Page 78 of The Wrong Groom

“Gabriel…”

There’s more I want to say, but I can’t remember what it was. I can barely think past the feel of him sinking into me. I already know I can take him, but I definitely haven’t gotten fully accustomed to the shock of how big he is yet. Maybe I never will. Maybe it’ll steal my breath every single time, and some part of me hopes it does.

His fingers return to my clit, circling it as he draws out and presses deeper. “Say it again. I love hearing my name on your lips.”

“Gabriel!”

It comes out with more force, a half whispered cry, and he groans into my ear as he rocks his hips forward again, sliding all the way home. Another strangled sound slips out of me as he bottoms out, the pleasure of it so intense that the room goes white at the edges for a second before my vision floods back. My heart thuds heavily against my ribs as I fight to steady my breathing.

He goes still, buried deep, and brushes his lips over my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Holy fuck, yes.” I push back against him to prove it, and he groans.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

The words are low, almost like it’s a private thought that slipped out rather than something he meant for me to hear, and it’s like he plucked the thought right out of my head. I could do this with him a thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Fuck me,” I whisper with a boldness born of desperation. “Please.”

He growls softly, then starts to rock his hips against my ass, burying his cock completely each time as he keeps up the attention on my clit. A stuttering gasp escapes me, and I arch my back to give him better access, to let him in deeper.

Our bodies move like that, grinding and gyrating, our quiet, hungry sounds filling the bedroom. As pleasure starts to spike higher, I turn my head, craning my neck to seek out his full lips in a messy kiss.

“Harder,” I demand against his mouth.

“God, I love it when you get bossy.”

Gabriel nips my lower lip and then shifts our positions, rolling me onto my stomach without pulling out, easy and smooth. His hands close over my hips and draw me up onto my hands and knees, and a thrill shoots through me because there’s a part of me that loves being handled by him like this.

“Is this what you want?” He draws back and then thrusts hard, rocking my body slightly, and a cry climbs up my throat.

“Yes! Oh my god, yes.”

I drop my head between my arms, my hair falling in a tangled sheet around my face, as my hands fist the sheets, twisting them tightly as I hold on for dear life. The smooth drag as he pulls out contrasts with the sharp, fast way he snaps his hips forward again with each driving thrust, and it sends the pleasure inside me spiraling even higher.

“It’s all yours, sunshine, for as long as we’re married. Every inch.” His grip on my hips tightens as he picks up the pace a little more. My back arches, and he rests one hand at the small of it and presses lightly, urging me to arch farther. “God, you take me so well. How the fuck are you so perfect?”

His praise skims over my skin, the overload of sensations making my arms shake. I drop down to my elbows, resting my forehead against the pillow, and just barely manage to swallow a scream as he sinks into me again, cognizant of Peyton sleeping down the hall. He’s so much deeper from this angle, hitting entirely new places that I barely even knew existed. This is a new one for me—not that it takes much for a position to be new—and I’m fairly sure it’s my favorite so far. I hope there are a hundred more.

When I manage to lift my head and glance at him over my shoulder, my heart stutters at the sight of his face. His gaze is fixed on the place where his cock disappears into me, and the look of awe and heat in his expression makes butterflies flap wildly in my stomach. Every new thrust pulls a whimper out of me, and my knuckles are white as I grip the sheets. It feels like I’m unraveling from the inside out.

And I love it.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He grits out the words over the sound of his hips slapping against my ass, but even as he gives me exactly what I begged for, I can see how he stays watchful, reading me and gauging my reactions, holding himself in control. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not—don’t stop.” I can barely get the words out.

He loops a strong arm around my waist and lifts my upper body off the mattress, drawing my back flush to his chest. One of my hands finds the back of his neck, and he kisses the spot where my neck meets my shoulder as he rolls into me, his thrusts slower but no less deep.

Something takes over me, and I twist to catch his mouth with mine, needing to be as close to him as I can get. Our lips and tongues meet, clumsy and urgent, while he keeps moving inside me, working back up to the pace he had going before. I gasp and whimper against his mouth, clinging to him as he holds my hips and drives into me again and again.

“God, yes,” I whimper. “More. Please, more.”

He’s sucking hard on my neck, and I know it’s going to leave a mark. But fuck, that just turns me on more. He doesn’t respond to my plea with words, but his fingers find my clit again, circling so hard and fast that it’s almost too much for my over-stimulated body to handle. It matches the frantic drives of his cock, and somehow, the overall effect has me floating higher and higher, rising inexorably toward a release that I’m pretty sure will wreck me.

“Right there,” I gasp, my entire body tingling. “Right there, right there, right⁠—”

The last word breaks off in a cry that I can’t quite contain, plaintive and broken, as my orgasm crashes through me.