Page 177 of Beautiful Collide

A primal moan escapes her as I swap off between licking and sucking.

My tongue moves lower, leaving her clit and finding her dripping wet hole. I dip my tongue inside until she’s squirming against me, then I add a finger, replacing my tongue.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

My fingers push, curving upward to find her sweet spot, while my mouth latches back on to her clit.

“What I’d do to fuck you right here. Right now. Fuck. Your pussy is grasping my finger so tight. It’s begging to be fucked by my cock.”

“Just do it already,” she groans, making me chuckle.

“Is that what you want? For me to fuck you?” I press a firm kiss to her again, nipping this time. Driving her crazy.

“You’re all talk.”

“And you’re a needy little girl. But I’ll shut you up.” And with that, I return my mouth to her clit, pretending it’s her mouth and kissing her until she’s a mess.

“I’m coming.”

And she does, on my tongue, just like I wanted.

Fuck, she’s perfect.

And as I told her . . .

All mine.

And when she finally comes down from the high, I can’t help but ask, “Would it be the worst thing to stay married to me?”

“No,” she says sadly. “No, it would not.”

63

Hudson

It’spandemonium in the conference room.

The reporters maneuver for a good position in the room, causing chaos to erupt.

The flash of the cameras is nearly blinding.

We’re here to discuss a new team fundraising campaign that we will be kicking off, but as usual, it’s open season for these vultures.

For the past ten minutes, we’ve barely covered anything we prepared.

Instead, reporters have been firing off personal questions while we dodged them.

Everyone looks pissed, but I’m okay. Seeing as I’ve never had a good reputation, I’m used to it. The PR team has prepped me well. Smile. Joke. Deflect.

Basically, keep them entertained by my stellar personality.

Usually, it’s easy. Today, though, there’s a tightness in my chest I can’t shake, and it’s all because of Molly.

I glance down the line of my teammates, all sitting at the long table with me. Mason’s leaning back in his chair, looking bored as hell.

Aiden’s answering a question about his offseason training regimen with his usual calm professionalism. And Dane—is being grumpy.

I try to focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Molly. It’s been eight weeks since that fateful night in Vegas, eight weeks of looking for an attorney and finding them all lacking.

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