Page 57 of The Heir's Defiance

I drag her into me and kiss her slowly, licking the frosting from her mouth before she can protest. Her fingers tighten in my shirt. The cake box hits the floor.

She’s laughing when I lift her onto the counter, legs parting, dress hiking up. Her thighs press against my hips.

"You dropped the cakes," she says, breathless.

"We’ll order more," I tell her as I lean in.

I kiss her again—deeper now, slower. Her hands cradle my jaw, then slide into my hair. She's distracted, kissing me and pulling me against herself, and I drive my finger into the cake on thecounter next to her—the one with the citrus tang. Icing coats my fingers and I smear it up her thigh, making her hiss.

"You’re a menace," she whispers against my mouth.

"You married me," I counter.

"Not yet."

"Close enough," I purr, kissing her again but slowly backing away.

Her dress rides higher as I grip her hips. She arches into me, lips parted. The teasing’s gone, replaced by something heavier—want layered with heat, trust, and the kind of ache that only comes from waiting too long. I lower to my knees as I hike her skirt up to her hips, and my tongue finds the trail of icing on her skin ready to be devoured.

Nora whimpers as my tongue traces the icing up her thigh, introducing the sweetness to her salty skin. Her fingers dig into my hair, trying to tug me back up to her mouth, but I'm on a mission and she's too far gone to protest much. I can feel the dampness between her legs, evidence of how much this is affecting her. I'm hard now, my dick straining against my pants, demanding release. But I want to draw this out, make her beg for it like she makes me beg every damn time.

I hook my fingers around her panties and pull them down and she doesn’t fight me. The heels of her hands plant firmly on the counter on either side of herself and she lifts so I can pull the silky fabric down and away, and she moans as I lick circles around her clit, feeling it swell under my tongue. She's so responsive, always ready for me and only me. I slip two fingers inside her while my tongue works magic on her sensitive nub.Her taste mingles with the citrus sweetness of the icing, and I growl in pleasure as I feel her pussy clenching around my digits.

"Connor," she pants, head thrown back, hips grinding against my mouth. I love the way she says my name like a prayer, like a curse. "God, baby," she gasps, toes curling on my shoulders as I tease her relentlessly with just the tip of my tongue. "I'm so close… Please."

My fingers work faster, finding the rough patch of skin inside her that pulses and aches to be stroked. She shudders, clenching around my fingers again as the first waves of orgasm crest. Her body jolts and twitches, and I continue to lick and suck until she’s breathless.

Nora's grip on the counter tightens as her orgasm subsides, and her body shakes with aftershocks. I stand up, my own arousal aching to be released. I can't wait any longer. I need her now. I unbuckle my belt and let my pants fall around my knees, revealing my dick that’s rock hard for her.

“Oh, wow,” she pants, pulling me closer, and I drag her to the edge of the counter where my dick taps her core. She moans as I slide in inch by glorious inch until she’s quivering.

She tips her head back, baring her neck to me, and I can't help but mark her as mine—every time—with a deep, dirty kiss before I start to move inside her. The counter digs into my thighs and our rhythm is desperate and frantic. "Yes," she moans, fingers gripping my shoulders. "Harder."

I oblige, driving in deep and fast, grinding against her in the most primal way possible. Nora arches her back and wraps her legs around my waist, anchoring herself as she grinds against me with equal fervor. The room spins, and the world narrowsdown to just the two of us. Our lips collide in a sloppy kiss, and I swallow her groans as she holds on for dear life.

She pants into my ear, "I love you," and that's all I need. My orgasm is building, coiling deep in my core, ready to consume me when she squeezes her inner muscles around my shaft. I groan as the sensation drives me over the edge. I hold her close, almost lifting her off the counter as I flood her. Her nails leave imprints on the back of my neck, but I don't care. All I can feel is her all around me.

We stay that way for a while—both of us breathing hard, limbs tangled, her forehead pressed against mine. The world has quieted, softened around us. I slide my hands along her back, steadying her as she finally shifts, laughter still caught in her throat.

"You want a beer?" I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. "I can’t."

I pull back just enough to frown. "Why not?"

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans sideways, reaching for something behind the remaining boxes. A small white container sits there—neatly labeled, tied with a thin blue ribbon. She places it between us as I pull out and let my dick slap my stomach. Before taking the box, I tuck myself away and zip up, then pull her skirt back down.

"What’s this?" I ask, my voice dropping.

She lifts the lid, revealing a single cupcake inside. The frosting is baby blue, piped high in soft peaks.

My eyes snap to hers.

She smiles, soft and almost shy. "I was going to wait. But I couldn’t. Not after that."

I blink. "Are you serious?"

She nods, tears threatening behind the grin. "I hope it’s a boy. But I’ll be happy either way."

I reach for her, wrapping both arms around her waist as she holds the cupcake in its box high overhead. My mouth finds hers again, capturing her giggle, less wild this time. The kiss is slower and fuller.

"You’ve already made me the happiest bastard on the planet," I whisper against her lips. "But this… this just wrecks me."

She laughs, head falling to my shoulder. "So… no to the beer?"

"Definitely no to the beer," I murmur, kissing her temple. "But yes to everything else."

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