Page 12 of Stealing the Bride


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The build of pleasure is the only thing I can truly focus on at the moment, so I rock my hips to grind down on something very hard. It hits the perfect spot I need, and I do it again.

“When did you take your shorts off?” His voice is panting in my ear, and it sends hot shivers down my back.

“Law—” I can’t get his whole name out.

Last night, I dreamed of Lawson, and when I woke up, I somehow ended up on top of him. He thrusts up to give me what I need, and I moan again.

Part of me was afraid to open my eyes because I was scared he wasn’t real and that I’d wake to find myself alone. I didn’t want to be back in my apartment and have the most perfect night be forever in my imagination.

Thankfully, that’s not how it happened. Lawson is almost too real with how he’s consuming me. He’s already making me forget about being rational.

“Thank fuck you’re awake,” he growls as I keep rocking my hips to get that delicious friction. “Kidnapping is one thing; this, ah, fuck.” He groans again, and his words become a jumbled mess. It doesn’t matter because I can’t understand them anyway.

“So close,” I whisper, knowing he’ll hear me.

“I got you.” He grips my hips and holds me tighter against him. My soft center against his hard length is perfection. He’s not lying, he's got me all the way. I cum hard this time, even harder than last night.

“Lawson!” I whimper as the orgasm floods my body.

The wet heat between us somehow gets hotter as he rocks my hips a few more times. The pleasure is drawn out until I can’t take anymore and collapse on top of him. I’m so small compared to him, and I could easily sleep like this. That might be exactly what happened last night.

Both our breathing starts to slow, and as the rush of ecstasy starts to fade, I’m left with the reality of what just happened. I’m pretty sure I humped him while he slept and I have no clue what came over me.

I do remember waking up at one point and being hot. I must have wiggled out of my shorts before passing out. I’m not sure how I got them off with Lawson’s giant bear arm wrapped around me. Then again, he could have moved and put me here. I’ve noticed he’s good at putting me where he wants me.

Lawson’s finger drifts up my spine lazily. “You’re okay. Relax.”

His voice is so calm, and I wonder how he knows my anxiety is growing by the second. We spent hours talking last night, and a lot of it was me trying to pull information out of him. I’ve never been a big sharer, but somehow, he made me talk.

The stories about his family made my heart ache. I wonder if some people know how great they have it. I shouldn’t be ashamed of my past because I didn’t choose it, but I’m always awkward when I have to tell people I don’t have a family. Some laugh and say I’m lucky while others seem to pity me. Last night, I couldn’t read Lawson’s reaction when I told him, but he pushed for more. Then I said too much, but it might have been the wine. I told him more about my life than anyone before, and I’ve only known him a day.

“Are you okay?” I ask, keeping my face tucked into his neck.

I want to run, but I keep clinging to him. I’m surprised he can understand my muffled words with my lips pressed to his throat. Damn, he smells good. It’s not an overpriced fancy cologne either. It’s all Lawson.

“Am I okay?” he laughs, making his whole body shake.

My thighs tighten against his hips where I’m straddling him. How am I only now realizing we’re in this position? His laughter dies off as I squeeze, and the warmth I felt before is gone. Lawson is still hard as a rock, but there’s a sticky wetness between us.

“Oh gosh.” I jerk to sit up because I want to see what the hell I've done.

I gasp when I glance down and see that my panties are pushed to the side. Half of his cock is out of his boxer briefs, and both of us are covered in cum. I try to get up, but his firm grip won’t let me move an inch. I cover my face with my hands, which is stupid, but I want to hide.

“Babe,” Lawson says gently. “I’d pull your hands down, but I get the feeling the second I release your hips, you’re going to try and run.” I can’t deny it, and he should want me to get the hell out of here. I molested him in his sleep. “Drop them,” he orders, his tone firmer than I’ve heard from him before. Slowly I do as I’m told to see his lopsided grin. “Now give me a good morning kiss.”

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