Her Pucking Forbidden Mate

Chapter One Dreary London Rain

HADLEY

The heavy bass of the reception music throbs against my ribs. The sound is strangely muffled, as if I’m underwater.

Rylee and Zander are dancing together in the middle of the dance floor, looking so happy and in love. My heart clenches at the sight. Everyone is dancing. A blur of spinning silk dresses and dark tailored suits. My focus is locked entirely on Julian.

He’s standing just outside the perimeter of the party. His massive frame cuts a devastating silhouette against the resort setting around us. He’s wearing his sharp black suit. The collar of his white shirt is unbuttoned just enough to expose the thick base of his throat.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks my way, then grins.

My breath catches in my throat. My heart races.

To my shock, he raises his hand and crooks a finger at me.

Beckoning me to him. As if I’m floating, I move toward him.

The crowd around us starts to blur. All I can see is him.

He reaches out to me, taking my hand in his.

“What were you doing all the way over there?” he murmurs, drawing me in until I’m pressed against his chest. “You belong right here, in my arms.”

Why is he saying these things? We’re friends. Just friends. And yet, a thrill rushes through me at the feel of his huge body wrapping around me.

“Julian, what are you doing?” I whisper when he presses his lips to the side of my throat.

“Come with me,” he growls.

Suddenly, we’re not at the reception anymore. We’re in my hotel room. I blink, confused. Wait, how did we…?

Julian smiles down at me. “I’ve been wanting to get you alone all night.”

He has? I didn’t think he felt that way about me. My mind is struggling to keep up with what’s happening. I’m so confused. This situation is all wrong. Yet there’s a part of me that thinks it feels so, so right.

“Julian,” I breathe, my voice sounding tight. I’m not sure what I’m pleading with him for, exactly, but he seems to know without me needing to say another word.

His large hand comes up, long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of my neck, tilting my face up.

When his mouth locks onto mine, it is with a possessive, unyielding hunger that steals the breath from my lungs.

I let out a soft, muffled gasp against his lips.

He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue deep into my mouth, claiming me in a way that makes my knees turn to water.

Before I can fully process what he’s doing, his hands slide down to my hips.

His grip is firm enough to bruise as he hoists my weight against the solid wood of the door.

The sudden shift makes my head spin. I wrap my legs around his waist. My inner thighs grip him while my fingers claw through the fabric of his shirt, seeking the dense, rugged muscles of his back.

He doesn't break the kiss as he carries me toward the bed. The mattress catches us in a clumsy collision of limbs. Another blink, and we’re suddenly naked, and I have no explanation as to how.

Not that I really care at this point. My hands map the rugged topography of his chest. The thick ridges of his abs and his wide, solid chest. The friction of his calloused hands sliding down the sensitive skin of my ribs makes me arch up into his chest, a soft whimper escaping my throat.

He captures my wrists with one hand, pinning them against the pillows above my head.

It’s an aggressive tenderness that leaves me completely exposed to him, completely safe under his immense strength.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his breath ragged and hot against my skin.

A low, animalistic groan vibrates into my collarbone.

“You’re going to scream my name tonight,” he tells me, his voice rough.

Bringing one hand down, he slips his fingers between my legs and brushes them along my hot folds.

I gasp, arching my back as pleasure pulses through me.

He kisses my throat as he fingers me, his movements growing more demanding with each second.

I thrash my head back and forth as I moan, totally lost to the sensations pulsing through me.

I’ve never felt anything like this before…

it’s so much…my core is hot and desperate and wants more.

“Julian, please,” I beg, wanting something I never thought I’d get from him. I want him inside me. I want him to claim me and fill me. I want him to ruin me for other men.

“You’re mine, Hadley,” he growls as he lines himself up between my legs. “All mine. Isn’t that right?”

I nod and whimper, “That’s right. I’m all yours”

His hips surge forth, seeking my hot and eager entrance.

When he pushes inside me, I let out a cry of pleasure.

There’s no pain. I always thought my first time would hurt, but of course it wouldn’t with Julian.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and cling to him as he pumps into me.

My vagina is throbbing, clenching around him, desperate to keep him.

“So fucking good,” he snarls in my ear, making me moan. “You’re perfect, Hadley. I’m going to cum so hard, and you’re going to take every last drop of me.”

“Oh, God!” I cry. My core is tightening, and with each thrust, Julian pushes me closer and closer to the edge of a cliff.

I know once I topple over it, there will be no going back.

I’ll be lost to him entirely, and I’m more than fine with that.

I want to be his, more than I want anything else in the world.

“Cum for me, Hadley,” he orders. “Be a good girl and cum for me hard.”

“I’m so close, Julian,” I reply, breathless. “Almost there…just a bit more…”

“Cum for me now,” he snaps, and as if my body were just waiting for his permission, I go toppling over the edge…

My eyes shoot open. I sit up with a gasp, my heart pounding and my body trembling with the remnants of my dream.

I’m throbbing between my legs, my pussy still spasming from the near orgasm that slipped from my grasp the moment my eyes opened.

It takes me a moment to realize that I’m not back in Nashville, and sitting at my desk in my dorm. Shit, did I fall asleep?

The glowing screen of my open laptop illuminates a page of my pre-law syllabus that I’d been staring at for three hours without actually reading a single word.

Next to it, perched on the wide sill of my tall window, sits Principles of Corporate Finance and the Law.

It’s a massive, leather-bound monster of a textbook, its pages pristine and unbothered by the damp London breeze drifting into my flat.

Damn it. It’s not the first time my studies have bored me into a light coma. It’s also not the first time I’ve dreamed about Julian.

Ugh, no! I can’t think about him like that! Needing a distraction, I grab my phone and decide to FaceTime my best friend Lainey. She answers right away, her blond hair tossed into a messy bun, her expression one of pure, unadulterated mischief.

She quickly proves not to be the distraction I was hoping for.

“I’m just saying, Haddie, if a man with shoulders that wide looks at you like he wants to slide you across a kitchen counter, don’t ask questions. You just climb him like a tree.”

I choke on my breath, a violent blush flaring hot and fast across my cheeks. I lean forward on my desk, putting my face directly in front of the camera, trying to use my posture to quiet her down. “Lainey! Oh my god, keep your voice down.”

“We are on a FaceTime call across an entire ocean, you absolute prude. Nobody in England can hear me,” Lainey cackles, her face leaning so close to her camera that her forehead is cut off by the top of the frame.

She waves a hand dismissively. “Keep that attitude up, and you’ll stay a virgin forever.

Seriously, I’m looking at a picture of your big man right now.

Holy fuck, I don’t know how you haven’t ridden that beard like a bucking bronco… ”

Click-clack.

A sharp tone cuts through Lainey’s graphic description. The video feed of her laughing face pauses, freezing her mid-gasp. The incoming call banner drops down from the top of the screen, flashing in bold black text.

Dad.

My stomach drops straight out of my ass. Panic spikes through my veins. At the same microsecond, Lainey’s frozen video is practically screaming her last sentence at me in my mind.

“...ridden that beard like a bucking bronco…”

“Lainey, hold on! My dad is calling!” I fumble with the phone.

In my frantic haste to silence the call before her highly descriptive vocabulary somehow bleeds through the airwaves or connects, my thumb smashes against the green button to accept my dad's audio call.

I switch lines, praying to whatever god handles transatlantic cellular signals that FaceTime actually muted her and that I didn't just accidentally initiate some horrifying video-merge.

“Dad?” I squeak, my voice jumping a full octave. My heart is hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Please let her be on hold. Please don't let him hear anything.

“Hadley, sweetie.” My father’s voice is crisp and perfectly modulated. It’s the exact tone he uses right before dismantling a rival sports agency in a contract dispute.

Oh, shit. Business mode. Which means I’m about to be told to do something I absolutely do not want to do.

“I just got off the phone with your academic advisor,” he continues.

“Oh.” I lean back in my desk chair, staring out at the rainy August afternoon and forcing my voice to stay neutral. “Is... is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. I was just reviewing your final fall schedule.

However, he noted that you've enrolled in an introductory course on childhood literacy and curriculum development. What’s going on with that?

Your pre-law track is already grueling enough without wasting elective credits on an education class you don't need. I need you focused on corporate law, not playing teacher.”