Page 74 of The Proposal Pact
18
Sophie
“Stop being afraid of what could go wrong, and start being excited about what could go right.” — Tony Robbins
There’s a persistent ringing noise somewhere behind me, and I feel a small, frustrated groan build in my throat. Why is there an alarm clock in my house? I thought I got rid of those blasted things weeks ago when I quit my old life.
Unconsciously and mindlessly, I stretch my arm out, trying to find the thing that is trying to wake me from the best sleep I’ve had in years. “Off,” I mumble to myself, trying to burrow back into the warm cocoon I’ve been in.
My nose drags against the pillow, and I stop…because that’s not my pillow.
Noteven close.
My eyes snap open so fast it hurts, and the first thing I see through the loose strands of my hair that fell over my eyes is a large, tattooed arm in front of my eyes. Or rather, underneath my head. Or around me.Oh, hell…it doesn’t matter how I word it! I’m using my fake husband’s arm as a pillow!
The fake husband who is apparently using me as his stuffy toy, because now that I’m semi-conscious I feel a weight of his strong leg over my hip, wrapping fully around me until the foot of that same leg is stuffed in between my legs.
His other arm is wrapped tightly around my waist. My naked waist, since apparently hugging me like a Koala bear over my T-shirt wasn’t an option and he sneaked past it.
Theè mou,that means…a shift my butt just slightly…yep! My butt cheeks are pressed against his morning erection anddear Lord…I stifle a moan…what an erection it is.
No wonder I was warm. I have no idea how we got here, but knowing Clover, he’ll freak the heck out when he realized how we’ve been sleeping. I didn’t need to spend more than a day with the man to understand that he’s got some attachment issues.
Meaning, he doesn’t want any. In any sense. Emotional or physical.
Slowly, I start pulling away from him only to freeze when the arm around my waist tightens. And not only that. It tightens and moves up, up, up…until his large fingers wrap around my small breast, his calloused palm scraping against my pebbled nipple.
I look down, my mouth agape at the sight of my shirt bunched up as his hand holds on firmly to my boob!
Oh, fuck…
I stifle another moan when he squeezes me. Hard. Sending delicious sparks through my body and directly into my center. My now wet and throbbing center.
The sound of the beeping alarm is long forgotten as is my plan to move out of his hold before he wakes up.
“Mmm.” A deep grunt fans over my neck, sending a new wave of goose bumps as Clover burrows his nose into my hair, tightens his hold while pushing his hips into me.
Oh, sweet…I can feel the size and the length of his dick through my thin lacy thong.
I can even feel his throbbing vein that runs through his cock, pulsating into my flesh.
Don’t move, Sophie. Don’t freaking move!Because I swear just one shift of my legs—hell, one breath—and I might come. I really, really might have an orgasm just like this. Just from my fake husband holding me.
And squeezing my aching breast.
And grinding his hard hot cock into my ass.
“Is anybody going to get that alarm? It’s been beeping for hours now!” Grace’s shrill voice sounds from the closed door, breaking through my haze.
I freeze. Even more so than I already was.
Clover sucks in a sharp breath behind me. “Is it just me or did I really hear Grace Colson yelling from the living room?” he asks, his raspy, morning voice laden with sleep.
Great, even his voice is dripping sex this morning. Just great.
“It’s not just you.”
“Fuck.” He sighs, exasperated, but makes no move to…well,move.
