Page 38 of Bad Call
My cock immediately thickens, pushing against thezipper of my jeans in a desperate attempt to get to her. Filthy thoughts play like a slideshow in my head, images of me bending her over the bar and fucking her into oblivion only making me harder as the seconds tick by. I have to take several deep breaths, reeling myself in, because now is not the time for any of this. Stella just turned my world upside down in the best way, and I don’t want to miss any of it.
Cheyanne’s eyes go wide with surprise, ping-ponging back and forth between me and my girl. She swallows, clearly humiliated by the fact that she was caught propositioning a taken man by his partner. She doesn’t say a word as she turns away, heading back to her group of friends with Stella’s message heard loud and clear.
I can’t hold back the cocky smirk that tugs at my lips, my stomach flipping with excitement. I feel like a fucking teenager, ready to run up to the railing that overlooks the dance floor so I can let the whole club know who I belong to. Instead, I angle my body so that we’re face-to-face, curl a large hand around her waist, and yank her into me. She lets out a surprised squeal, giggling as I dip down and pepper playful kisses all over her cheek.
“My wife, huh?” I ask, pulling back slightly. I’ve been calling her that all along, but this is the first time she’s said it. Even in the heated moment, it was like music to my ears. The way she claimed me with that monumental title is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. When I’m on my deathbed, I’ll remember how it felt to hear that word roll off her tongue so surely.
She scoffs, attempting—and failing—to stifle a grin. “Whatever,” she says. “She was all over you, so I had to put her on notice. Don’t make it a thing.”
I raise a brow. She’s crazy if she thinks I’d ever let that go. “Not a chance of menotmaking it a thing, Wild Girl. In fact, what do you say we make it official?”
Her brows furrow in confusion, and she blinks several times as my words slowly settle in. I can tell the moment it all clicks, because she looks up at me, shock written in big, bold letters within her deep caramel-brown pools. “What?”
I cup her jaw, my heart beating wildly inside my chest, but I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life…well, at least not since the last time I did this. It may seem impulsive, but it’s not. This woman is my forever, and now that I know I’m hers too, why waste another second?
“Marry me, Stell,” I choke out, everything in the room fading away so it’s only us. “I was born to be your husband, and I’ll spend every day reminding you of how madly in love with you I am. Whatever crazy shit life throws our way, we’ll face it together, just like we should’ve all along. Be my wife for real again, baby. Please.”
Tears fill her eyes, spilling down her soft cheeks. She inhales, releasing it shakily through pursed lips. For a moment, I worry that she may say no. But when her gaze locks onto mine, wordlessly conveying all the love, trust, and certainty in the world, I know we’ve finally made it through the darkness. The clouds that have followed us for nearly eight years separate, letting in the sunlight as she finally replies.
“Yes.”
THIRTY-FIVE
STELLA
“Hurry up,or I’ll fuck you right here on this doorstep,” Emmett says, his lips and tongue heating up the chilled skin on my neck as I attempt to unlock the door. After he proposed at the club, our friends—who had been watching the entire exchange—rushed our way, showering us in hugs and congratulations. We danced and laughed, closing the place down before going our separate ways. Emmett couldn’t keep his hands off me in the back of the Uber, and now that we’re alone, his patience has fully run out.
“Well,” I taunt, throwing my ass back into his erection, “what’s stopping you? Certainly not me—not that I have a say, anyway.” The free use agreement we have with one another has been everything I hoped it would be. He’s taken me in lots of random places, using my body to make himself feel good, no matter how busy I am. It’s so hot that at this rate, I’m not sure I’ll ever put an end to it.
“Fucking hell, Stella,” he growls. “I’m trying to makethis night about you, but keep pushing me, and I’ll drag you right to the street so whoever drives by can see what a needy slut you are.” My clit pulses between my thighs at the thought, his words spurring me to move faster as I try again, finally managing to punch in the entry code. A faintclickechoes in the air, and I twist the handle, pushing my way into the guesthouse. After that, we’re a mess of hands and mouths, touching, kissing, and licking everywhere as we attempt to undress each other. We’re bumping into walls, items from the tables we pass falling and crashing to the floor, but the only thing we’re focused on is making it to the bedroom so we can get the relief our bodies are begging for.
By the time we make it through the doorway, we’re in only our underwear, everything else scattered on the floor wherever it was torn off. My nipples are painfully erect under my bra, the abrasive lace rubbing against the peaked buds and making me squirm. The matching white thong is utterly soaked, sticking to my sensitive skin more every time I rub my thighs together. Emmett’s cock is like stone, pressing against my lower stomach and making me ache with desperation as his mouth continues to devour mine.
“On the bed,” he says, lifting me by the hips and tossing me onto the mattress without even giving me a choice. Not that I need one. I’m exactly where I want to be, splayed out for my man as he looms over me with fire in his eyes. He sheds his boxer briefs in a flash, my mouth watering uncontrollably when his gorgeous cock slaps up against his stomach. I want to taste it, suck it, choke on it until every last breath has been depleted from my lungs.But by the ravenous look on his face as he hungrily removes my bra, I have a feeling that won’t be happening any time soon.
Emmett’s nimble fingers curl around the sides of my panties, working them down my thighs. He brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply as his eyes roll back. “You smell incredible,” he rasps, causing blood to rush between my legs, hammering everywhere as my fingers clench the sheets at my sides. He sees the motion—the way I’m so goddamn horny that I could scream—and tosses the scrap of fabric aside before planting his face exactly where I need him. There’s no teasing. No kissing and nipping to work me up. Instead, he flattens his tongue on my entrance and drags it upward, wrapping his lips around my aching pearl.
“Em,” I moan, the nickname roaring from my chest. “Fuck, baby. That feels so good.” He sucks in tight pulses for several seconds before fluttering gently, the change in pressure driving me wild as my fingers grip the hair at the crown of his head. He uses his thumbs to spread me, pulling the delicate skin that covers my clit away. The cool air in the room mixes with his hot breath, and suddenly, I’m teetering on the edge of my orgasm, ready to be pushed into oblivion like only he knows how.
“Please. Please. Please,” I chant as he ghosts barely-there licks against my exposed nub, the repeated plea obviously falling on deaf ears because seconds later, he’s gone, leaving me a pathetic, whining mess as he stands to his feet. My entire body shakes with need, but he just chuckles, clearly enjoying my desolation.
“Don’t worry, wife,” he says, putting even more unwelcomespace between us as he makes his way to the nightstand, pulls out several toys, and places them on the bed next to me. “My friends and I are going to take good care of you tonight.” The misery I was feeling just moments ago fizzles out, only to be replaced by pure excitement as I think of what’s to come. Emmett and I experimented with vibrators and other items the summer before we went to college, but I’ve built up quite the arsenal since then. I’ve only ever used them on myself—usually while fantasizing about him—so I know whatever happens tonight will be mind-numbing.
I can’t speak, desperate breaths pushing from my lungs as my chest rises and falls rapidly. My thighs are practically glued shut, creating just enough friction to dull the throbbing between them. It’s a battle of wills—me trying to get my mouth to form anything that resembles a request, and him taunting me relentlessly with the unspoken promise of delivering the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
Finally, the words dislodge from my throat, slicing through the air between us. “I need it, Emmett,” I whimper loudly. “Make me come.” I don’t care that I sound utterly pitiful. I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I’ve wanted since we were dancing together at the club. The entire evening was like the most torturous foreplay, culminating with his proposal after I made sure the entire place knew that he belongs to me.
He smirks, the corners of his mouth lifting slowly as he crawls onto the bed, taking a curved vibrator and pressing the power button. It comes to life, buzzing quietly as he starts at my collarbone and drags it downward.
“You’ll come, baby,” he vows as he continues, the soft tip of the toy skating between my breasts and to my navel. “You’ll come so good, you won’t even know where you are. You’ll tell me you can’t go for another second, but I know you, Stell—better than you know yourself. And I can’t wait to spend an eternity making this beautiful body sing for me.”
My legs spread wide, hips lifting from the mattress on their own accord and meeting the vibrator just as he skims it over my clit. I sigh in relief, relaxing when he gives me the perfect amount of pressure, circling the head around my sensitive bundle of nerves as pleasure gathers deep within me. The orgasm that had faded away minutes ago blooms right back to life under his control. It’s everything, the delicious pulsating making me drip, my breaths getting tighter and more rapid as my release barrels toward me. I expect him to pull away—to torment and edge me until I scream—but he doesn’t. Instead, he dips down, pressing soft kisses to my neck while gentle praises ricochet off every nerve ending.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. “I’m the luckiest man in the world. Let go for me, Stella. Let go for your husband.” That’s all it takes for me to detonate, my orgasm slamming into me like a hurricane as I fall into pure bliss. My pussy spasms, contracting around nothing while I ride it out, wave after wave of pleasure washing over me until finally, it begins to ebb away. He turns off the toy, tossing it aside as I slowly float back to awareness.
“I love making you feel good,” he whispers, brushing his lips over mine before he reaches back and plucks another item from the mattress. As soon as it sweeps alongmy slit, gliding easily with how wet I am, I know what it is. It’s the closest I ever came to Emmett’s length and girth, although it wasn’t quite perfect. The dildo is dense, yet soft, the texture meant to mimic that of real skin. I’ve fucked myself with it more times than I can count, trying to recreate the way he filled me, knowing I never truly could.
“Mmmmm,” I hum, enjoying the slide of the toy along my seam. He enters me slightly before pulling back, but the stretch is just enough to have me desperate for more as I whimper quietly. He obliges, feeding it into me inch by inch until the base is flush to my throbbing core.
