Marrying Mr. Majestic Read Online Lucy Lennox

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, GLBT, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
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“Yes,” I confessed against his mouth. “I’ll be yours, Way. Only yours. Yes.”

“Mine.” Way cupped the back of my head and pulled his lips away until just our foreheads stayed pressed together. Then, he moved far enough away to meet my eyes again. “Thank fuck. I’ve never needed someone like this.”

He didn’t wait for a response, which was probably a good thing. Instead, he moved his hand down to guide himself to my hole so he could press inside. After the tension of the previous moment, it took me a few seconds to relax again, and then he let out the most debauched sound from his throat as my body accepted him.

“Oh Jesus, Silas.”

It was tight. The man wasn’t small, and it had been a very long time since I’d bottomed for anyone. I focused on breathing through the burn, but I felt sweat break out on my face and back.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping for a moment to flash me a look of concern.

I nodded and cupped a hand behind his neck, moving my fingers into the hair at his nape. He was incredibly sexy. Flushed skin, wild eyes, and quick, panting breaths.

He moved again, in and out, thrusting deeper inside of me until it felt like he was filling all the empty space I had to give. “You feel fucking amazing,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I’ve never… this… fuck.”

Words I wouldn’t let myself speak aloud flitted brazenly through my mind as his body took complete control of mine.

Mine. Now. Forever. Again. More. Husband.

It was a fairy tale. Not real. Not actually mine to keep. But I would enjoy it while I had it. I would make love to him in the dark of night without letting on that this meant more to me than I’d intended. Without letting him know that while he may have only fucked four people in his life, I’d only ever made love to one person.

A beautiful, broke, brazen cowboy from the corner of nowhere. A golden boy, majestic and true.

As he continued to thrust in and out of me, I gave over parts of myself I’d never shared before. It wasn’t a conscious decision. If I’d had a choice at all, I might have made a different one. But I was completely at the mercy of the pull he had over me.

I didn’t give him my heart and soul so much as he fucking took it with every whispered word out of his mouth, broken groan from his throat, and slide of his body into mine.

Way struck just the right spot inside of me and battered it until I came with a shout that echoed in the small house. With a few more strokes, he came on a stuttered cry and pressed so deeply against my body I wondered if he was trying to imprint himself on me forever.

We didn’t speak afterward. Cleanup was a silent affair, as if neither one of us wanted to break the precious and fragile stillness around us. When we got back in bed, he curled up against my side and rested his head on my shoulder, turning toward me to press a kiss against my neck before letting out a breath.

Then he was asleep. And I spent the next four hours watching the moonlight move across his skin while wondering how I was ever going to recover from the shock of falling in love.

TWENTY-THREE

WAYLON

The next morning, I woke up feeling like a bag of old bowling pins.

“Fuck,” I whimpered as soon as I tried to roll over.

“Baby, stay still. Let me get you some pain medicine.” Silas’s morning-gruff voice came from behind me. His hand slid off my stomach as he moved to crawl out of bed.

Memories of the day before flashed through my sleep-crusted brain. Roundup. The fall. The tight squeeze of my husband’s ass around my rock-hard cock.

I’ll be yours, Way. Only yours.

I groaned at the delicious memory of it. Poor Silas misinterpreted the noise.

“Coming. I’m coming. Just grabbing a glass of water.”

“Want to fuck you again,” I admitted, opening my eyes in time to see him stop in the archway and blink at me.

“Beg pardon?”

“You heard me.” I tried to sit up and winced at the soreness in my side and hip. “Correction. Maybe you could ride me. I’d just lie here like a potato, and you could use those thighs of yours to do all the work.”

His mouth widened into a grin. “You must not be on the verge of death if you can still proposition me for sex.”

I took the medicine and water from him and swallowed them down. “Definitely in pain, but half of it’s coming from my dick.”

After Silas took the glass from me and set it safely on the kitchen counter, he crawled into bed and peeled back the covers, revealing my morning wood. “Oh, hello. I see the problem here.”


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