Page 56 of Bourbon Wishes
"I signed over my stake to you today," he murmurs. "That's what I was doing all fucking day—chasing my family around to get their approval. I couldn't tell you when you asked because I still hadn't talked to everyone. I know I fucked up by listing the position before I talked to you about it, but I didn't plan for shit to happen the way it did. It just took a helluva lot longer to talk to everyone than I planned. They all talk too goddamn much." He looks frustrated by that, as if it surprises him that his family is nosy as hell and probably asked him nine thousand questions today.
"Bastian, I–"
Your future at the vineyard isn't dependent on me any longer, Constance," he rasps before I can figure out what I want to say. "Whether you're sleeping with me or not, whether you agree tomarry me or not, it'll always be yours. You don't answer to me in any way any longer." I stare at him, completely speechless, as he rubs his thumb across my knuckles. "I'll sign over every fucking thing I own if that's what it takes. Whatever I have to do to prove to you that you're the most important thing in my life." His hands shake around mine. "Just please don't leave me, baby. Please."
I choke on a sob, overwhelmed by the sight of him on his knees, fear in his eyes as he begs me—actually fucking begs me—not to leave him. Bastian doesn't ever ask for anything. He demands. He bullies. He bulldozes. But he doesn't ask, and he certainly doesn't beg.
And yet, that's precisely what he's doing right now.
I hate it. This man wasn't made to beg, and he doesn't have to ask me for anything. He…God, he's had me for so damn long already. Even when I was terrified to say it, he had me. Even when I was furious and hurt today, he still had me. And he has me now, too.
I slip off the bed, crawling onto his lap. My arms wind around his neck as I burrow my face into his throat. He chokes on a groan, wrapping his arms around me so tightly it's like he's trying to fuse us into one being. His big body trembles around mine as he buries his face in my hair, his breath a shaky exhale.
"I'm not leaving you," I whisper against his skin. "I was hurt and angry today, but I was always coming back." I inhale a shaking breath. "Even if you didn't want me working at the vineyard anymore, I still would have come back becauseyouwere there."
"Jesus," he rasps, his hands running down my back like he's trying to reassure himself that I'm real or that I'm here, or maybe that I'm not going to turn to smoke in his arms.
I tilt my head back, curving my hand around his strong jaw. I swallow hard as his eyes lock with mine. "Maybe you went aboutthings the wrong way today, but so did I. I should have told you days ago that I love you. I should have–"
He cuts me off with a wild groan, his lips crashing against mine. The kiss is all heat, steam, and desperation, our tongues twining together as my hands sink into his hair and his run all over my body. It's like, now that the truth is out there, we're a quivering ball of need all over again, frantic to touch and consume and burn together.
I'm not even sure which of us starts removing clothes first. I just know that my shirt and bra disappear roughly two seconds before his shirt does. My hands are in his pants half a breath before he's tearing the crotch out of my leggings.
We tumble backward on the plush white rug with him on top of me.
"Jesus, baby," he groans, kissing a hot path down my body. "Bed."
"Fuck the bed," I whimper, bowing beneath him as he shoulders his way between my legs, his breath hot against my sex. I choke on his name as he flicks my clit with his tongue, groaning so loud I'm sure Sutton and Caleb hear him. I'm also sure I don't care.
I need this.Weneed this. Caleb will just have to deal with it.
"Heaven," he growls against my clit, thrusting two fingers inside me. "You always taste like heaven, Constance."
"I know!" I cry, so damn close to shattering. It's his fault. He's using his lips and teeth and tongue, playing me like I'm his favorite instrument. AndGod, he's so damn good at it. A master on his knees, paying homage to his art.
I crack apart in seconds, shattering with a sharp cry. He grunts, burying his face in my pussy like he intends to lick up every single drop I spill for him as I convulse beneath him, thrashing against the floor.
"Damn," he groans when I fall limp beneath him, panting for breath. He crawls up over me, his eyes my favorite shade of dark, devilish green. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his gaze on my face. "You needed that, didn't you, baby?"
"I always need you," I whisper, hooking my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. "Always, Bastian."
His expression softens. He dips his head, his kiss tinged with sweetness this time. He breaks only long enough to allow me to breathe before coming right back for another one and then another. By the time he slips inside me, filling me inch by exquisite inch, I'm breathless and dizzy, so damn high on him I don't ever want to come down.
"I love you," he murmurs, pausing to brush tendrils of hair away from my face. His gaze tangles with mine, the truth blazing in his eyes like twin suns. "I fucking breathe for you, Constance."
"Bastian," I whimper, tears welling in my eyes.
He makes love to me right there on the floor, lifting me to the heavens again and then again. Every single time I fall, I do it with those three little words whispering from his lips.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
They feel like heaven. And he feels like home.
"Are you okay?" heasks later, his hands drifting through my hair as we cuddle in bed, our legs tangled together and my head over his heart. I don't knowwhat time it is. I don't know how many times he fucked me on the floor. I just know that I feel better than I ever have before.
