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She squirmed under him, begging for more with short, unintelligible bursts of sound, coming and seeming helpless to stop the torrent of her orgasm. Her hands scrabbled for leverage and she pushed back to meet his driving rhythm, her breaths expelled from her nose every time his cock bottomed out.
As his orgasm hit, his hips locked, and for a long, blessed moment he was helpless to move, with Ophelia wriggling, whining, impaled on his cock, trying to coax him into motion again. Pleasure surged through him as his body released into her, claiming her with hot jets of come she’d drawn from his suffering balls. When the worst of his lust had passed, his legs wobbled and he collapsed on top of her for a moment before remembering they had to hurry.
Four minutes until her meeting started.
Panting, he withdrew, a rush of come following his retreat. He tugged her panties from her mouth, and she lay there stunned while he cleaned her legs with the damp fabric.
“Come on, baby.” He chuckled, then tried to pull her to her feet, but she refused to get up. “You need to get cleaned up. People will be trying to get in here any minute now.”
She stirred feebly. Tugging his jeans up, he winced. He was so messy now he needed a shower. He tucked her sodden panties into his jeans pocket. She gazed back at him in starry-eyed confusion, hair mussed and shell-shocked. Her lips were swollen, and her face was still blotchy and pink. She was so damned beautiful.
Unable to resist, he grabbed the black Sharpie marker off her now-strewn files, and he uncapped it. With a flourish, he wrote on one of her perfect ass cheeks before he helped her step into her skirt and then tugged it up, then zipped it.
“Pull yourself together, Ophelia,” he admonished. He sat her in her chair, fixed her bra and buttoned her blouse, then took down her hair and finger combed it. When he checked her expression, she was not only dazed, but her eyeliner was smudged. He rubbed at it, cleaning her up as well as he could without water and another fifteen minutes.
She was tousled and sexy, her lips red, and maybe she was smelling faintly of come, but she was presentable.
“Hello?” He crouched in front of her. “Are you ready to think with your brain instead of your pussy?” When he bit his lip and held back a laugh, she glared.
“What did you write on me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? I guess you can check later.”
Quickly, he kissed her, then moved to the door and unlocked it. He went back across the room and slipped out into the blast furnace air of the balcony, then went over the railing and dropped down onto the lawn below. She came out onto the balcony and looked down at him, laughing.
“You could have gone through the door, dork,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
“This is more romantic, don’t you think?” He winked at her. “Don’t forget to read your ass later.”
She rolled her eyes and zinged an elastic at him. It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder, but he raised a brow at her anyway. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth in consternation.
“Don’t forget,” he prompted.
“I won’t.”
He made his way around to the front of the building, and caught a confused glance from the guard a
t the front door.
As he got into his car, he wondered how pissed she’d be when she found his marriage proposal written on her sweet little ass.
Epilogue
Luck was on their side that sunny August day. Yesterday it was damn hot in the valley between the Rocky Mountains, but today, a soft wind from the west kept the temperature perfectly comfortable.
The wedding wasn’t anything as spectacular as Addison’s was shaping up to be, with the mermaid fountain and free-range peacocks—but it was elegant in its simplicity.
“You look beautiful!” Priya gushed as Ophelia waited on the porch of Lakeview Lodge for the ceremony to begin. The same place she and Luke had stayed in on their road trip.
The ceremony would take place lakeside just behind her father’s lodge. He would have loved it.
They’d flown their close friends and family to the park and blocked off most of the lodge for the days before and after the wedding. Though she hadn’t been chased by photographers in months, she still felt compelled to keep the wedding small and private.
Chloe moved behind her and straightened the back of Ophelia’s gown while Priya fussed with her hair. She wore it in long curls with a crown of flowers on top. Her dress had a simple Empire waist that flowed gently with her figure. Her mom might have wanted a princess dress with a tiara and the whole giant cliché, but she’d been polite enough not to say so.
In fact, their relationship had improved now that Ophelia had asserted herself. Her mom had surprisingly backed off and was even supportive now and then. She spotted her in the distance, speaking with the officiant, probably bossing him around.
And Luke was there too, digging his toe into the gravel beach. He looked as nervous as she felt, which made her smile. She couldn’t wait to be married to that man.
