AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I abandon the food to go confront Cal. “Who said we’re getting married? Why are you doing this?”
He grabs my hand and pulls me down onto his lap. Gone are all his smiles and crinkly eyes. Instead, I’m pinned in place by a serious deep-blue stare. “I told you already, Harlow. I saw you and I wanted you. I agreed to your scheme because being your pretend fiancé was a step closer to my end goal, which is making you my wife. I’m doing this because I want it and because you want it too.”
I see his kiss coming. I could avoid it, but like a stupid person putting her hand on a live wire just to feel something, I close my eyes and lift my face to meet him. What’s the worst that could happen? I lose my apartment? Lose my heart?
He groans the moment our lips touch, and the whole sound vibrates through me. My nipples prickle. A throb begins to beat between my legs. His tongue sweeps across the seam of my lips and my mouth opens obediently. Then he’s inside my mouth, tasting and licking. One of his hands tangles in my hair, angling my head for the deepest penetration while his other hand explores my hills and valleys. He massages one breast and then the other, thumbing my nipples into tight peaks before traveling lower to the intersection of my thighs.
Like my lips, my legs part immediately. He presses his palm against my pubis. The sound that fills the air between us is from me. It’s a cross between a whine and a moan. We both know it means I want more. I need to push him away, to put an ocean between us, lock myself up so I won’t be able to reach him. I do none of that. I wriggle closer. He responds by lifting me up and swinging me around so I’m straddling him. His free hand urges me closer. I begin to ride him, rubbing my clothing-bound pussy against the steel of his erection. He’s hot and huge even through all these layers.
He no longer has to hold me close with one hand because I’m all over him. My hands are clutching his head. I’m rubbing against his chest and lap like I’m a cat in heat. His hands are clutched around my hips, driving me up and down, closer and closer until the heat that burned at my core has spread to every nerve ending, every minute surface. The flame spirals up and around, consuming me. I break away, crying out as the orgasm splits me in two. I barely have time to take a breath when I’m up in the air.
“Bedroom,” he demands roughly.
It’s my chance to get away, but I numbly point to the hallway on the left. He carries me to the guest room and strips away the covers, all the while keeping me in his grip.
“Clothes off,” he orders.
My fingers do his bidding. I pull off my top and kick off my pants while he unbuttons and unzips and undresses. I suck in a breath at the sight of his nude glory. A museum sculpture stands in front of me, bronzed and cut. There’s not an ounce of softness. He’s chiseled from his jaw to his feet with a six-pack and a V-line so prominent I could sink my teeth into it. Between his legs, his cock juts out proud and ruddy, the tip wet and red.
“I want to suck you,” I cry like an impatient child. I have no idea how I blurted that out, but with him I do a lot of things that I normally don’t.
He tilts my chin up and rubs his thumb across my lower lip, pulling it down. “Open up, then.”
The tip lies heavy on my tongue. I close my mouth around it and let him slide in. He stops just shy of the back of my throat. “Ready?” he asks, stroking the column of my neck.
I don’t know if I’d ever be ready to take in the monstrous stalk he has between his legs, but I want to try. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “I’ll take it easy.”
He inches his way in. His movements are slow and sure. My whole body loosens to accommodate him. I swallow and breathe until he’s filled me up. My sex grows wet, and I become impatient. It’s not enough to have him in my mouth. I need him lower, deeper. Maybe I said something even though my mouth was full. Maybe he read my mind. Maybe we’re connected on some cosmic level which is scary but might explain that instalove thing. He pulls out and drops to his knees. His mouth is on me, searing me to my core. My vision blurs and turns black. I tug him closer and let him ravage me.
I hadn’t even known that I’d been missing this, that I wanted this. It scares me, and I try to close my legs, but he won’t have it. He bites the inside of my thigh and then soothes the wound with his tongue.
“I know what you need, baby. I’ve got you. Let me take care of it.”
He rises up once again and with his heavy cock in his hand, he guides himself to my open body. It hurts when he enters me. I whimper at the sharp pain. He wipes my forehead with his hand. “Shh, I know. You’re so tiny but you’re made for me. Just wait.”
He kisses me, sweeping his tongue along every surface of my mouth while he makes short, even strokes with his cock. His member is too big for me, but paradoxically, I want more. I widen my legs. I score his back with my nails. I push up to meet his strokes.
He leaves my mouth to capture one nipple between his teeth. The sensation travels from the tip to my core, and I cry out.
He murmurs something, his words muffled by my breast, but his rhythm quickens. His hand reaches between us, and his thumb finds my clit. I take him all in, squeezing his cock with the walls of my pussy. I throw my head back and let the wail that was building in my throat escape. “Cal, please…”
I hardly know what I’m begging for, but he knows. He drives into me, harder and harder. The head rubs each tender nerve of my core until the orgasm explodes like a box of firecrackers lit with one flick of a cigarette ash. Stars pop before my eyes. My body goes tight, and then I’m dragged down under, wave after wave of sensation. Hot blood pounds through my veins, swirling and crashing, throwing me about. I land on the shore, weak and breathless.
Through the veil of wet lashes, I stare up at him. His face is harsh, his jaw carved out of granite. I look down to see that he’s still massive, still hard.
“Again,” he commands and flips me over.
Chapter Fourteen
CAL
“How did sex turn my bones to water?” Harlow asks. She lifts an arm off the side of the bathtub and watches it flop back onto the porcelain.
“Is it sex or me?” I lather the soap between my hands and spread it along one leg. Her toes curl and spread as I massage her instep.
“You, I guess.”
I let her foot fall into the water.
