Page 126 of Merry Me
There was a beat—one breathless, suspended second—where her eyes were soft with sleep and the shadow of dreams. Then I saw it. The shift. The flash of awareness behind her eyes as everything came back. The lodge. The porch. Her father. The tears. The way she’d fallen apart in my arms and let me hold every broken piece.
I braced.
Tensed, ready for her to pull away, to roll over, to say something sharp and self-protective like she had so many times before.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t move. Didn’t retreat.
Instead, her brow smoothed slightly. Her shoulders rose and fell with one long, heavy sigh.
“It’s the big day,” she whispered, her voice scratchy and soft, her breath warm against my skin.
I nodded, careful not to move too much. “Yeah. It is.”
Her eyes searched mine for a moment longer, like she was checking to see if I was still the same. Still safe. Still here.
Then without a word, she leaned up…and she kissed me.
Slow and quiet and full of things she hadn’t said yet.
I kissed her back, my hand cradling the back of her head like she was something fragile and holy and real, and I wasn’t about to let her slip through my fingers.
She pulled away with a small, reluctant sigh and reached toward the nightstand, grabbing her phone. The screen lit herface with a soft glow, and I saw the exact moment her expression crumpled.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “I have to start getting ready soon.”
I brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, my hand lingering. “Cold reality setting in?”
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as something mischievous sparked behind them. “Maybe…”
Then she looked back at me, lips twitching. “Or maybe I just need a little…delay.”
My heart skipped. “A delay?”
“A very specific, very hands-on delay,” she said sweetly—too sweetly. And then her hand slid beneath the sheets, fingers trailing fire down my abs, slow and deliberate, until they curled around my cock, gripping me with a bold, possessive squeeze.
“Fuck,” I hissed, my muscles tensing as I throbbed against her palm.
“Natalie,” I cautioned, the word less a warning and more like a plea.
She leaned in, her lips brushing my chest with a slow, sinful graze that stole the air from my lungs. Every muscle in my body coiled tight under her touch, my skin blazing where her mouth lingered, teasing me into a frenzy. Her tongue flicked out, tracing the hard lines of my pecs, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my hips twitching involuntarily.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I rasped, my voice already rough, already hopeful.
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, her tongue carved a torturously slow path down my chest, her hot breath ghosting over my skin as she slid lower, her fingers loosening just enough to drag her nails lightly along my length.
The sensation sent a violent shudder through me, and my hands fisted the sheets, twisting them as I fought to keep from begging. Her lips followed her tongue, pressing open-mouthed kisses down my abs, each one wet and deliberate, her teeth grazing just enough to make me curse under my breath.
She paused just above my cock, her breath teasing the sensitive skin, so close I could feel the heat of her mouth but not the relief I was dying for.
“Fuck, Natalie,” I groaned, my head falling back against the pillow, eyes slamming shut as my body thrummed with need. Her tongue darted out again, flicking against the taut skin just below my navel, and my cock twitched, aching for her to close the distance. She hummed softly, the vibration of her voice against my skin sending another wave of heat through me, and I swore my brain was short-circuiting, one nerve at a time.
“Are you…” I managed, my voice a little strangled. “Trying to use my dick as a distraction?”
She looked up at me, a wicked smile curling at the corners of her mouth. “Do you have a problem with that?”
I pretended to think it over, which was damn near impossible with her mouth so close to where I needed it, her fingers now tracing featherlight patterns along my inner thighs, keeping me on the edge of insanity.
