Page 189 of The Christmas Wife

"Wes?"

The tick-tock of the clock grows louder. My fingers clench; a bead of sweat slides down my back. I drag my mouth up and to her face and kiss her deeply. She opens her mouth to me, and I thrust my tongue inside. I drink from her, that addicting, honeyed essence of her, mixed with the taste of her cum. My belly trembles, I dig my knees into bed, ease a finger inside her channel and bear down.

"Weston," she screams, "Oh, my God, Wes."

More, I need more.I need her warmth, her happy-go-lucky nature, her sass and fire. I need all of her, subsumed into me. I need her to ground me. I release her lips, then reach up and tear the blindfold from her.

She blinks, then her gaze narrows on me.

"What's wrong?" she asks. "Wes?"

"Nothing." I mumble.

"Something is."

"I need..." I frown.

"Me, take me, Wes." Her chest heaves, "Please, baby, come inside me."

Her blue eyes gaze into mine, the silver sparks in their depths similar to the sapphire I'd bought her... Except she is here, vital, real... Nothing else in my past, or my future, matters. Only her.

I loosen the drawstring on my pants, then grasp my dick, and notch it against her wet opening.

"Amelie." I brush my lips over hers. "I love you," I say. "I love it when you smile at me. I love it even more when I am the reason for your smile."

Those sappy words? Yep, that's me. Alphahole extraordinaire felled by a woman who is the sassiest, brightest, most special woman I have ever met.

"Oh, Wes," she sighs, "I love you too."

I slide inside her; she trembles. I stay there, allowing her to adjust to my size. I ease my tongue inside her mouth, tangle my tongue with hers, bring my other hand up to untie her bindings. She wraps her arms about my shoulders, pulls me closer. I prop myself on one elbow to keep my weight off of her. I hold her gaze, keep the connection, as I pull out of her, then thrust back in. Her pussy clenches around me. She digs her fingers into the back of my scalp, tugs on my hair. My cock jerks, thickens, and I begin to fuck her in earnest. In and out of her, as I slide a finger inside her backhole.

She groans and I swallow the sound, continue to kiss her, as I kick my hips forward, impale her to the bed. My balls harden, a pressure building in my groin. I don’t stop. I thrust into her, again and again. She arches her spine, pushes up to meet me. Locks her ankles around me, flattens her breasts against my chest planes, strains against me, consumes me.

The ticking of the clock fades. I tear my mouth from hers, "I'll never get enough of you. Not until every inch of you is married to every inch of me, and not even then. Not until I've broken you completely, and myself. Until every part of you bears the imprint of me, every cell in your body recognizes that you are mine. Mine. Only mine, you get me?"

She nods. "Only yours," she whispers. "Always yours, love you Wes?—"

I kick my hips forward and bury myself inside her with such force that the entire bed shakes. The headboard slams into the wall; somewhere something crashes to the floor. The timer rings as I growl, "Come with me, Princess."

Her mouth opens in a silent cry. She holds my gaze as she shatters, as her body trembles under me, as my orgasm takes hold and I come inside of her.

Her chest heaves, sweat beads her upper lip, and I bend down and lick it up. "Yum." I smack my lips. "How the hell do you manage to taste so sweet?"

"How the hell do you manage to turn sex into an orgy each and every time, my love?"

"Hmm." I bump my neck to hers. "Love it when you talk dirty to me, babe."

"Love it when you—" She blinks. "Did you hear that?"

I frown, "What?"

"Did somebody call your name?"

I angle my head, "Don’t hear anything."

I reach down to kiss her again, when, "Weston, where the fuck are you, arsehole?" Damian's voice reaches me from the direction of the doorway.

I groan, "The fuck?"

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