Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
I’m so fucking happy, I can’t keep the grin from my face. “I’m saying I’m ready to be your real wife.”
He clears the distance between us in a few steps, and I squeal when he wraps me in his arms and pulls me from the bed, my toes barely skimming the carpet. He huffs a heavy breath into my neck. “Fuck yes.”
“I love you, too.” I laugh.
“I meant what I said,” he says quickly, breathless. “You don’t have to keep this one. I’ll exchange it for any ring you want.”
“No way. I love it. There are a lot of memories attached to this thing. Besides, if we ever get stranded somewhere I can use it to signal planes overhead.”
Liam pulls my arm from around his neck and looks at my hand, at the delicate platinum band encircling my finger, at the ginormous diamond twinkling in the fading sunlight. “Maybe we could do it over, though?” he says. “A real ceremony with everyone there. It can be as fancy or not fancy as you want.”
I can feel the heat of his clothed body against my naked skin, and I wonder if anyone has ever felt luckier than I do right now. “Let’s do it,” I say. “But only a little fancy. Not too fancy. Not private-island fancy.”
He smiles against my mouth. “We’ll save that for the honeymoon.”
“Yes, but let’s discuss it later. We failed at divorce sex, but I’ve heard engagement sex is top tier, and you’re wearing way too many clothes.”
Liam kisses me, taking small, stumbling steps until the bed presses against the backs of my knees. Together we undo his shirt, smiling into kisses and laughing as we pull the fabric free from his pants. The sight of his shirt falling to the floor is a starter pistol to my pulse, and I don’t stop until he’s naked and on the bed—broad chest, long athletic legs, and… other things, all gloriously in proportion.
It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve done this—my married-people sex math checks out, by the way—I still never know where to start. His neck? His chest? His legs? His cock? Liam’s body is a landscape of hard lines and sharp angles, and I climb over his legs, wanting to devour every bit of him. Greedy palms map the thick muscle of his thighs and up to the flat plane of his stomach. Once I decided to wear the ring, I also made a nail appointment, wanting to surprise him. Not only will my nails look great in the 387 braggy engagement pics I plan to take, but they have an added benefit. Liam sucks in a breath when he realizes it, too, and I drag my pink-tipped fingertips over his stomach, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to leave four tracks of flushed, pink skin behind.
“Fuck.” He hisses. “It’s going to be like that tonight, is it?”
I nod, making my way down his body to take him in my fist and then in my mouth, my hair falling around his hips. He gathers the strands in his fingers, forcing my chin up. “You going to hide that pretty face the whole time?”
I groan around the length of him and look up his body. I could get drunk on those eyes, on the hunger there, his focus torn between my mouth on his cock, and his ring on my finger. I suck and taste, savoring the weight of him against my tongue, not sure if I want to finish him this way or feel him inside.
He decides for me, his voice a gravelly “Come here” when he cups my elbows, dragging me up his body, and settling me over his hips. His mouth finds mine again, his kisses a distraction for us both as he sits up beneath me and pushes his hands into my hair. Each kiss is punctuated with soft sighs and grunts as I slowly rock above him, the length of his cock sliding forward and back. His hands move to my ass, and he moves me over him in long, slippery slides. Aching want settles low in my stomach, between my legs. He lifts me onto my knees, and it changes the angle just enough that the blunt head of him catches me where I’m wet and open and so, so ready. Liam stills me with a hand to my hip before reaching between us, holding himself at the base and guiding me while I sink down, inch by inch, until I’m not sure where he stops and I begin.
“That’s it,” he says, gripping my ass again in both of his palms. “Just like that.” He kneads the muscle there, pulling me open until he’s seated inside me, and I gasp at the sensation of being so full in some places and so empty in others. I ride him like this, losing track of time as he kisses and fucks me, his hands setting off small explosions along my skin. His mouth finds my neck, my nipples. His groans grow louder in my ear. My orgasm flickers just off in the distance, close enough to reach out and grab, and when he flips me over, hooking an arm under my knee and bringing me closer, fucking me harder, it’s finally there, spiraling through me in shimmering lines and sweeping brushstrokes. A work of art, a masterpiece, finally complete.