Chapter 25
Trevor was overcome with the need to possess her. Telling her about the ring and dress had been the most difficult things he’d ever done, yet here she was, choosing to share herself with him even after she learned the truth.
He grabbed her hips and pressed against layers of fabric, finding the softness between her legs and grinding his hardening cock against her there.
She let out a gasp.
In his hands he held fistfuls of the wedding dress she’d bought to marry another man, and he had a desperate need to claim her as his own.
To prove her clothing held no power to keep them apart, that what they shared was stronger than fancy beads and lace or any promises that came before this moment.
He lifted his head and saw the arousal on her flushed face, then kissed down the side of her neck to her bodice, tracing its edge with his tongue.
Olivia murmured and reached down, arching her back as she pushed the fabric down to expose her lace-covered breasts.
The sight of her dark nipples inside the gossamer bra made him growl with need.
He had to taste her, had to feel her against his tongue, press his lips into the soft flesh of her breast. He took her into his mouth, suckling her through the garment.
She keened loudly, her hips bucking wildly against him.
He breathed against her there. “You’re so beautiful.”
She pushed the cups of her bra all the way down, exposing the nipple, wet and erect from his mouth. He took what she offered and latched firmly on to her skin, drawing her nipple deep into his mouth and sucking out a drop of her sweetness. She went wild.
He could feel his cock straining against his shorts, so anxious was he to be inside her.
Swooping down with one arm, he picked her up from behind her knees and carried her to the bed, the fullness of her skirt nearly reaching his face.
She hit the bed with a bounce and pulled him down on top of her.
“I need you inside me,” she said breathlessly.
Leaning away from her, he found the hem of her dress and began lifting the layers up over her waist until he bared her legs and tiny underwear. He could barely see her face, only her smooth, shapely legs and the junction that waited for him to enter, surrounded by layers and layers of tulle.
He ran his hands up her legs until he rested between them. He inhaled the scent of sex and knew he’d never smelled anything more arousing. He unfastened his belt and unzipped his fly, instantly growing even bigger, more eager, more excited.
“Roll over,” he commanded, and she did.
He found the top of the zipper on her dress and slid it down, over the small of her back and the top of her ass. Then he peeled it off of her, freeing her body from the confines of the fabric, and sliding off her underwear.
He rolled her back over, glorying in the sight of her completely naked. He was going to be inside her, stroking her most sensitive flesh, and he knew he’d never wanted anyone more. He sunk his fingers into her soft curls and found her opening dripping with dew, just as he was.
Had a woman ever been so eager for his touch? So desperate to be as close to him as he was to her?
“God, you are so lovely,” he said reverently. “And so ready for me.” He gently teased her clitoris and let his finger slip lower. “So sweet and wet.”
She thrust her hips forward, her sex pursuing his hand. “Please, Trevor!”
He slipped his fingers inside her and she bucked and moaned. He chuckled devilishly. “Is that what you want?”
“No.” She met his stare. “I want you inside me. I want you to be inside me when I come.”
The thought of her convulsing around his shaft overwhelmed him.
Moving quickly, he shucked off his pants and briefs and settled himself between her legs, loving the way she opened to him.
He kissed her, teasing her mouth with his tongue, and when she responded, he pressed inside her in one long thrust.
She yelped, her body going rigid.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No. Just give me a second.”
He felt her relax around him and clench him tightly, then relax again as she drew him in even deeper than before. The feeling was sweet torture, and he began to move inside her.
Her eyes flew open. “Don’t move,” she said, sliding up and down his cock in one tantalizing movement.
He began to pant. “You’re killing me.”
She smiled from half her mouth. “I’m just getting warmed up.” She arched her back, then pressed her hips forward, taking his whole length. “Now.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Trevor buried his face in her neck and began to move. Each thrust was better than the last, the pressure inside him building with every stroke. It didn’t matter who she was engaged to, he was going to explode.
He pulled out. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, and watched as she did as she was told, turning her ass toward him and arching her back so that its roundness and the crease between her swollen sex stood out.
He could have been a lion mounting his mate, so primal was his need to have her.
He entered her roughly and she called out loud.
He reached around her torso and grabbed a breast in each hand, squeezing her hard while he pumped into her from behind.
“I don’t care what you remember. You’ll always belong to me. ”
The sound she was making changed as her body clenched him tightly and she came fiercely around him, the spasms of her orgasm bringing on his own, bright and blinding. He came deep into her sweetness, retreating and thrusting again.
They stayed like that, fitted together, her body sucking at him as aftershocks rippled through her. There was just the sound of their breathing and the soft sounds of pleasure as they slowly came back to earth.
Trevor lifted himself off her back and took in the sight of his body still nestled in hers. This was right. Every touch, every movement, every sensation they shared. This was right, no matter who was waiting for her outside of this cabin.
“Trevor,” she said on a moan.
Olivia rested her elbows on the mattress and her ass tilted upward. In the faint light of the room, he caught the shadow of something down low on her left cheek.
A tattoo.
He narrowed his eyes and froze.
Brooke.
Brooke Barrons. The movie star. Olivia was so plain, so real, so naturally pretty, he never associated her with the overdone starlet.
But now the resemblance was both obvious and startling.
Everyone who stood in the checkout line at the grocery store knew about Brooke Barrons’ engagement.
She’d said several times on national television that she would not reveal the identity of her fiancé until the wedding was complete.
He traced the outline of the tattoo with his finger. “Livy?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I think you’re a movie star.”