Page 29 of Accidental Vegas Vows

His pupils blew so wide I couldn’t see a hint of blue in the darkening room. But he gave me what I asked for.

In an instant, we were moving, his cock slipping out of me as he turned me onto my front. Large hands grabbed at my hips, lifting them up, forcing me onto my knees with my face buried in the sheets, his legs between mine. For a split second, I felt so intensely exposed, but then he was sliding back in, hitting me at entirely new angles I’d never felt before from any toy.

“Oh my God.”

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, and memories flickered in my mind from when he’d said the same thing to me on the private balcony of the Mandalay Bay. I followed his instructions, letting my hand slip between my thighs.

My fingers ghosted against the topside of his cock as I swirled them over my aching clit, and something in him snapped.

His onslaught began.

He fucked me almost punishingly, every strike of his hips setting off little wildfires in my veins. His nails dug into the skin of my ass, little bursts of pain heightening every pleasurable sensation and doubling it, tripling it, coaxing more moans and sobs from my lips.

But it was when he reached forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging back to lift my head, that I lost my mind, too. “Watch,” he rasped.

Straight ahead of me, I could see us both in the mirror.

I could see the look of pure satisfaction and pleasure on his face, the way his muscles contorted with every drive of his hips, the wreck that I was turning into beneath him. Makeup smeared and mouth parted, I could watch myself, the way my face looked when I moaned, the way my body molded to him, the way my breasts pressed into the mattress. The way my lips moved as I whined his name.

But more than any of that, I could see the way he saw me, the way he looked at me with a mixture of pride and greed, the way that I turned him on by just existing.

My release hit me out of nowhere.

Every part of me broke, my body shaking as wave after crashing wave of ecstasy invaded my system. It was too much of everything at once, and my fingers stilled, his hips stuttering, my muscles contracting and releasing around him. It was better than any orgasm he’d given me in Vegas, and those had been better than any I’d given myself. I could barely focus on our reflection, but I found him, found the way he watched me in awe, found the way he grinned as if he found pleasure in my release.

God, everything made so much sense.

Slowly, achingly, he released my hair and let my head fall back down, his movements choppy, his hands grasping my hips instead. I pushed back into him with every thrust, but I could barely control myself anymore, could barely feel a thing beyond his cock inside of me and his hands on me.

And then he stopped, one last groan coming from him.

Warmth flooded me, heating me inside more than he had before. Damien breathed heavily, his fingers twitching as they moved along my sides and my spine.

“You,” he said hoarsely, “will be the fucking death of me.”

Chapter 10

Damien

Three days.

Three days, and she somehow hadn’t left my mind. I’d had my fill of her, and she should have been erased — she shouldn’t have lingered in my thoughts the way she had been. But she’d been exhausted after and although I’d offered to let her stay the night, she’d left after signing her name where I needed her to.

The moment she went out my door should have been the moment I felt satisfied.

But it hadn’t, and so as I stood in the middle of the room at the vintage watch auction thoroughly unimpressed with the selection this time, I couldn’t help but imagine how she’d felt wrapped around my cock. I couldn’t help but imagine all the ways I wanted her to do it again.

The man behind the podium read out words at a fairly normal pace this time, giving my mind room to wander. Fifteen thousand, do I hear fifteen thousand? Fifteen thousand. Going once, going twice. Sold! It blurred into the background as she filtered in, that fucking look on her face as she watched me in the mirror, her features contorting as her walls collapsed so fucking heavenly.

Three days of this torment, on top of the ones I’d spent pining after her since Vegas.

I’d gotten my work done. I’d given our signatures over to Ethan. But I hadn’t done a damn thing about Noah.

I was a week and three days out from his arrival, and yet, I’d bought nothing. I hadn’t prepped. I hadn’t even Googled how to be a fucking parent. I’d been so caught up in Olivia that I hadn’t even focused on my now-confirmed son — I hadn’t even given myself space to process the fact that he truly was mine. My schedule had taken control because I couldn’t police myself on it, and so I stood at the vintage watch auction, not even bothering to place any bets because none of them truly called out to me, because it was something I’d added to my calendar.

I need to add an hour somewhere for processing a child and another for online shopping.

I left empty-handed, my mind filled with white noise and indifference. The setting sun between the reflective buildings in Mission Bay made me squint, the warm, golden hue almost too much after being cooped up in the auction house for hours. The cool breeze carried the scent of salt from the nearby harbor and the hum of city life, honking cars and shouting voices, but beyond that, wrapping around the buildings as I turned the corner, the laughter of children.

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