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“I want to,” Jessica says. “If you do too. Please?”
And maybe she needs a distraction from the storm, or maybe she really wants me badly enough to plead. Either way, I could never tell her no.
Not when she’s asking for something I desperately want to give.
But…
“It won’t change things.” Jessica squeezes my fingers. “I’ve already decided I’m going to stay here if you want me.”
“Fuck yes,” I rasp, “I do. I do.” And Jessica bursts into giggles. I grin too, scars shifting.
“You’re skipping ahead.”
Ha.
It’s dizzying when she turns and scrambles into my lap, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of my legs. Jessica loops her arms around my neck andstill, I’m waiting for the “Gotcha!”. Waiting for the camera crew to jump out and tell me I’ve won ten thousand dollars and lifelong trust issues.
“Touch me,” Jessica urges. She plucks one of my hands off the bed, her fingers barely circling my wrist, then presses my palm against the front of her pajama shirt.
Soft, warm flesh.
The racing thump of her heart.
I groan, weighing her tit in my hand.
Jessica
The lighthouse keeper is vibrating with tension. He’s stock still beneath me, tendons corded in his neck, his hand shaking as he kneads my breast. Two eyes roam over me, one dark, one milky white, and I blow out a ragged breath as I take him in too.
Murray wore a white t-shirt to bed. It’s a loose fit, and yet it still stretches over the mountain of his chest; still cleaves to the hard swell of his belly. His long hair spills over his shoulders, and I can see his chest hair through the thin cotton, along with the brown discs of his nipples.
I can’t see his lower half, butlord,I can feel it already. Spearing up at me through the layers of clothing and bed sheets, prodding at the juncture of my thighs.
I whimper, squirming closer. There’s no room for feeling self conscious here tonight. Not when we’ve already stripped ourselves so bare.
“You’re a big man,” I breathe, leaning forward to mouth at his bearded jaw. “Think I can take it?”
A broken laugh. “I know you can.”
I know that too. I’m only teasing, because my god, I will get Murray’s cock inside me tonight if it kills me. We may have only known each other for one day, but it feels like a lifetime already—in thebestway.
Murray MacGregor is my soulmate.
I tell him, too, even though it’s an objectively insane thing to say. But my mail order groom makes this growling noise, deep in his massive chest, and then he’s cupping the back of my head. Drawing me up for a hard, drugging kiss.
“You’re mine,” he says, slanting our mouths together again and again. “You’re mine, Jessica. Don’t ever go away.”
No fear. “I won’t, I promise.”
You know, I chose these pajamas because they’re super cute and they’re not too suggestive. I didn’t know what Murray would be like, did I? And if I didn’t like my mail order groom, I didn’t want to give the wrong impression. I wanted to keep things calm.
I sure regret these fiddly little buttons now, though.
“Get this off me,” I huff between kisses, yanking at the fabric. “Murray.I want your hands on me properly. On my skin.”
He’s laughing, the bed shaking with his mirth, and then the first few buttons are undone and he’s lifting the pajama shirt over my head.
Cool air hits my bare skin. I go to cross my arms, suddenly shy.
