Page 69 of Bourbon and Proof

Chapter 28

Hadley

May: The smell of oak, oranges, and orgasms

The real perk to this marriage, outside of breakfast made daily and copious orgasms, is waking up next to Atticus Foxx.Why does he smell so good?Maybe I never truly appreciated the weight of a man’s body, or perhaps it’s the faint smell of him and me lingering in his hair—sex and oak. Damn, I wouldn’t mind bottling it up and saving it for later.

He twitches, and then his tensed muscles relax as he hums against my neck. “Are you sniffing me?”

“Pinch me,” I say, smiling.

As he lifts his head to look at me, his hair a tousled mess, scruff longer, and eyes puffy with sleep, it’s stupidly sexy to see this man disheveled and barely awake. His cock’s hard, pressed against my calf with the way he’s sprawled over me. Leaning down, he drags his teeth along my bare shoulder, and then moves his arm down, pinching my outer thigh.

“Just needed to make sure this wasn’t a lingering fantasy from a really great self-induced orgasm.”

“Have I been a part of many of those?” he asks, resting on an elbow. Those gray-blue eyes become more aware of my naked body as he licks his lips and draws the pad of his thumb under the curve of my breast. Back and forth, and ever so lightly.

“More than I should ever admit.”

At that, his lips tip up. “Good,” he says before he leans down and licks across my breast. His teeth drag along my warm skin just before he draws my nipple farther into his mouth. I’m painfully aware of how wet and needy nipple play makes me as his tongue plays with me. Or maybe it’s any kind of play when the other player is Atticus Foxx.

I suck in a breath as his thumb brushes up along the lips of my pussy, up and down. He adds the slightest pressure, just enough to slip between the lips, reaching my clit and then moving lower.Up and down.

With his eyes locked on mine, I let out an exhale. My body feels relaxed and ready for whatever he desires. “It’s almost unfair how sexy you are when you’re looking at me like this,” I mumble lazily. He doesn’t say anything in response, just hums and keeps the same lulling pace as his thumb glides effortlessly up and down. I’m almost certain it’s the single most erotic moment of my life.

The thickness of his cock rubs up against my outer thigh as he shifts his body, moving higher beside me. Draping my leg over his hip, he opens a path to exactly where I need him. And holy shit, do I need him again.

“How many times?” I ask, just as he slides into me, both of us moaning as he stretches me.

He drags his cock back out slowly, just to its tip, as he asks, “How many times what?” Lifting my leg higher, from his hip to his waist, he angles himself deeper.

“How many times did you picture this when you were touching yourself?” I ask as I tip my chin up and absorb how fucking good he feels. The way he fucks isn’t passive or aggressive, it’s confident and curious. He fucks me deep and holds himself there, moving his hand from roaming along my body up to my chin so my eyes meet his.

“I’ve come to the sound of your laugh, picturing your lips on mine, your hands wrapped around my dick, my cock fucking your throat. I’ve fucked my hand just by your smell...”

My eyebrows raise. “Holy hot,” I rush out. A smile lingers on my lips when I praise him this time. “Dirty fucking daddy.”

Kissing my shoulder, he pulls out of me, moving his body from beside me to hover above me. “Say it,” he says as he drags the tip of his wet dick through my pussy.

I hum as I spread my legs wider. “Please, Daddy.” Without pause, he easily glides his slicked cock into me with one slow thrust.

The change in angle and the pressure of his weight on me has him hitting the right spot, so fully that I get lost in it. With his mouth running along my neck, arms holding tight, he fucks me with intention.

I exhale a breathy plea. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he answers. His voice is strained as he shifts his weight to his knees, gaining more leverage as his hips grind into mine. Holding me tightly, he moves me exactly where he wants, and I push my fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. His forehead rests against mine, breath labored when he says, “I’m going to fill this pretty little pussy and you’re going to moan my name when I do. Got that, sugar?”

“Yes,” I gasp as he fucks me harder. My body feels weightless. Tingled sensations heat my skin, and I can barely hold off what I know will be an orgasm that’s going to wreck me. His body jerks, and he fucks his hips forward twice more before he moansa loud and deep groan. The change in rhythm pushes me to the brink, and I moan the simplest answer to what he’s asked. “Yes, Daddy.”

My orgasm barrels through my body, and I suck in a breath, barely registering the way my thighs shake and the sounds I make. It’s not until we’re both breathless, slightly delirious, and momentarily speechless that I realize, there’s no coming back from this.

And I can’t stop smiling about it.

May: ...orgasms that end with heavy breathing and permanent smiles until sleep takes over. Nipple play, being called sugar, and screaming out “Daddy” while the world’s sexiest man moans against my ear. Perfection.

I scribblesmall stars around the words I just wrote. It’s a page I know I’ll come back to repeatedly throughout my life. It’s the laziest day I’ve ever had with another person. Getting lost in the low music that’s playing on the record player I brought from my apartment, Ace’s fingers roam along my thigh as he checks emails on his phone. If anyone were watching this right now, it would look very coupley and domestic—so out of character for who we are separately, and yet, it feels like the most natural thing being together like this.

It's new for me. Eagerly getting up and moving on with my day is typically how sex ends. If I have an orgasm, it’s good, and if I don’t, then I’ll plot how to get a few minutes in withmy vibrator before I have to move on with the day. Even before Hawk, it was like that. A couple of sexy encounters, but fleeting.

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