I swallowed hard. His gruff voice would have supported the idea of him being mad, but the hunger in his eyes, the way he shifted his body with every move toward me made me think he was after something very different. Me.
Rounding the corner of the bed, he closed in. “So explain to me why, standing in my shirt, next to my bed, in my penthouse, do I want you more than I have before?”
Breathing was proving more difficult the longer I stayed near Preston. There I stood, no makeup, tangled hair, and he made me feel more beautiful in that moment than the entire evening I stood by him in a designer gown.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
He cupped my hips. Fisting the material, he slowly tugged the shirt up, exposing more of my thighs.
“Maybe things are different for you now.” My voice trembled.
His eyes were fixed on the hem riding higher and higher. “No. You are different.”
His mouth hovered over mine and the crisp smell of him engulfed me. Placing my palms on his hard stomach, I lifted to my toes and pressed my lips against his.
A small groan vibrated down my throat. I kissed him like I had been wanting to for the past five hours. Like I did the night we first met. Planning the wedding, running errands and adapting to the contractual life we’d set up melted away. It was just us. And we knew the truth. Wrapping my arms around him, I pulled him closer. Desperate to hang on to this moment. Hang on to him.
“Megan,” he growled between laps at my mouth. His big body gently pushed against me and I fell back on the bed. He was over me in a heartbeat, kissing my neck. His warm hands slid up my thighs and gripped my panties, slowly trailing them down my legs and off.
Moving that amazing mouth lower, he bit at my nipple straining beneath the white cotton. I jolted from the delicious sting.
“We’re going to keep this on,” he said, tugging more of the shirt, and my breast, between his teeth. A sharp sizzle of lust coursed through my veins. “Because the next time I wear it, I want to picture you,” he sucked hard on my other nipple, wetting the material covering it, “like this.”
I gripped his shoulders, willing him to continue. Anything he wanted, I’d give him, so long as he just stayed with me. Stayed right there, holding me. Surrounding me with his warmth. His affection. I didn’t care what that meant. Didn’t care that this man had already consumed such a big part of me in a short amount of time. None of it mattered. Because he was more than anything I had ever experienced. Made me feel like I was beyond the person I was.
“Want you,” I whispered. “More.”
With his face buried between my br**sts and delivering licks and nips of pleasure, I reached down and fumbled with his pants, finally working them off his legs and to the floor.
His hard c**k pressed against my inner thigh and burned me like a hot steel rod. I needed him. Inside me. Part of me.
“Please Preston. Now.” My voice was more like a sob, begging for the connection I had been missing from him.
“You’re not ready.” Fists on either side of my head, he rose up and kissed me hard. Delving his tongue deep in my mouth then retreating, mimicking what his intentions were. Gripping his wrist, I pulled his hand to my mouth and sucked his fingertips.
He growled and took his newly wetted fingers, reached between our bodies and rubbed the head of his cock, moistening it.
“You drive me crazy,” he grated, positioning himself at my entrance.
“Good,” I whispered. Because he was taking over my mind completely.
He thrust hard, seating himself to the hilt in one stroke. I hissed a breath. It was a tight fit, but it felt so good. He felt good. Wrapping my legs around him, I cupped his face in my palms and kissed his chin, his nose, his cheeks. Wild and out of my mind for him, I just wanted to touch him, taste him everywhere.
He grabbed my wrists and yanked them over my head, pinning them into the mattress. He rocked in and out, his chest scraping against my br**sts causing the barrier of the shirt to ride up. A surge of wetness rushed, making his c**k slide easier within me. I was already on the brink.
“Not yet,” he growled.
In one quick movement, he withdrew from me, rose to his knees and flipped me to my stomach. Lifting my hips, he positioned me so that I was on my hands and knees, my ass high in the air. He threw the hem of my shirt up so more of my bottom was exposed and gripped my hips.
“You’re going to come when I’m deep inside you.” He buried himself once more into my pu**y.
“Oh, God!” My finger dug into the sheets.
Preston’s strokes quickened. Pumping in and out, hitting that spot over and over. My inner walls clamped down on him, ready to erupt from the pleasure he was driving into me. He grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me up. Never severing the connection, I straddled his thighs, my back against his chest, and gave myself up to his desires.
One strong arm wrapped around me, just below my br**sts. He held me flush against him while his other hand came around to rub my aching clit. Heat surged and I was on the edge of losing myself. My body. My mind. All of it to him.
“Now,” he nipped my earlobe, “you can come.”
His hips shot up and plunged even deeper while his fingers worked the sensitive bundle of nerves in fast circles. I catapulted over the ledge so hard and fast that my vision went blurry and all my muscles tensed and relaxed over and over in a mind-blowing orgasm. My head fell back against his shoulder and I cried out his name as the pleasure continued. He didn’t stop and I loved every slide and retreat of his thick cock.
His body hummed, his gripped tightened. He bit down on my neck and a low growl shot from his throat as he came inside me. Hot and heady. I felt whole. Warm and wanted from the inside out.
But when he didn’t loosen his grip, just kept me close, I turned my head enough to kiss the base of his jaw. The last thing I heard was him murmuring my name and asking, “What have you done to me, Megan?”
I sank back into the water and closed my eyes. Resting my neck against the edge of the bathtub, I let the bubbles dance around me and soothe my skin. It had been a long day. Not particularly bad, but long.
The last week had been great. He worked a lot and while we only saw a bit of each other in the mornings and evenings, progress was being made. Everyday things seemed more real. Felt more real.
It was late and once again, Preston still wasn’t back. I didn’t know why I was tired lately. The list of things I had to do was growing daily, but my energy seemed to be lessening. Number one on the “to do” list was tell people I was engaged.