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Chapter Twenty-Three
Nate
I wake up to my head pounding like a jackhammer. Sun streams in through the curtains, casting its soft glow on Harley’s cheek. She looks so peaceful in sleep and so damn gorgeous. I brush her hair off her forehead and smile. I’m a married man. And I get to call this smart and talented woman my wife.
None of this feels real. It’s like we’re contestants on a dating show, waiting for someone to pull back the curtain and reveal our secrets to the world. I was terrified of messing up around Voss last night, which led to us having one too many glasses of champagne.
“Why are you awake?” Harley asks with one eye open, glaring at me as I run my fingers down her arm. “But… ooh, that feels good.” She lets out a soft moan. “Keep doing that.”
I sit up and lean back against the headboard, continuing to trail my fingers along her skin. She’s still wearing the white, lacy panties that leave little to the imagination and no bra. My cock hardens at the sight of her almost naked body. In this light, her skin is practically glowing. Harley closes her eyes as I massage her and makes the cutest purring sound. She has no idea how much the simplest things she does turns me on.
She blinks a few times, a bright smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
I return her expression. “Morning, wife.”
“Morning, hubs.” She appraises my body, her eyes falling to my chest and down to my rock-hard erection. She tips her head. “And good morning to you, too,” she says with laughter in her voice as she looks at my tented boxers.
“We salute you.” I tip my hand to my forehead and laugh. “And the fact I can see your pussy through your panties isn’t helping.”
She looks down and says, “Oh… well, you can thank Jules for this.”
“Remind me to send her a fruit basket,” I joke, hovering over her, my lips inches from hers. “I’d like to show you just how thankful I am.”
Her fingers curl around my bicep. “Is that so, Mr. King?”
“Yes, it is, Mrs. King,” I whisper before slipping my tongue into her mouth.
She fists my hair between her fingers, gripping onto me for dear life. Harley plays a good game, but I know she wants this. She can fight me all she wants when other people are around. But when we’re alone, it’s just us. The same Harley and Nate who were best friends.
She moans into my mouth, and her body trembles as if she’s ready to explode from the pressure building within. There’s so much passion behind each kiss. With Harley, this is more than a kiss, more than sex. It was never about the sex. Years of pent-up aggression and sexual tension come to the surface at once. I’ve wanted this for so long I can’t remember a time when I didn’t think of Harley in my arms.
As our tongues collide, I lose myself, consumed by every sexy sound she makes. Each flick of her tongue creates a fire which burns beneath my skin, sending a wave of heat throughout my body. Harley makes room for me between her legs. With our bodies molded together, she bucks her hips. I know what she wants, but I need to take my time. This is one morning I want both of us to remember.
Harley whines when I suck her nipple into my mouth. “Nate,” she says out of breath. “Don’t play with me.”
I peek up at her, with her breast in one hand and her nipple between my teeth.
“Be a good husband and make me come,” she groans, kicking off her panties.
Words I never thought I’d hear from Harley’s mouth.
My cock swells from those words. I continue my slow exploration of her body, inching my hand down her stomach. Harley cries out when I roll the pad of my thumb over her clit, rocking her hips into my hand.
“Nate,” she groans when I slide two fingers inside her. “Oh, God… yesss…”
“You’re killing me,” I grunt out as I plunge my fingers deeper and deeper.
She squeezes tight, holding my fingers like a vise, thrusting her hips for more. Her body responds to my touch like it was made for me. If any one woman was made for me, it’s Harley. No one clicks with me like she does. So, it’s not a surprise that we’re this in sync in bed.
After Harley comes on my fingers, I grip her thighs with both hands, lifting her off the mattress as I lick her wet skin. She hisses every time my tongue glides along her sensitive skin, twisting my hair between her fingers. Harley has my head in a death grip, greedy for more of my tongue. She can’t get enough.
“Mmm… don’t stop… yeah, keep doing that.”
