Page 122 of The Proposal Pact
No matter how wrong it is. For this year. Just this year, I want to bask in her color as much as possible. Because that’s all I could have.
Right?
Before her feet can touch the sand, I wrap my arms around her waist as I bring her body into mine. “Gotcha,” I whisper into her ear and then wince. “Jesus, you’re freezing!”
“Clover, you promised I won.”
“Yeah, no. I don’t remember promising. That sounds nothing like me.”
“You…” Sophie starts thrashing in my arms—fruitlessly, I might add. And then she starts cursing and threatening she’ll kill me if I don’t let go off and play fair.
Fair…I stopped playing fair the moment I asked her to marry me.
No, I’m not letting go of her. Instead, I bring her into me closer, leashing the relief, the elation at having her in my arms once againand whisper, “You silly, silly girl. As if you could ever run away from me. As if there is a place where I wouldn’t catch you. Now, stop wiggling, I told you once already that I’m not into exhibitionism.”
35
Sophie
“I love you. That’s why I make you miserable.”– Real Women Have Curves
Click, click
Clovers body jerks awake with a sharp inhale when he hears the sounds. His curly blond hair mused with sleep as he tries to lift his head up, his eyes still half shut for a beat longer before he realizeswhyhe can’t lift his head and body up.
“Sophie,” he rasps out, yet the sound still threatening and very much hot.
“Yes, Clover?” I bat my lashes innocently as I run one finger over his naked torso, scratching him lightly, teasingly, and watch in fascination as the whole eight-packof abs flexes.
“Little menace, what are you doing?” He tugs on both his arms, but the handcuffs I put on them, won’t let him do much.
“Oh, you know, just doling out your punishment for breaking the rules last night.” I replace my finger with my tongue, leaning over him on all fours, with my ass in the air, wearing those crotchless panties he got me and nothing else, as I drag the tip of it across his skin over his nipple.
And I don’t miss the way his eyes roll back. As he sucks in a sharp, ragged breath. His body as tight as a wire and that beautiful cock, peeking from underneath his black boxers, the tip wet and leaking pre-cum for me.
“Sophie,” he growls, thrusting his cock in the air, silently begging for more.
“Yes, husband?” I flatten my tongue against his nipple again before swirling it around and climbing higher, to his neck. The veins in his arms might pop with how hard he’s straining them.
Throwing one leg over his body, I just barely graze his erection with my pussy, keeping it mostly out of reach, and Clover nearly loses it, cursing. “Fucking hell.”
“Shh.” He swallows hard when he sees my body move up higher, crawling over his abs and higher still, my pussy leaving a trail behind on his skin.
I climb over his handcuffed arms, resting my knees on either side of his head. Clover licks his lips, dragging his teeth across them almost as if he can already taste me, and a shudder runs over my own body at his lust. At the way his hungry eyes eat me up.
But I remain hoovering over his mouth and not just hoovering, rotating my hips right over his face, slowly, sensually and I’ve never heard a more pained groan in my life.
“Are you going to stop torturing me and fucking sit on my face?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Maybe not.” I sink my teeth into one corner of my bottom lip and Clover throws his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes hard.
And then as fast as a lightning, he does this move with his legs that I didn’t cuff—noted for future—wrapping them around my waist and pushes my body down onto his waiting mouth.
“Agh.” I gasp as he sticks his tongue deep inside me while molding his lips to my pussy and moans into me.
He freaking moans tasting me, and I lose all semblance of control over the situation as I grab his blond curls, threading my fingers through them and riding his face without an ounce of shame.
Clover keeps moaning and groaning as he thrusts his tongue into me, and I feel that glorious orgasm right—right—there when we hear a loud, thunderous knocking on our front door.
