Page 82 of Merry Me
“Nat,” he said quietly, as if he didn’t know whether to worship me or haul me to my feet and kiss me until the walls fell down.
“Shh.” I pressed a finger to his waistband, my tone light,teasing. “Unless you want the entire bridal party to come around the corner and see just how seriously we take tradition.”
His breathing quickened, and a thrill of power surged through me as I reached out, boldly undoing his pants. His gaze burned into mine, full of stunned desire.
“Fuck,” he whispered roughly, sounding beautifully wrecked before I even touched him.
I freed him from his pants, already hard and pulsing beneath my fingertips. He sucked in a sharp breath, bracing a palm against the wall.
“You’re unbelievable,” he groaned softly, eyes never leaving mine.
I leaned in, my lips barely grazing his tip, teasing softly. “You started this.”
His hips twitched involuntarily. “Then finish it.”
I grinned wickedly before sliding him fully between my lips, taking him deep into my mouth in one smooth motion. He bit back a groan, the muscles in his stomach tightening visibly.
His fingers slid into my hair, gripping lightly, a silent plea. His voice was a hoarse rasp as he murmured, “Fucking hell, your mouth feels so good.”
I hummed around him, savoring the way his entire body shuddered, my tongue sliding expertly along his length. I moved slowly, deliberately, enjoying every ragged breath, every whispered curse that fell from his lips.
“That’s it,” he urged softly, guiding me gently with his grip. “You love teasing me, don’t you? Driving me crazy.”
I pulled back slowly, holding him in my hand, looking up at him through lowered lashes. “I seem to remember you being a fan of torture.”
He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. “You’re playing dangerous games, Trouble.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I whispered confidently, sliding my tongue along his shaft, making him jerk forwardagain. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. How good you’d feel in my mouth.”
“Fuck,” he choked out, eyes hooded and dark, his chest heaving. “You keep talking like that, I won’t last.”
I smiled, victorious. “Maybe I don’t want you to last.”
He groaned softly, hand tightening in my hair. “You’re so filthy, Nat. You look so fucking perfect like this.”
I took him deep again, increasing my pace, loving the way he struggled to keep quiet. My hand and mouth worked together, pushing him to the edge with each stroke, every slide of my tongue, every flick and tease.
Easton’s breathing grew rough, uneven. “That’s right, baby,” he whispered, gaze locked fiercely onto mine. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come right here in this hallway.”
I moaned around him softly, encouragingly, desperate to feel him lose control. His grip tightened, hips shifting helplessly.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice tight. “To swallow me down while our friends are right around the corner?”
I looked up at him deliberately, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “I want you to lose it completely. Right here, right now. Give it to me, Easton.”
His eyes darkened, filled with raw need. He guided himself back into my mouth, hips rolling forward, chasing his release.
“You’re gonna swallow every drop, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he rasped, thrusting carefully, his voice strained. “You always were so damn good at this.”
I took him deeper, moaning eagerly, nails digging softly into his thighs, silently begging for it. His breathing turned ragged, his body trembling.
“Fuck, Nat—I’m so close?—”
I increased my pace, my tongue swirling, my lips tightening around him. He bucked helplessly, his head falling back against the wall.
“I’m coming,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck.”
Easton’s release shattered through him, body tensing, hand gripping my hair almost desperately. I swallowed eagerly, every groan, every broken, breathless curse spilling from his lips making me feel like I’d just cracked open something sacred and secret inside him.
