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My orgasm builds, climbing higher inside my body, and I begin to shake like a volcano about to burst. The force of his hands and tongue creates a pressure that builds from deep within me. I can’t hold on much longer.
“I love the way your body quivers when you’re about to come.”
Will sucks my clit once more, and I’m done for. My orgasm erupts, sending shock waves through my body.
“Fucking heaven,” he drawls as he licks me once more and savors every drop of my arousal.
He lowers my leg and brings me to a full standing position, but I’m useless and weak. He hoists me up so my legs wrap around his waist, and I have to balance myself with my core since my hands are still bound.
Will places me on the kitchen table. I look down and see the oak that was sanded by my father.
“Not here,” I say.
He looks down at me, his brow furrowed.
“My dad made this table for my mom. Feels sacrilegious. Plus, my kids eat here.”
With a nod, he stands, and the arousal in his jeans is powerful.
“I plan to fuck you, and when I do, I’m not stopping for a very, very long time. So, where can I do so that’s safe from sacrilege?”
I look around—couch, ottoman, dining room, Hunter’s toy chest—and can’t find anywhere that’s not off-limits.
With one quick swoop, he places me over his shoulder, caveman-style.
“Will!” I yelp as he walks into the kitchen, bends down to grab my sweatshirt and pajama pants off the tiled floor, and then heads toward the stairs. “Where are we going?”
“Your bed.”
“Second door on the left.”
When we get to my room, he places me down gently, and the weight makes the bed creak. He unbinds my hands, and I’m surprised by the action.
“Wrought iron.” He seems pleased with my childhood bed. “We can definitely play in here.”
I scoot up the bed and wonder just what kind ofplayWill has in mind.
“New rule. If you’re giving me control, then you’re giving it on your own. I’m not taking it. Grab the headboard. If you let go, you lose.”
“What do you win?”
“I get to take you dancing again. Country music only. May even force you into a line dance.”
I groan. “If I win you have to work another wedding with me.”
“That’s not a punishment at all, baby. Hell, I crave time with you.” He winks and reaches behind him to remove his shirt. His body, ripped and brawny, is on display. His tattoo, Saint Michael, blazing in glory, ignites on his bicep. It’s as beautiful as the first time I saw it. I was in a bar, attracted to this man then and even more so now. My fingers itch to touch the inked skin. Itch to cling to this man … but I can’t.
“I love your tattoo.”
“I love the way you look when you’re staring at it. Your lips part, and those blue eyes widen. It takes everything in me not to touch you. For so long, I was yearning to kiss this perfect mouth of yours.”
If he only knew the thoughts that raced through my mind all these months. I’ve been mentally drooling over this man since the moment I met him.
“You can kiss me now. All you want.”
He smiles and leans in to slide that silken tongue into my mouth in a soul claiming kiss. “Happiest man alive.”
I lean back on the bed and grip the wrought iron rails of my youth.
