Chapter Sixteen
Clay
A man’s never driven so fast down the highway. I push the pedal in my truck down to the floorboards. Every minute that ticks past feels like another minute that might make things too late. It’s tearin’ me up inside that she thinks she’s in the way. That she’s leavin’ for my sake. Fuck all that. I’m a selfish enough bastard to admit that I want her at my side always. Her stayin’ is for my sake. Didn’t realize what a good thing I had when she came back to me, agreein’ to my stupid-ass contract and my ignorant demands. Fuckin’ anal. I demanded anal because I thought it was funny. Here she was havin’ to give up her pride and her dignity just so she could keep her dad off the streets, and I’m demandin’ her butthole because it soothes my pride.
I’m such a goddamn bastard. I hate myself right now for what I’ve put her through.
I don’t want to lose her. I can’t.
When I pull up to the Chap Weston Museum and Ranch, I growl to myself at the realization that it’s the grand reopening and the place is packed. There’s not a spot open in the newly expanded parking lot. I circle it twice, tapping impatiently on my steering wheel and hopin’ a slot will open up. When one doesn’t, I get tired of waitin’ and drive my truck onto the freshly landscaped grass and park it there. I’ll fuckin’ pay for the flowerbeds to be fixed. I don’t care. Right now I just want to see my Natalie.
I slam out of the truck and up the path. There’s a short line waitin’ to get in, and I push ahead of them. Someone protests but no one stops me. Inside, the place is twice as crowded, and I push past two rooms crammed full of people before someone taps me on the shoulder. “You need to wait your turn, mister,” a woman with a baby under her arm and two kids behind her tells me, giving me her best mom glare.
“I ain’t here for the tour,” I say, tryin’ to push past.
A big man—probably her husband—moves in front of the doorway to the next room, blockin’ me. He crosses his arms over his chest. “You need to stop and think about what you’re doing, sir.”
Fuck, enough with this. I’m normally the good-natured Price brother, but right now, I’m about to punch a man in the face. “And you need to move—”
“What’s going on?” a woman asks in a bright, chipper voice. Suddenly there’s a pink cowboy hat at my side, and for a flash of a second, I think it’s Natalie. But it’s only the actress I hired to do the tour. She’s dressed similar to Natalie’s old costume, her hair in pigtails. “Oh, Mr. Price!” She beams at me. “Are you here for the grand opening?”
“I’m looking for Natalie,” I tell her. “Natalie Weston.”
“Oh!” She gestures past her. “I think she’s actually helping out in the gift shop right now—”
I grab her by the shoulders and gently move her to the side. “That’s all I needed to know.” I step forward but the man’s still blocking my way, and I give him a deadly look.
“It’s all right, sir,” the actress tells the man. “Mr. Price is the owner.”
I don’t correct her. Ain’t got time for that shit. All I care about is that the man moves to the side and then I rush past him, frantically tearing through the crowded rooms and looking for the gift shop.
I can’t be too late. I refuse to think it. If I can get her to hear me out, there’s still a chance for us.
I burst into the gift shop, and to my frustration, it’s twice as crowded as any other room. People are grabbin’ up souvenirs like they’re goin’ out of fashion. The tiny cafe tucked in the corner has a huge line, and I can hear the coffee machine’s frother goin’ a mile a minute. I look around desperately for Nat, but she’s dark-haired and short and doesn’t stick out in a crowd. Is she not here? Did I miss her? Or is she hidin’ from me? The thought wrenches my heart. If I’ve lost her—
“A double mocha latte?” a familiar voice calls out, and as I look in that direction, I see a familiar arm holding up a coffee in a Chap Weston decorated disposable cup. “Double mocha latte? Who had it?”
Nat.
Thank god.
I move forward, pushing people aside. There she is, lookin’ just as pretty as ever. Her hair’s down around her shoulders and curled slightly, and she has a pretty, pale pink dress on that makes her look all peaches and cream. Her lips part in surprise as I move forward and take the coffee out of her hand.
“Hey, that’s mine,” someone says, protesting.
I put the coffee down on the counter and take her hands in mine. Her mouth is open slightly and she stares in shock at me. “Clay?”
Fuck. I’m just so glad to see her. She’s here. I caught her before she could walk out of my life again. The emotions I’ve been holding back for the last two weeks rush through me with staggering force, and I drop to my knees and bury my face in her skirts, my arms locked around her waist. “Don’t ever leave me,” I tell her raggedly. “Never, ever again.”
“Oh . . . honey,” she says softly, and her hand strokes my hair. “I wasn’t leaving. I just wanted to give you a little room to breathe.”
“I don’t need room to breathe. I need you.” I look up at her. “You’re all I’ve ever needed.”
The look on her face is beautiful to see. A tiny, understanding smile curves her pretty mouth and she strokes her fingers over my short beard. “I know it’s been a hard few days, Clay. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to rush on my account. I know there’s a lot demanding your time right now—”
I shake my head, because this last hour or two, when I thought I lost her again, has made things crystal clear to me. Nothing matters if I don’t have her. She makes me happy. “I love you, Natalie Weston.”
Someone in the crowd “awwws.”
Nat’s smile grows wider, radiant. “I love you, too, Clay Price. I always have. I’ve been waiting for you to say that, you know. I think I’ve always been waiting for you.”
I get to my feet and cup her face, bending so I can give her a kiss. I claim her mouth with a fierce, possessive locking of lips, showing her just how damn much she means to me.
“This is a very sweet moment,” someone nearby says, “but can you guys do that somewhere away from the counter? I’m trying to make coffee here.”
Nat pulls away, her eyes shining. “My bedroom’s upstairs, remember?” she whispers.
“Say no more.” I lock my hands under Nat’s hips and lift her into my arms. She gives a little scream of surprise and flings her arms around my neck, pressin’ her tits near my face. Takes everythin’ I have not to plant a kiss on ’em, but there’s dozens of people watchin’ us right now. I push my way through the crowd, toward the back of the house where I remember the stairs are, my woman in my arms.
It isn’t until we’re up the stairs that I set Natalie down. A glance toward the far end of the hall shows the double doors of Chap Weston’s rooms are closed, and I half wonder if my girl’s gonna head down there like she did last time, and talk to her daddy. I want to tackle her into bed, but I know the nurturer in her always wants to make sure that everyone’s doing okay, even her asshole old man.
But she doesn’t even look in that direction today. She puts a finger to her lips and opens the door to her room, then tugs me inside.
And . . . wow. I remember sneakin’ into Nat’s room once as a teenager, back when we were datin’ for the first time. I remember that everything was pink and white and girlish, like she was five years old instead of sixteen. Now, seven years later, I’m a little startled to see that it hasn’t changed a bit. Nat still has a ruffled white canopy bed and pink walls. There’s a fluffy white throw rug on the floor, delicate white dressers, and a chest covered with worn stuffed animals off to one side. It still looks like the room of Shirley Temple instead of a grown woman.
“Uh,” I say softly.
“I know,” Nat says, and moves to my side. She buries her face against my chest. “It’s a hideous room. But my dad thought I was a little girl—emphasis on ‘little’—until I graduated. I was going to change it, but then there wasn’t time, and then when there was time, there wasn’t any money. So . . . yeah.” She slides her hands around my waist. “I hope it isn’t too much of a boner killer.”
“Ain’t nothin’ that could kill the boner I have for you,” I admit. “Though this might be close.”
She giggles, and the sound is so sweet and lovely that it makes me ache all over again. Just bein’ in her presence makes me hard. God, I love this woman.
“Maybe just close your eyes,” she murmurs, and tucks her head against my chest again.
“Nah. I’d miss out on gettin’ to look at you.” I smooth my hand down her silky hair. “I thought I’d lost you. Thought you were gone for good.”
“Absolutely not. Remember that our contract states that I’m at your disposal.”
That fuckin’ contract. “I’m sorry I made you sign it. I shoulda came to you and just asked you out on a date, like a normal person.”
Her hands smooth up and down my back, the soft motion both soothing and erotic all at once. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have my share of normal people in my life. I probably wouldn’t have understood the question.”
I chuckle.
“I wouldn’t have left you,” she tells me in a gentle voice. “Never. I’ve actually been scared for the last few weeks that you’re the one tired of me, and I’ve been wondering how I’m going to cope when you send me away again.”
“You crazy?” I tighten my arms around her, wonderin’ how I’m gonna manage to get this dress off her without distractin’ her from her thoughts. “I’ve been in love with you all over again since you kissed me in the limo and let me know how mad you were about it.”
“I’m glad you say that,” Nat admits with a sigh. “Because I’ve been in love with you all over again since the beginning, and I thought I was being too clingy.”
“You were?” I frown. “You cried after we had sex.”
“Well, yeah,” she admits, and pokes my side. “You rather ungraciously pointed out that you’d paid me to have sex, and here I was all in love with you again, and it made me feel guilty.”
I groan. I probably did say that. “I’m not real smooth with words, Nat. You might have noticed that.”
“I might have,” she teases. “You might have also noticed that I tend to not ask questions, and then I get my feelings hurt without telling you how I truly feel.”
“That did occur to me.” I rub a hand up and down her back. “So basically what I’m hearin’ is that we’re both shit at communicatin’.”
“I believe that to be an accurate statement, yes.”
“Maybe we should work on that,” I tell her. I glance around her room and spot a pen on the dresser beside her bed. Pressing a kiss atop her head, I pull away from her arms and pick it up. I sit on the edge of the bed, and when she moves to stand closer to me, I take her hand in mine. “I don’t know if you noticed, but for a while, I was writin’ things on my hand so I wouldn’t forget how to act.”
“I remember,” she tells me. “I saw a S and a R. I wondered what they were for.”
“The R was for ‘ruthless’ because I decided I was gonna be ruthless about gettin’ you in my bed. And the S was for ‘scoundrel,’ because Knox suggested I be one. Said that I should be mean and not care about your feelings in this contract I made you sign. That I was gonna use you to get what I wanted and not care somehow.” I shake my head. “Shitty advice.”
“Maybe you don’t ask your single brother for advice about women,” Nat teases, smiling.
I nod. “Thing is, I couldn’t be mean to you. You’ve always just been so sweet and perfect and exactly what I wanted, and every time I tried to be ruthless, it never worked out. I ain’t cut out to be a scoundrel.” I take the pen and draw a tiny heart on her knuckle. “All I know how to do is be in love with you.”
“That’s not such a terrible thing,” she tells me breathlessly. “So do I get to write a message on your hand?”
I hand her the pen. “Go for it.”
She takes my fist in her hand and begins to delicately write something. It’s just a few lines, and when she releases me, I’m a little surprised to see an E there. “E?”
“Because you’re my everything,” she admits softly. “And you need to remember that.”
I groan. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I take the pen from her hand and put it back down on the dresser, then pull her close. “I love you, Nat.”
“I love you, too, Clay.” Her smile is happy, gentle.
I lean in and give her a light kiss. “Way I see it, you’ve got two choices.”
“Oh?”
“You can let me fuck you hard and dirty here on your bed, but you’ve got to be quiet,” I tell her, and slide a hand up her skirt to cup her ass. “Or we can go out to my car, drive down the road about a mile and pull over, and then I can fuck you hard and dirty there and hope the cops don’t stop to pay a visit.”
“Mmm. Choices, choices.” She shifts her weight, and her ass brushes against my hand. Little tease. “I think I’m going to go with the bed in here. It looks like it needs a little dirtying up, don’t you think?”
I like the way she thinks. “You sure you’re gonna be able to stay quiet?”
“If not, you’ll just have to shove something in my mouth, won’t you?” Her eyes gleam.
I pull her forward and bury my face against her tits again, stifling my groan. “You are the naughtiest thing ever, Natalie Weston. I love that about you.”
“You love everything about me,” she says lightly, a slight wobble in her voice.
“I do,” I tell her. “Don’t you ever think I don’t. I loved you from the moment I saw you. I loved you even when I thought you hated me. I loved you then and I love you now. Don’t think I know how to not love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers. “So, so much.”
I pull her down next to me. “Then you ain’t gonna mind if I pull this skirt of yours up and test-drive my new beard? It’s grown in quite a bit.”
She shivers. “Let’s check things out, shall we?” Her hand goes to my jaw, and she feels it, pretending to consider the length. “It seems acceptable,” she tells me after a moment. “Maybe not as good as before, but acceptable.”
“That just means my tongue will have to work a little harder,” I tell her, and get to my feet. My cock’s already respondin’ to this playful talk between us, hard and pressin’ against the front of my jeans. I ignore it, though. Not when I’ve got Nat ready to let me go down on her in this fluffy monstrosity of a bed. I ain’t gettin’ my nut until she’s come at least once. I wanna see if she can be as quiet as she thinks she can, because, from my experience? Nat don’t know how to be quiet when she’s in bed.
Which is . . . pretty damn fun. I wanna break that control she thinks she has, too. So when she beams up at me, all gorgeous and soft, I lean and give her a quick kiss and then say, “Get on your hands and knees.”
Her cheeks flush immediately, which is just the prettiest damn thing. “What?”
“Hands and knees,” I repeat, grinning.
“But I thought we were going to—”
“Oh, we are. Trust me on that.”
She bites her lip and her face seems to be an even brighter red. “From behind?” she asks, scandalized.
“Absolutely. You chicken?”
“Of you having your face in my privates? No. Don’t be silly.” But she can’t quite keep her bluster together. She gets to her feet, smooths her skirts, and then climbs on the bed on hands and knees, and looks over her shoulder at me.
“Now, remember,” I drawl. “Gotta stay quiet. Don’t wanna be found out.”
“I know!”
I grab the hem of her skirt and begin to slowly drag it up her thighs. She shivers, and I can tell she’s got gooseflesh. She’s practically trembling with anticipation.
I am the luckiest son of a bitch ever to have this woman. Humbled by that realization, I vow that she’s gonna get two orgasms from me goin’ down on her, not just one. She deserves a hundred, but I suspect she’ll be squirmin’ off the bed by the time I get two out of her.
I carefully lift her skirt all the way up and blow a bit of air on the backs of her creamy thighs. She squirms, sucking in a breath as I do, and I can practically see her pussy clench through her tiny little panties. They’re a pale, cream-colored satin, the edges decorated with a bit of lace, and they’re just like her—elegant, ladylike, and still sexy.
They’re also comin’ off right away.
I hook a finger in the fabric and slowly drag them over the curves of her ass, revealing her pale skin. She shifts as I do, and it’s almost like her pretty ass is wigglin’ at the thought of me tonguin’ her from this angle. Inch by inch, I drag the panties down, and then her pussy is exposed, all pink folds and skin gleaming with a hint of arousal. Nat makes a little sighing noise when I pull the panties down her thighs.
“Shhh,” I remind her. “You’re supposed to be quiet.”
“I am,” she whispers. “And should I take my shoes off?” She taps one foot against my leg.
“Nope,” I tell her. “All I need are these panties gone. You can keep the rest on while I fuck your pussy with my tongue.”
She bites back a low little moan and sinks down on her elbows. “God, Clay,” she breathes. “You’re filthy.”
I am. She likes that, though. I can tell. She’s already wet just at the thought of my tastin’ her, and I haven’t even put my mouth anywhere near her yet.
I move off the bed from where I’m kneeling behind her, just so we can remove her panties off both her legs. I pull them off and then hand them to her. “Keep those safe for me.”
She lowers her head to the blankets and gives a little muffled groan.
“Quiet, quiet,” I remind in a low voice, even as I trace one finger up the inside of her thigh. She’s trembling, and when I finally get my finger on its slow journey up to her cleft, I touch her ever so lightly, moving back and forth against the seam of her cunt. “I want you to be fuckin’ soaked when I put my mouth on you, baby,” I tell her. “Get that pussy sopping wet for me so I can lick up all those juices.”
She shudders and snatches a pillow from near the headboard, holding it against her face to muffle her heavy breathing.
“Spread your legs for me, I think,” I tell her, rubbing my finger back and forth over her folds. “Nice and wide.”
Nat shivers again and her hips jerk, almost as if she’s tryin’ to clench around my cock. Fuck, I love that. I’m dyin’ to push my fingers into her and fuck her with my hand, but I’m gonna drag this out. I want her to lose control, and the added torture of tryin’ to be quiet is just part of the game. It’s clear she’s enjoyin’ this, because she’s so wet the insides of her thighs are gleaming with moisture. I want to lick it all up.
Hell, maybe I will. Maybe I should lie on my back and let her sit on my face for a bit. The mental image is enough to make my sac tighten, as if I’m ready to come, too. And when she obediently parts her legs wide, revealing her pink folds? It’s too much to resist. “Scoot up a bit on the bed.”
“What?” She glances back at me, her face flushed and her hair tousled. Her eyes are glazed with need and I’ve barely even touched her.
“Scoot up.” I give her plump ass a light slap and then rub the spot. “Enough so I can lie back on the bed.”
Confused, she crawls forward a foot or two, and then looks back at me. “What are you going to do?”
“Never you mind,” I tell her. “You’ll find out in a minute.” I press kisses to the curves of her delicious bottom, drawing out the tension a little. Then, when she’s good and squirming again, I lie back on the bed and shimmy up until her knees are on my shoulders, and I’ve got the prettiest sight a man ever saw—Natalie Weston’s cunt spread inches from my face.
Perfection.
I slide my hands up and down her thighs, rubbing them. “Lower that sweet pussy a little, baby.”
Nat sucks in a breath, and then moans into her pillow when she realizes what I mean. “Clay, you want me to—”
“Hell yeah I do.” Since she ain’t movin’ right away, I reach up and drag a finger up and down her folds, coating it with her juices, and then bring it to my mouth. “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby.”
She bites back her whimper, and then her ass wiggles just a little, and her hips ease down a fraction. “My skirt,” she breathes.
Don’t care about her skirt. All I care about is getting my mouth on her pussy. I tuck the fabric of her skirt behind my head and give a little tug on her thighs. “Lower, babe.”
Nat moans, but she does as I ask, spreading her thighs wider so she can move her body down toward my face.
Then, she’s there, a mere inch from my mouth, and the musk of her is fillin’ my nose with her scent. I love this. Love the way she smells, the way she tastes, even love the pretty, flushed folds of her cunt and the dark curls that surround it. I lift my head, eager to have a taste, and drag my tongue up the seam of her body.
I can feel the tremble that rocks through her, can feel her thighs clench in response.
“More?” I ask, panting. If she says no, I might fling her down on the bed and take what I want anyhow, I’m that far gone with need. Lick her until that shy “no” becomes the “yes” she secretly wants it to be.
“God, yes,” she breathes.
Then I’m the one groaning. I drag my tongue over her sweetness again, exploring her with tongue and lips, lapping up every bit of her arousal. Each stroke of my tongue over her folds makes her move a little, her hips shifting, and I know she’s trying to subconsciously steer me toward her clit, where she gets the greatest amount of pleasure. I’m going to get there, though. I’m just going to take a little more time doing so. I want her beside herself with need by the time I finally touch it.
So I continue to kiss and explore her folds, dipping my tongue into the well of her core just once. I map her out with my lips, learning her body and steaming the insides of her thighs with my hot breath. All the while, she quietly wriggles atop of me, a mixture of impatience and desire.
I stroke my fingers up and down the backs of her thighs, adding to my teasing. I’m giving her all kinds of touches, but not the ones that will bring her off, and she knows it.
Her movements become more impatient. “Clay,” she pants. “Damn it, you’re not playing fair.”
“What’s fair?” I ask between long, slow licks of her folds. Not the juicy bits hiding in them, just the outside. Just enough to make her crazy with unsatisfied lust.
“Not this!”
“Then how should I touch you?”
“Deep,” she begs me. “So deep.”
I can’t refuse. Not when she begs so beautifully. I push my face deeper into her folds, seeking out her clit with my tongue. I find the small bump and begin to circle it, just how she likes, and her little noises of delight grow louder by the moment. When I suck lightly on it, her hips buck against my face and she makes a choking sound.
“Not so noisy,” I chastise her, and slip a finger between her thighs, seeking out her core. “Or I can’t give you more.”
Her moan is almost inaudible, and she pushes the pillow against her face once more, seeking to stifle her sounds.
I love it, though. I love how wild she gets when I touch her, how my reserved, lovely Natalie turns into a fierce, needy creature between the sheets. I suck on her clit again, and push a finger into her core.
She inhales so deeply it almost sounds like a bull snorting, and I chuckle before licking her again.
“Not funny,” she grits out in a low whisper. “You’re a torturer.”
Am I? I’ll just have to torture her harder, then. I push a second finger into her heat, and her cunt immediately clasps tight around them, and I can feel her thighs quiver. She wants more. I thrust into her even as I return to licking her clit, and she immediately moans. Her cunt tightens around my fingers again, and I know she’s close. I curl one of my fingers forward, seeking the little rough patch that I’ve read online should be there.
Nat nearly comes off the bed. This time, her moan isn’t muffled by a pillow, and it echoes through the quiet room, overloud.
And fuck, I love it. My dick jerks in my pants, and I have to force myself to remain in control. “You gotta quiet down, baby,” I whisper. “Don’t want anyone to come in and see me with my face buried in this sweet pussy—”
Nat gives another choked moan, and then she’s coming, her cunt tightening reflexively around my fingers over and over again. I don’t want to stop, though. I want her to keep coming. I want her to come so hard that she tears up the bed, so I keep thrusting into her, my finger curved to find that G-spot on her walls, and I keep sucking and working her clit.
“Clay,” she whines, panting. “I can’t— I need— Oh—oh!”
She comes again, a scream muffled into her pillow. This time, when she comes, I feel a surge of wetness from between her thighs, and my tongue is coated with it. I feel an incredible sense of accomplishment. I think I just made my girl squirt. Hot damn, if that doesn’t make a man feel like a fucking king.
Her movements slow over me, and the constant quivering of her hips turns slow and languid as her orgasms begin to ebb. She tries to crawl off of me, to get away from my insistent mouth, but I lock an arm around her thigh and hold her in place, continuing to fuck her with both tongue and fingers.
When she comes again, I have mercy on her and let her flop onto her back next to me. Cool air rushes over my face and I wipe the taste of her from my lips and beard, satisfied that she’s been well-pleasured but aching for my own release. I glance over and her face is flushed bright red, her eyes glazed, her hair a disheveled mess. Her mouth is swollen and the pillow next to her is wet in one corner from where she’s been biting down.
She looks so completely pleasured and fucked good, and my cock hasn’t even been inside her yet.
“I love you,” she says weakly. “If I didn’t love you before, god, I’d sure love you after that.”
I can’t help but grin, and I get to my feet, undoing the buckle on my belt before sliding it to the floor. I want to feel her skin against mine. Want to touch her and feel her body clasp around mine. “Want me to go another round between those pretty thighs?” I ask, using one hand to strip my jeans off, and the other to smooth up her leg. Can’t help touching her. It’s like an addiction.
Her hands slide down her skirts to her pussy and she cups it, shielding it from my touch. “Think I’d rather have you inside me,” she says softly. “I feel so hollow right now, and I need to be filled up.”
I groan at the sound of that. I strip off the rest of my clothes faster than I ever thought I could get undressed, and then I’m back on her girly bed, between her thighs. Her skirts are hiked up at her hips, her legs splayed wide, and I grab one knee and lead her leg to my hip.
She immediately hooks it around me, pulling me down to her. “Clay,” she breathes. “My sweet Clay.”
I cover her body with mine and lean in to kiss her, light and gentle. Her lips are soft and taste so good, and what should have been one quick kiss turns into long minutes of nothing more than kissing, over and over again, my mouth caressing hers. “Feels good to know I have all the time in the world to claim you.”
Her smile is shy. “Forever, if you want.”
“That’ll do for starters.” I reach between us and rub the head of my cock up and down her folds, slicking it with her juices.
Her arms go around my neck and she shifts her hips, moving against my cock. “You want me to go on the pill now? I want you inside me with no condom. I want to feel all of you.”
I’m surprised to hear my own wants and needs echoed by her. Just reinforces the fact that we’ve always been perfect for each other, and it’s only our own stubbornness that’s been keeping us apart all this time. “I want to be inside you like that,” I admit, and then take it one step further. “But I don’t want you on the pill.”
“You don’t?”
I shake my head. “I want you to have my baby. I want a family together. Can’t have that if you’re on the pill. Maybe it’s a crazy thought, but the thought of fillin’ you up with my cum makes me feel this primal sort of . . . pleasure.”
Her lips part. “It does?”
Oh fuck yeah, it does. The thought of her takin’ everything I have to give her? “More than you can ever know.”
“And you want a baby?” Her eyes shimmer with a hint of tears. “With me?”
I chuckle. “Well, I don’t want one with anyone else.”
She slaps my shoulder at my poor joke, but her smile is huge. “A family is a big step.”
“I’m ready. I’ve waited seven years for you, Natalie Weston. I’m ready to start our lives together.”
“Me too,” she says softly. “Oh, Clay.”
I drag my cock head up and down her wetness again. “And it ain’t just a ploy to get inside you bareback.”
She giggles, but her laughter turns into a gasp when I sink inside her.
And . . . fuck, that feels like the most amazing thing ever, being in her without a barrier. She’s hotter and wetter than I ever imagined. I feel every tremor that moves through her body. “I want you to come again for me, Nat. While I’m inside you like this.”
She moans. Her hips rise and she gives me a little nod.
I take her hand and press it back on the mattress. I’m covering her and I can look her in the eye like this. Maybe at some point we’ll try a buncha different positions, but there’s nothin’ I love more than gazin’ down at Nat while I fuck her. I start with hard, sure strokes, and without the condom on, my dick feels ten times more sensitive. I can feel everything. Everything. This time, I’m the one groaning and struggling for control as I push into her.
“Pillow under my hips,” Nat pants, and grabs at a pillow above her head, then pushes it toward me.
I grunt and lift our joined bodies up. She knows hers better than I do, and she knows what she needs. I stuff it under her plush bottom and then thrust into her again. “Better?”
Her moan and the way she digs her nails into my shoulders tells me everything I need to know.
I rock into her, harder and faster, the friction between us making the pleasure intensify. When Nat’s cunt starts to tighten around me again, I have to pause and regain my control.
“No,” she pants, squeezing her hand into a fist against my shoulder. “Keep going. I’m so close.”
And I’m far too close. But her urgency fuels mine, and I thrust into her, leaning in to capture her mouth with mine. Just a few more strokes, I tell myself. Hold out for a few more so she can come and then—
She cries out underneath me, and I swallow her cry with my kiss. Her cunt tightens around my cock and it’s like she’s squeezing it with her fist, it’s so tight, and—
And then I’m coming, too. My control is gone and I surge into her, filling her with my seed and giving her everything I’ve got, heart, body, and soul. I’ve never come so hard.
Minutes pass and my breathing begins to slowly return to normal. I’m vaguely aware of my naked, sweaty body atop her, and she’s still wearing her pretty dress that we’ve now thoroughly wrecked. Her virginal bed’s pretty trashed, too. I press a kiss to her damp brow before sliding to one side so I don’t crush her. “I love you, Nat.”
“Love you, too,” she murmurs sleepily.
I hold her against me, tucking her against me, my cock still buried inside her. We’re both sticky from the release but I don’t feel like moving. I just wanna lie here with her, forever.
Well, except that there’s a big wet spot in the bed. “You might wanna wash these sheets.”
“Probably burn ’em,” she says with a yawn. “Hide the evidence.”
“Why hide?” I ask, wrapping a possessive arm around her and restin’ it on one big, bouncy tit. “Your dad’s eventually gonna have to find out we’re together.”
“Mmm, good point. I didn’t think about that.” She peers over her shoulder at me, all soft and sated. “So what happens now between us?”
I think for a minute. “A new contract.”
Her brows go down. “Another contract?”
I nod and rest my chin on her shoulder, tucking my face next to hers. “A marriage one.”
“Oh.” Her voice goes soft. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good. Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” It’s true, too.