Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Lane
As soon as Emerson kills the engine of her pickup, I yank open her door. I beat her home because Hillary wanted to give her a tour of her room. Lady waited while I paced through my anticipation.
Emerson jumps out and right into my arms. She buries her face in my neck. We got to smile and cheer our engagement, but I couldn’t do what I really wanted to with my wife in front of her family.
“Mrs. Foster, I have some unfinished business with you.”
“I’m all yours, Mr. Foster.” She kicks the door shut.
I carry her into the house and fling off my boots. She does the same with hers, and I go all the way back to my bedroom. Our bedroom.
I set her on the bed and crawl over her. “You need to find another pillow. My cock needs a hen.”
Her hair spreads around her head like a golden halo. “Consider it done.”
I sink into the cradle of her pelvis even more. My dick prods against her hot middle. There are way too many clothes between us. “And give up your apartment.”
“Already put in my notice.” She stuffs her hands into my hair and wraps her legs around me.
I pull back, but only slightly. “You did?”
She nods. “I regretted what I did as soon as I saw the papers, but I didn’t know what to do. I was going to burn them when you’re working this weekend.”
Her confession is an assurance I didn’t know I needed. I was ready to follow her to the ends of the earth, but her admission means I won’t have to.
“I like that idea.” I capture her mouth for a kiss and delve deep. She opens for me, stroking her tongue against mine and arching into me. There’s a looseness that hasn’t been there before. She’s completely relaxed. Fully pliant. She’s not going to hold anything back.
I almost lose myself in the moment, but I pop my head up. “The other night, after Haven and Prescott’s wedding—that’s what you were worried about?”
Worry creases her forehead. “I did it right before Denver. I thought I was being prudent.”
“You were. I don’t blame you. Draw them up again if you need to.” I kiss away the line across her brow. “We’ll burn those. And you can draw them up again and again and again. I won’t run out of matches.”
“Promise?”
The ragged edge to the word cuts right through to my beating heart. “You can help me light the fire.” An idea occurs to me. I get off her and tug her hand until she sits up.
Alarm lights her eyes. “What are you—”
I pull her close and hold her tight. “I’m going to bury myself so deep inside you, but we have to do something first.”
I tow her into the office and grab the papers. Her expression’s curious, but there’s still some concern lingering. I pull her with me to the kitchen and snag a bottle of peach-infused whiskey, Foster Nectar.
She’s more relaxed. Good.
I open the door and we step onto the porch, barefoot. Stopping at the grill for a moment, I hand her the bottle and papers and get my lighting kit. Then we go down the stairs and follow the pavers to the firepit I’ve almost never used.
“Have a seat, Em.”
She perches on the end of the Adirondack chair, hands on her knees. “You’re going to do it now?”
“Not just that.” I squat by the ring and get the fire going, then I hold my hand out.
She holds up the bottle in one hand and the envelope in the other, a brow cocked like she’s asking me which one to hand over. I narrow my eyes, loving her teasing and that we can do this. She grins and hands the papers over. I take them all out and toss the envelope in first.
“We should have marshmallows.” The flames glow in her eyes.
I put a knee down and half face her. “Later. Right now, I’m going to send each sheet to its destruction, and while they turn to ash, I’m going to be between your legs with my face in your pussy, and you’re going to watch them smolder.”
Her lips part, and the fire in her eyes grows stronger. “Yes,” she says with a whisper.
I finish doing exactly what I said, then I dust my hands off.
“Crawl to me.” She snaps her mouth shut like she’s shocked herself. The chair isn’t far away. “I like . . . I like you on your knees for me.”
She rushed into her dad’s old house, past her childhood fears, to explain herself to me. I bought a ring, and I proposed, but she needs to see me desperate. She knows I’m not walking out on her. She needs to know I’ll crawl after her.
My hands hit the cool pavers. We’re in the shadow of the house, and the trees block us from the back of her brother’s place on one side and from my brother’s place on the other.
I only have to crawl a few feet. The fire isn’t strong enough to kick off a lot of heat as the papers turn to ash. I don’t have to worry about her getting cold anyway. I’ll keep her warm if she needs it.
She’s watching me with wide eyes, her gaze lifting occasionally like she’s making sure the papers haven’t jumped out of the pit and reformed themselves.
When I reach her, I grip the edge of the chair. “I’ll crawl to wherever you are, but I’m going to make sure you never feel like you have to ask again.”
Her bright hazel eyes glitter, and she nods. This girl guts me. Since that first glimpse of her headshot, that gaze that holds back so much emotion, I’ve been hers. She carved me hollow and nestled inside my chest.
As if she knows where my thoughts are, she lays her hand over my heart. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
“You deserve the best. You always have. I’m gonna make sure you get that too.” I kiss her and pull her shorts down. She lifts her hips enough to let me slide them off.
Then I sink down and curl my arms under her thighs. “Watch them burn, Em. I’m going to make this sweet cunt mine.”
“It’s already yours. All of me.”
“Never hurts to do it over and over again.”
She moans and reclines, gripping the armrests. I claim her clit and she bucks against my face, letting out the most delicious cry. She’s soaking wet, like she’s been waiting for me as long as I’ve been waiting for her.
“Yes, Lane.”
I lick and suck. There’s too much urgency, like if she doesn’t come that means I’m not keeping my word. It’s just that I can’t get enough of her. I never thought I’d have this, and then after we were married, I didn’t know if I’d truly have her.
This proves that I have and I did.
She explodes against me, and I lap her up. Her thighs squeeze my head, and my air almost gets cut off, but what a fucking way to go. When her legs go limp, I lift my head. Her eyes are glazed and her chest is heaving.
“That was . . .” She looks around like she’s worried we woke up the neighborhood. “I’m one lucky wife.”
“Nah, Em. I’m the luckiest goddamn man in the world.” I stand and lift her in my arms, turn, and set her on top of me.
She rips at the fly of my jeans, and when her hand wraps around my cock, my vision crosses. “Fuck, Em. If that doesn’t prove how much you own me, I don’t know what does.”
She laughs softly and kisses the corner of my mouth. “We possess each other, and I have the ring to prove it.”
As she climbs onto me, I try not to rush her. There’s some primal drive inside me that needs to mark my woman. The rough edges of my childhood have been polished, but Emerson roughens up the right parts. I need to spill inside her.
With one last look at the tepid fire, she sinks down. My groan carries on the air, and I take over. She’s on top, but I’m in charge.
I coax her to a fast pace before slipping my hands under her shirt and up her back. “Ride me hard, Emerson.”
She anchors herself on the back of the chair, and her hair drapes around us. “Do you need to come, husband?”
“Yes.”
She stops, her tight cunt squeezing the tip of my cock. “How bad?”
A guttural sound leaves me, as if I’m in pain. I’m not in charge after all. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She drops, but only an inch. “I feel like the most powerful woman in the world right now.” She lifts herself.
A tremor runs through me. I want to take over, but she needs this. She felt too powerless earlier, and I promised I’d give her everything she needs. I might expire from the buildup of pleasure clogging my veins, but if this is the way I go, I’ve lived a good life.
Staying in the excruciating and teasing position she’s in, she reaches down for the bottle of whiskey. She holds my gaze while she opens it and takes a drink, but she doesn’t swallow.
My dick twitches, but she’s not moving. I take the bottle, tip it, and welcome the burn. Then I put it down next to the chair, holding the liquid in my mouth.
She tips forward and places her mouth against mine. We open at the same time, warm whiskey flowing between us. She still doesn’t move those infuriating hips.
A dribble sneaks out the side of my mouth. She catches it with her tongue and licks back into my mouth. “Mm. Strong and full of character. Just like you.”
“Emerson, if you don’t fuck me right now, my heart’s going to stop from the effort of holding myself still.”
Her saucy smile only makes the pleasure-pain worse. A vein throbs in my forehead. I kick my hips upward, but her smile turns wicked.
She places a solid kiss on my lips. “You’re a good man, Mr. Foster.”
Finally—fucking finally—she lowers herself slowly down the length of my cock, and her ragged moan matches mine.
“You feel so good,” she whispers.
“I’m going to make you feel better.”
“You already have,” she says, and I take that as my sign that she’s done trying out the new limits she has in this relationship.
My fingers dig into her hips, and she turns herself over to me.
It’s not going to take much. She needs to come again. Her sweet pussy needs to convulse around me, and then this’ll be perfect.
I circle her clit and we’re a flurry of movement. My hips rocking, her riding me, and me urging the pace with my free hand. Then she’s exploding and lightning bursts behind my eyes.
“Fuck, Em.” The pressure of her walls rippling over me flings me off the edge into oblivion. We’re a writhing mess until we’re a quiet pile of spent limbs.
I wrap my arms around her, more content than I’ve ever been in my life. Her face is buried in my neck, and her fingers are still curled into the material of my shirt.
This moment was everything I thought it’d be, yet there’s a ripple of concern that she still doesn’t understand the depth of my commitment.
I run my hand down her hair. “No matter how much I claim that you’re mine, or how many times I come inside you, the simple truth is, I just want to make you happy, Em.”
She brushes a hand up to my neck. “I know you will. And I’m going to be the one who makes sure you’re happy too.”
“If this is what that means, I already am.”
She snuggles into me. “Me too.”