Page 12 of Accepted Precedent
Except, she can never truly be mine. She’ll be walking down the aisle to the man I love. This has to be the last time I touch her, or everything my brother and I have worked for will be for nothing.
One last taste, then I’ll walk away.
I lift her off of me and roll her onto her back, pressing two fingers inside her as I lower my mouth to her clit. I play her like a damn fiddle as she writhes beneath me.
No. I can’t walk away from her after today…
“Right there, I’m so close,” she moans, and I continue the same pace and pressure until her sweet cunt squeezes my fingers. I don’t let up as she shatters for me, coating my beard and the linens beneath us.
“One more, angel,” I selfishly demand, pulling my fingers for another taste of the three of us together before pressing them back inside her. “Give me one more.”
“It’s too much,” she whimpers. “I can’t.” Her actions conflict with her words as she grips my hair and tugs me closer. She grinds against me as I lap at her swollen clit, and I can’t help feasting on her like a starved man. In mere minutes, her second orgasm crashes over her, making her cry out my name.
My. Name. Not Andrew’s, not some arsehole ex or a guy from the bar—my fucking name.
And fuck, it’s music to my ears.
“That’s it, angel. Scream to the world who made you come so fuckin’ hard.”
As much as I love tasting her, this has to be the last and only time I’ll have her like this. I move up her body and slide my already-hard cock inside her, but her cunt fluttering around me has me aching to come again.
As she catches her breath, she wraps her legs around me, digging her heels into my back. A devilish grin tilts her lips. “Fill me again…Daddy.”
My little brat is fucking with me, but I couldn’t care less. My mouth crashes onto hers, and I’ve lost all control, roughly fucking her until the headboard knocks the wall with each thrust. She rakes her nails down my back, her sweet moans spurring me on. Part of me wants to spend the rest of the day in bed, worshiping every inch of her. I’ve never felt desperate like this—ever. Even with Andrew. I thought I loved him with my whole heart. But now? A small piece of it belongs to this wicked angel beneath me. I want both of them.
Our tongues duel for the upper hand, and as she bites down hard on my lip, I groan, “Come for me, and I’ll fill you.”
As if on command, she tenses and whimpers, “I’m…oh, fuck,I’m close.”
The moment her cunt quivers around my cock, I’m lost to my own release, thrusting every last drop deep inside her. Slowing my pace, I manage, “Fucking hell, angel. You’re perfect.” I stop short of confessing I’m hers, even if it’s true—it’ll only make it harder to walk away.
“Brussel sprout.”
I freeze, then pull out of her. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
A small tear escapes the corner of her eye. “No. But you’re going to.”
“What do you mean?” I brush it away, and another falls.
“I think you know what I mean.”
I want her. I can’t have her. And there’s no reality where I can keep her.
I close the distance and seal my lips to hers, selfishly needing to prolong every last second with her. Unlike our fevered power struggle, her kisses are bittersweet. She doesn’t have to explain with words—we’ll break each other’s hearts if we do this again. Still, my words tumble from me, “No matter what happens, I’m yours, angel.”
“You’re not. You’re Andrew’s.”
“And he’s mine. But, Evie, after that…” I brush her hair away from her damp forehead. “I’m also yours.” I sit back and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her as I breathe her in.
She nestles her face in the crook of my neck and whispers, “What happens now?”
“As much as I hate to do it, I have to let you and Andrew go—at least until after the election.”
“Then what?”
I slide my hand into her hair and tug gently until she’s looking at me. Her eyes are glassy as I insist, “Then you’re mine, angel.”
Evie huffs a humorless laugh. “You say it so matter-of-factly.”
