireworks inside me. I was over my shock and smiling as I slid my arms around his neck. “None, Mr. Knight. None at all. Let’s do it.”
He exhaled noisily and I realized how much he’d tensed up with worry. It made me love him even more.
“Good. I fucking love you,” he growled against my mouth.
“You took the words right out of my mouth, Mr. Knight.”
“It’s Professor Knight. For the next hour at least. Understood, Miss Hartley?
Pure joy and filthy anticipation zipped through me. “Yes, sir.”
“Ready?”
The elevator doors opened on Monday morning, ready to spit us out.
But Fletcher waited, his eyes pinned on mine.
A few feet away, associates, interns and other staff members buzzed around, no clue that their managing partner and his paralegal were about to serve up salacious gossip on a silver platter.
I swallowed.
Here goes nothing.
There was zero evidence that we did anything wrong before Fletcher was officially divorced so people could say what they wanted.
His thumb caressed my cheek, stopped me from spiraling.
“Remember, what I said. If any fucking imbeciles look at you or say something out of line, you give me their names.”
The next couple of weeks would be challenging enough without attracting more negative attention. “I told you, Mr. Knight. I’m no snitch.”
“Emily—”
“I’m ready. And I’ll be fine.”
“No, we’ll be fine. We’re together now. Don’t make me remind you again.”
“No, sir,” I murmured, and his eyes flared with that feral light before he blew out a breath.
“The only problem I foresee today and every day from now is how the fuck I can keep my hands off you when we’re at work.” His fingers tightened around mine. “Come on,” he all but growled.
Somehow, we managed to make it almost to his office before our change in status was spotted.
It probably had something to do with Fletcher’s large, imposing body almost blocking out mine even though I was next to him. And also because most people were awed by his presence and saw nothing else.
But as we neared Lauren, his PA’s, desk, she looked up. Then eyes widening, she looked from our linked hands to our faces and back again a couple of times before a smile broke out on her face.
And since Fletcher didn’t stop after his brisk “good morning,” she was left to jump up from her desk and chase us into his office.
“Finally. About damn time,” she said.
“You knew?” I gasped.
“That you two were on fire for each other? Please. You both thought you were so good at hiding it but you can barely keep your eyes off each other. It was kinda hilarious. No offense, boss.” She half-smiled at Fletcher before her eyes darted back to our linked hands.
“I’ll let it slide this time, Lauren,” Fletcher said drily. “If you congratulate us properly, then go remind my HR director that I don’t appreciate tardiness.”
“I’m here, Mr. Knight,” a voice said from the door.
Fletcher turned, still holding my hand.
Allison Durant clocked it along with the rock on my finger and cleared her throat. “I think I know what this is about. Shall we get started, sir?”