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Hooking her legs around my waist, the fat head of my cock nudges her entrance immediately. If my dick had a mind of its own, it would solely be alive for her. Before either of us can say anything, I force myself as deep as I can go, feeling her spasm as she contracts around me, nearly taking my vision as my heart stutters.
Jesus.
Being inside this woman is never going to get old.
I was made to fit inside of her.
“Ooh,” Bex’s breathy moan is music to my ears.
Rotating my hips, I hit another angle that nearly has her eyes rolling to the back of her head. A triumphant smile stretches across my lips. “Enjoying that?”
“We arenothaving a conversation right now,” Bex groans. She’s so hot and tight, fisting me as I slide in and out of her. Over and over again. By the fifth stroke, she orgasms again, her nails scoring down my chest as her body quakes.
It’s too fucking good. And it’s been way too fucking long since I’ve been inside of her. Four days is too much time spent apart, I won’t let it happen again. A few more thrusts and I follow her over the edge, grunting my release as my mouth latches onto her neck, teeth scraping over the skin the way I know she likes although pretends she doesn’t.
After we finish, I lay on top of her until my softening cock is close to slipping out. Sighing, I pull the rest of the way and roll onto my side to catch my breath.
“See?” I say when my heart rate slows. “I told you we had time.”
Bex sits upright, playfully slapping my chest. “You’re lucky I haven’t gotten dressed yet. King will murder us if we’re late.”
She’s not entirely wrong. Tonight at King’s New Years Eve party, he plans to be cliché and propose to Emilia since Christmas was too hectic this year. He swears he won’t do it as the ball drops, so maybe there’s hope for him yet. I still don’t see why we all need to be in attendance to witness what we all know is going to happen, sans Emilia.
Bex pads into the bathroom to freshen up while I clean myself off and begin to pull on my suit for tonight. I sigh as I button the shirt, wanting nothing more than to stay in this room with her for the rest of the evening instead of socializing.
At least right now everything in my life is back to normal, relatively speaking. The board is terrified of losing their positions, especially since Dad informed them I would someday be taking over and getting on my bad side with the ridiculous drug testing I allowed them to pressure me into would not be happening in the future. And Bex and her father seem to be doing alright as well. He’s been more of an upbeat person ever since they decided to rekindle their father-daughter relationship. Even Noel has quit giving me death glares when Bex isn’t looking. I swear she likes me, she just doesn’t want me to know it.
“Can you help me zip this stupid thing up?” Bex grumbles, entering the bedroom once again. She has on a navy blue dress that glitters under the light, her curves on full display. She spins around to offer me her back, not realizing I’m undressing her with my eyes.
Taking the zipper, I glide it upwards. Once she’s securely in her clothes, I drop a kiss to her neck and continue getting ready. Thankfully neither of us take forever to dress.
Within forty minutes we’re standing on King’s doorstep, a bottle of champagne in my hand, the other clutching Bex’s fingers as King opens the door while glaring at us. Even though we’re early, I suppose he still considers us late since the party is supposed to kick off in fifteen minutes. I glare back at him, pulling Bex through the door since the lazy bastard is too busy sweating to escort us inside.
Bex peaks around the room at all the people gathered. I spy several of King and Emilia’s colleagues, some of their personal distant friends, King’s parents, and even the Graham’s, who I was sworn to secrecy about, with Emilia being their child.
Aillard comes over to us, taking the champagne from my hand while smiling. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Not a word,” I comment.
“Emilia keeps giving him the angry eyes for not participating in group conversations,” Aillard snickers. “I don’t think she’s realized he’s nervous, not pissed off. This party was his idea.”
Which should have clued Emilia in that her antisocial boyfriend is up to something. My eyes scan the crowd again, looking for her, but color me surprised when I spy the last person I ever expected to find in King’s living room making a beeline towards us. I give the Irishman a strained smile. “O’Rourke.”
The man presses his lips together as he comes closer. His eyes dart around towards Bex and me before landing on Aillard. He sighs, his blue eyes tightening around the corners. “Your girlfriend is annoying.”
Aillard doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the comment. “Is that so?” He flicks a blond eyebrow up. “Why is that? Is she asking you to participate in her literacy program again?” Amusement lightens his face, a cruel, gleeful type of amusement that says he’s enjoying whatever fuckery his girlfriend is up to. “Why don’t you want to read to underprivileged children, Finn?”
“Fuck off,” the Irishman glares. “That’s not what she’s doing. She’s trying to set me up on a date.”
If I was drinking something, I would have choked. Instead, startled laughter comes out as Bex taps my back, her own delight on her face even though she’s never met O’Rourke before.
“So go on a date.” Aillard shrugs. “What’s the issue?”
“You know damn well what the issue is,” O’Rourke glowers. “Tell her to knock it off.”
Aillard places a hand on his chest, pretending to be affronted. “Me?” He blinks. “What makes you think I can tell Whitney what to do and she would heed me?”
O’Rourke glares harder. “She already knows I have a fiancée. I told her that.”
