Page 21 of Sacred Vow
She’s heading toward my kitchen, wearing nothing but my son’s shirt, not having realized I’m sitting here. She’s so petite that it’s almost a fucking dress on her, and I can’t help but love it. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the shirt she had on earlier in the night.Tattoos, pretty eyes, and thick thighs.There’s no easy way to put it, the thick thighs part of her shirt is straight up misleading. The part about tattoos is still up for question, but the pretty eyes? Shit, I’ve been held captive under those eyes, and it was the most thrilling night of my existence.
My gaze sails over her body, and as I lift my glass to my lips and take a sip of whiskey, her back stiffens, sensing my stare on her just like she had in the club. She pauses a moment before lifting her gaze and glancing over her shoulder.
She sucks in a breath, and I see the very moment her beautiful cheeks fill with color. “Sorry, I umm . . . didn’t realize you were down here.” I keep watching her in silence, loving the way she squirms under my gaze. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all.”
Tilly gestures toward the kitchen. “Is it okay if I raid your kitchen?” she questions, her gaze darkening as she holds my stare. “We got a little distracted and skipped dinner.”
I lift my glass, indicating for her to go ahead. “Have at it,” I rumble. “There’s plenty of food for you both in the fridge.”
“Thanks,” she says. “It’s just me though. Zeph crashed about twenty minutes ago. I think I, uhhh . . . wore him out.”
A proud smirk rests on her lips as she continues into my kitchen, and I don’t doubt her for a second. Zeph isn’t someone who can easily be worn out. He takes care of himself. He’s at the gym everyday and takes that shit as seriously as I do, but judging by the way Tilly was riding him earlier in the night, I don’t doubt that she has the power to bring any man to his knees. My poor son will be feeling the effects of Tilly Bardot for weeks.
She certainly is a little firecracker, a woman who knows what she wants and won’t stop until she gets it. I like that about her. There’s a fire in her, a pull that excites me, and I can’t wait to figure her out.
Tilly goes about her business, helping herself to my fridge and figuring out something to eat. She bends over as she scoops something out of the lower portion of the fridge, and my eyes become glued to her perfect ass, watching the way my son’s shirt rides up and exposes her creamy skin. She wears a black thong beneath the shirt, and I’ve never wanted to tear something off someone’s body more in my life. To bend her over and glide my tongue through her wetness and feel the way she detonates beneath my touch.
The fuck is wrong with me? Forty-eight years old, and I can barely control myself, but what’s more? I know she’ll fucking love it. She’s young enough to be my daughter for fuck’s sake. But based on the way she slowly rolls her body back up, there’s no denying that this was her intention all along.
This feisty hellcat isn’t here to eat, she came to fuck, and who the hell am I to deny her?
After closing the fridge, she walks over to the counter and puts everything down, her back to me as she searches through my cupboards for a plate. I can’t fucking resist.
Getting up from the couch, I silently pad across my moon-lit living room, my cock already rock hard through my pants. With every step toward her, the beautiful scent of her perfume becomes stronger, and I will to breathe her in, to bury my face in the crook of her neck and become intoxicated by everything that she is.
She hasn’t noticed my movement, and as I reach the kitchen, my need to touch her is almost paralyzing. I take my time, inching closer toward her, and as she shifts her body directly in front of the counter, I step in behind her, caging her against my body.
“Tell me, hellcat,” I purr into her ear as I place my whiskey down on the counter, my other hand dropping low on her waist. “Do you always fake your orgasms?”
Tilly sucks in a breath, her back stiffening against my chest as I lower my face into the elegant curve of her neck and breathe her in. The pulse at the base of her throat is thrumming, beating wildly just like the heavy thump of my heart. She smells devine, an angelic mix of sex and roses.
Her body quickly relaxes, and when she pushes her ass back against my cock, I grind against her, my fingers tightening on her waist. “I would never,” she says on a whispered breath, her hand coming down over mine on her waist.
“Don’t lie to me, Tilly,” I growl, guiding both our hands to the front of her hip before sailing lower. I keep going until my hand cups her pussy over her thong, and I grind the heel of my palm against her clit. “I know how you sound when you come. The way you catch your breath, the way you cry out. I pay attention. You can’t hide from me. The last two times you let my son rail this sweet little cunt, you faked it. Why?”
She swallows hard, and I watch the slight bob of her throat. “Do you always get this grouchy when a woman lies to you?” she asks, her hips rocking to create friction between my palm andher clit as she reaches behind her and palms my cock through my pants. “Or is it just faked orgasms that gets you particularly worked up?”
Even through my pants, her hands are like magic on my body and I press into her harder, already feeling her wetness begin to seep through her thong. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Or what?” she pushes. “You’ll bend me over this counter and fuck me raw? Spank me until my ass is brighter than a cherry-red Ferrari?”
“I’m going to fuck you either way, Tilly. Don’t pretend that’s not exactly why you came down here, but I’m not going to give what you’re so fucking wet for until you give me what I want.” My other hand circles her waist before trailing up through her breasts and curling around the base of her slim throat. “Now. Don’t keep me waiting. Why did you fake your orgasms?”
Tilly turns to liquid under my hold, her body so perfectly relaxing into mine as my fingers dance around her throat. “I don’t usually,” she admits. “Only when I care enough not to hurt their feelings.”
“How do you mean?”
“I didn’t want him to know he wasn’t getting the job done, because the truth is, Zeph’s amazing. He could fuck any woman into submission, and if I wasn’t so preoccupied thinking about just how nasty I could be getting with someone else, he would have more than taken me there.”
“You care about him?” I ask, grinding my heavy cock against her hand, more curious about this creature than ever before. “Enough to not cross this line?”
Tilly shakes her head as though almost ashamed to be admitting it. “I only met him today. He’s an amazing guy, and a lot of fun, but I don’t owe him exclusivity.”
Excitement sweeps deep in my gut, and I pull aside the material of her thong before sliding two fingers inside her sweetcunt. Tilly gasps before melting against my chest, her body already weakening. “That’s right,” I murmur. “You like that?”
“Oh God. Yes,” she breathes, her hand clutching my wrists as my fingers work her body.
