Chapter 30
Riley
Spencer is down on one knee, those big puppy eyes looking up at me.
My chest tightens.
I could—
I’m choking on my last breath before I clear my throat with a half moan.
“No. No, no, no, no, Spence. Get up.”
Big blue eyes search my face before his hands slide over my thighs. “I would marry you in a heartbeat, Riles, so you know. But this isn’t that.”
He winks at me.
Heat scorches my neck and face.
Riley, you goddamn eejit.
The need to hide my stupid face with my hands has never been so overwhelming, but I’m too stunned to move.
He parts my thighs and dips his head before sending his tongue through my center. A girl has never been happier to have a man’s tongue occupied than I am right now.
We don’t say those three words, let alone the four that follow after.
Will you marry me is not exactly what I expected to hear when I planned my twelve-month college stay. And my final exams are just around the corner. Chlo is counting down the days until I come home. So I don’t need to hear them now.
My palms flatten against the door as he sweeps around my clit and bliss follows. That seems to be a theme with Spence—wherever he goes, bliss follows. At least for me.
I guess I’ll miss this part when I’m home.
I push back the thought and let his tongue carry me away on the ethereal plane it creates. I’m a trembling mess by the time he stands, and I’m still shy of an orgasm.
“Bath time, remember.” The shit-eating grin on his face, covered with my slick, is insane.
I roll my eyes at him.
Rough hands haul me over his shoulder as a hand slaps my ass.
“Oh! Don’t you dare.”
“Baby, I so fucking dare.”
He leans over and runs the water. My hands explore his toned ass while he runs his hand up the inside of my thigh.
The water is over half when he hauls me back onto his hips. “Behave, Riles. Or you will end up over my lap yet.”
I huff an indignant sound and nip his jawline before tracking tiny playful bites down his neck. My efforts earn a low, guttural growl. So, I’m taken aback when he releases me to the bathtub.
The water is hot. Deliciously so.
“You coming in?” I ask as I sink into the heat.
“Uh-huh.” He’s stripping his clothes from his back as I lie back in the water. “But first, I need to see you sink those pretty little fingers into that pussy.”
“Absolutely not.” I sit up, my nipples hardening.
“Oh well. I’ll keep that orgasm you were chasing to myself.”
My brows drop.
Fine.
Fine, bossy, gorgeous man.
I spread my legs and send a hand to my center, and his brows flick up. I’m slick. My clit throbs back to life.
Oh god.
Heat floods my body.
Having Spence watching . . . does something to me.
I sink two fingers into my core, and my back leaves the end of the tub.
“Fuck, Riles,” he growls.
My eyes open at his low tone.
When did they close?
He’s leaning over the bath, fingers trailing through the surface of the water. He’s naked. His blue eyes are dark and stuck on my face.
“Keep going, baby.”
“I-I don’t want to,” I rasp.
His head tilts.
“I want you to fill me up.” I reach for his jawline.
He’s scrambling over the side of the tub, splashing water everywhere as our mouths clash.
I chuckle as he slips and rights himself between my legs. That chuckle disintegrates into a yawn.
“Tired, my girl?” Spence utters.
“Mhmmm.”
“Then we wash and fuck at the same time.”
“How the—”
He’s squirting body wash into one palm, his hand then raising my leg from the water. He’s lathering my leg up, moving closer to my center as he goes. Finishing one, he does the other before soaping up my arms and chest.
Washing off the suds from my limbs and chest, he dips his head and suckles my hard nipple. The moan that slips through my lips echoes around the small bathroom.
“Christ. Those little sounds of yours are going to be the death of this man.”
“I’d rather not feck you to death, Spencer.”
I tug my bottom lip through my teeth as his hands grip my hips, raising me as he nudges my entrance with his cock.
I slide my arms over the side of the tub.
“No Riles, you brought me back to life. There’s no dead man here.” He slams in, up to the hilt.
“Oh feck!” I whimper as I adjust around his girth. He’s big. He’s damn perfect. And I think he may have very well ruined me for anyone else, the way he claims I did for him.
My legs tremble as my grip whitens on the edge of the tub.
We’re both fecked.
Ghosting his thumb over my clit, he pulls out.
“We fit so well,” he growls, thrusting in again. He picks up the motion, and I’m done for.
“God, Spence. Please,” I whine, back arching, hips rocking into his rhythm.
“Slow down,” he grunts out.
I can’t . . .
“That’s it. You’re not listening, O’Malley.” He pulls out and flips me over somewhat awkwardly in the tub.
I’m on my knees when he gathers my hair in his hands.
I hear the squirt of the shampoo, and I look over my shoulder. “Spencer,” I chastise.
“Making you wait.” He waves at me to turn back around.
I huff out an annoyed sound.
He chuckles as his hands massage shampoo into my long locks. Tugged playfully by my hair, I rise, my back meeting his chest. His fingers work my scalp over. Honestly, I don’t know what’s better, his cock or his hair-washing game.
Can I have both at the same time?
I wriggle into him, and he growls at me.
“So impatient, sweet girl.”
“You made me this way . . .”
He chuckles.
“Go on, Riles.” His hips thrust, his hard length pressing into my ass cheeks. I guide him to my entrance, and he thrusts in as his hands tighten in my hair. “Ah, fuck.”
“Don’t stop, Spence. Wash my hair, cowboy.”
He nips my neck before he rasps, “Yes ma’am.”
His hands work my hair into a lather before his grip is trapped and his rhythm picks up pace.
“Play with that pretty little clit. Then milk my fucking cock.”
When I don’t move, half out of it with pleasure, he growls, “Now, Riley.”
I slide a hand into the water and down to my throbbing, swollen nub. The first tentative pass over it is almost too much.
“Feel how good we are together?” Spencer rasps.
My fingers wander to where his thick length stretches me.
“Answer me,” he growls.
I glance over my shoulder. “Yes. I feel how good we are together, Spence. I promise, I do.”
His face turns hard with my last two words.
“Good.” He pulls out and releases his grip on my hair. “Wash your hair out. Bedtime.”
My mouth is still hanging slack when he steps out of the bath and walks from the bathroom.
Talk about leaving a woman in agony.
I’m tempted to finish myself.
But pure indignation refuses to give in. I turn and lay in the bath, working the soap from my hair. Once I’m suds-free, I pad to the bedroom. The lights are out. The small night-light on Ivy’s side shines an amber hue over the room.
Spencer sits on the bed. On top of the covers.
His hand pumps his cock.
I stop at the end of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I say, my tone harsh.
“Waiting for you to come to me. I’m done chasing you, Riles. This thing is starting to feel one-sided.”
“And you got all that from washing my hair?”
Why are we always arguing?
Maybe I should look into that. I mean, if Spence can go to therapy . . . Maybe I should consider it.
“Among other moments,” he says, eyes locked on my own.
Fine.
He wants me to come to him.
To show him how much I want this—
I drop to my knees on the end of the bed.
He’s pointing down.
What the?
“Crawl, Riles. Show me how much you’re mine.”
“I—”
“Now, O’Malley,” he says in a guttural tone so low it sinks straight into my bones.
Right.
Crawl.
But this is Spence.
The man who has housed me. Fed me. Made me family when I had none to count on.
The man who, up until now, has been golden-retriever obsessive. If he needs this . . .
I drop to all fours and dip my spine a little so my ass perks up. My breasts swing, heavy and almost painful at the hardened peaks.
I do want this.
I do want him.
I just have no idea how we could ever make this work after my twelve months are up.
Pushing the thought down, I crawl. Slowly.
He’s pumping his cock with a string of heady groans by the time I work my way between his legs and straddle his lap.
“Hey,” I breathe around the stone in my throat.
“Hey, baby,” he pants.
A soft, satisfied smile stretches my lips. He can get as bossy as he wants, but he still needs this more than his ego can tamp back.
“You good, Spence? Feeling wanted now?”
“F-fu—” His head lowers, lips closing over my nipple.
I whimper, the last breath crashing out.
I’m delusional. I want—no, need this as much as he does.
“Riles, I’m dying here. I’ve met the pavement, and I can’t peel my shattered body off it.” His throat bobs.
Emotion closes my throat over. “I know.”
I guide his hand from his cock and rise on my knees. Lining him up with my entrance, I work my way down his hard length as his face falls apart.
Oh, Spence. My heart squeezes in my chest.
“Baby,” I say, palming his face. “Look at how good we go together.”
I bottom out, and his hands snap to my hips.
His head falls backward as his eyes close.
I take up a rhythm with a deep need to make him feel as good as he makes me feel. Every. Time.
A glimmer of what could be filters through my mind as I rise, hands planting on his shoulders.
He moves his head, eyes opening to meet my gaze, and my hands slide into his hair at the base of his neck.
God, I need more. I can’t get close enough . . .
His rough grip starts to raise me and slam me back down. I grind over him on every downstroke as he thrusts up hard.
Sweat coats my skin with a sheen that glows in the amber light of the room.
“Mouth, Spence . . .” The words are threadbare, but he knows what I need as his lips close over my nipple, his teeth skating over the sensitive peak.
Bliss swells in my core.
Spencer’s thrusts turn sloppy as he mutters something I can’t make out. Blue eyes hold my own as I crash down around him, wave after wave tightening my body around his.
“Fuck, baby. Come for me, Riles.”
I implode.
“F-feck . . . Spe—” The syllables are hijacked by a whimpering cry as I meet his thrusts with my own rhythm.
As my release fades, my chest tightens.
I didn’t want this to end.
I don’t.