Irresistibly Dangerous : A Marriage of Convenience Romance (Irresistibly Yours Book 5), page 19
It’s only her.
“Georgia.”
She starts, her eyes flashing open, wild and lust-hazy and unbridled with shock. And suddenly those eyes are on me as I’m climbing onto the end of the bed, staring down at her, and how the fuck did I get here?
I go to pull back, to force some awareness into my limbs when she says, “I can’t tell if I’m still dreaming or not.”
My throat thickens. “Were you dreaming about me?”
A jerky nod but now her hands have stilled, though they haven’t shifted from their position.
I start to prowl back toward her, sliding my body up hers and spreading her legs wider as I go. “What was I doing? Tell me, and I’ll tell you if it’s still a dream or not.”
I take the rose in my hand and bring it up to her exposed collarbone, dragging the soft petals along her skin and sweeping them across the swell of her breasts peeking out above the top of the cotton. She shivers, and I watch as she mentally debates this.
“Your face was between my thighs, and you were teasing me with your tongue,” she finally admits in the softest of unsure whispers.
I don’t hesitate before I grip the hem of her shorts and yank them down past her ankles, then toss them onto the floor behind me. I haven’t been able to get the taste of her pussy out of my head since last week in Vegas, and I’m certainly not about to pass up an opportunity now. Not when she’s looking at me, talking to me, telling me she was dreaming about me.
Her hand is still covering her pussy, and I lift her fingers, and slip them one by one into my mouth, and licking her arousal off each of them. I groan, practically losing my mind right here.
“Take off your top. I need to see all of you beneath me.”
My pretty rose peels off her tank top, her tits swollen and heavy, and I lean down and capture one perfect nipple in my mouth, running the edge of the petals around the other. My hand slides down her stomach, my fingers swirling over her heated skin, until I reach her sweet, wet cunt.
“Oh, Georgie, you were already so close, weren’t you?” I slide two fingers straight into her, meeting no resistance, feeling every inch of her slick pussy as it grips me like it already knows my fingers won’t be enough to satisfy, but she wants them anyway.
I’m flirting with dangerous territory here. She woke up horny from a dirty dream, and this is the byproduct of it. She’s letting me touch her. She wants to come. But she hates me, and tomorrow she may regret this.
She shivers as I pump my fingers into her, my eyes locked on hers, unable to tear myself away as I tease the rose along her tits, stomach, and neck.
This is how it used to be. I’d go a few days without her, and then I’d grow desperate, itchy, unable to stand being in my own skin. I’d need her. In any form I could get her. I’d arrive at her school hours before we were set to meet, and I’d plant myself in a position where I’d be able to observe her coming out of class or with her friends, laughing, smiling, living the beautiful, normal life she deserved.
And I’d try—I’d fucking try so hard—to make myself walk away from her. I’d tell myself that everything I was seeing was everything she deserved, but it didn’t matter. I was always interminably hers. Unable to stay away. Needing her—only fucking her—like a drug.
I fall to my forearm, planting it in the bed beside her head, my face hovering over hers. “Look at me while I make you come. This is not a dream. These are my fingers fucking you. It’ll be my cock after that. Look at me and nowhere else.”
She shakes her head, my obstinate rose so unwilling to bloom for me when her body needs it so much.
I capture her bottom lip between my teeth, biting down on it until she whimpers and her nails scratch at my shoulders. “Eyes on me, Mrs. Moore.”
I pull back, using the rose to tickle her, sweeping it all across her skin, down through the valley of her tits and lower, swirling it around her belly button, and then to her mound. The blood red of the rose is such an incredible contrast to the white porcelain of her skin and her eyes, those dazzling green eyes…
God, she truly takes my breath away.
Slipping my fingers out of her, I tickle the rose up and down her slit, mesmerized by the sight of it. She makes a soft, impatient noise, and I smirk at her, but I also want it too badly to tease her and make her wait. Dropping the rose on the bed, I situate myself between her thighs and immediately French kiss the hell out of her cunt. Her hand rips at my scalp, her back arching high in the air.
“Oh fuck!” she cries out, her eyes pinching closed as she grinds up and into my mouth, pressing her body in deeper, seeking more friction.
I smack her inner thigh and then her clit, reminding her how this works, and when those eyes fall right back on me, it’s as if everything inside me is clicking back into place. I lick a dirty path from her asshole, ringing around her opening, all the way up to her clit, where I suck it into my mouth. She’s so very, very wet, and I feel her pussy quiver against me.
I grab her ass in both of my hands and dig my fingers in, using the tip of my tongue to flick her clit. She moans as I trace her pussy with my tongue, licking every inch of her before sliding it deep inside her. Her taste… by God, the way this woman tastes. Like fucking mine.
“Please, Lenox,” she begs. “More. Harder.”
I almost die. Right here. Her sounds and the way she begs me with my name on her lips has me fucking against her mattress. I dive in like a man possessed, holding her open as wide as I can for my tongue and lips and teeth to devour her. I fuck her relentlessly, eating her in a way that lets her know I’ve been starving for her.
I’m going to make her come, taste it on my tongue, and then fuck her into next week.
Two fingers rim her dripping opening, and I slide them back inside her, crooking them to find the spot that will drive her to the next level. All the while my tongue plays with her clit, teasing it, flicking it, sucking on it. Georgia shamelessly grinds into me, her hand still in my hair—her favorite place to be when I do this to her—as her legs wrap themselves around me.
She’s getting close, so very close, and I stare up at her across the valley of her body and find her propped up on her elbows, voyerishly staring down at me, watching me eat her. Her dark, dark eyes and her sweet sighs and moans and the way her teeth bite into her lip and her cheeks flush have me on the brink right along with her.
She’s all I can taste, breathe, smell, and feel. All her. Only her.
I piston faster into her, rubbing her front wall mercilessly, and when I suck her clit back into my mouth, she comes with a loud cry, her body squirming, and her pussy clenching around my fingers. But I’m not done. I want her to come again and again. I suck on her pussy, making her whimper and thrash.
“Ah! Lenox. It’s sensitive.”
I lighten my intensity, but I don’t pull away from eating her. Even as I’m tearing off my clothes blindly while I continue to lick and taste her. Once I’m naked, I give her one last kiss and take her legs and wrap them around my waist, rising up and staring down at her. I grab her tits and squeeze them roughly in my hands before I press them together and lick up the crease.
“Was that what you were dreaming about?”
She licks her lips and nods.
“Do you want me to stop?”
A headshake.
“Georgia, of the two of us, I’m the silent one. Tell me what’s going through that beautiful head of yours.”
She sighs and rubs her hands up and down her face before she sits up and touches my chest, swirling her finger along my ink and across my nipple rings. “That even though I shouldn’t, I want this.” Her gaze crawls up to mine. “I want you.”
In a heartbeat, I grab her wrists and pin them over her head, stretching her out. My mouth attacks hers as I grind my cock against her pussy, the barbells on the underside rubbing her.
“Oh! Ah!” She arches again, crushing her tits against my chest.
She licks my lips, tasting herself on me as I rock my hips and continue to slide against her folds and clit. She’s so warm and wet, and I slide so effortlessly, it’s taking everything in me not to immediately slam into her.
“Fuck, Lenox. God, that feels so good. So fucking good.”
I continue to hold her down, biting her breasts, licking and sucking on them all the while I grind my cock against her clit. She fights me, her arms squirming, her wrists trying to break free, but I won’t allow it. I’m feral, wanting to tear her apart. Wanting to mark every inch of her skin so she knows who it belongs to.
She continues to writhe beneath me, panting and gasping, her nails scratching at my hand. “I need you inside me,” she sighs.
“I want you to come again first.”
I pump against her, sliding harder and faster, watching with rapt fascination as my cock rings rub her clit, and her cunt soaks me in her cum. Her thighs are trembling, her head trashing between her raised arms, and I use my free hand, the one that’s been roaming over her skin, to pinch and twist her nipple. And when I do that, she detonates, coming on a wet rush all over me, and fuuuuuck, it feels so good. So good that I have no choice but to shift the angle and plunge deep inside her.
“Motherfuck!” she screams as I immediately start pounding into her while she’s still coming.
The walls of her pussy are swollen and hot, and I have to grit my teeth not to come on the spot. My hand still holds her wrists, and our sweaty chests are pressed together. With my eyes locked on hers, I stare into her and fuck her.
“Come inside of me,” she pants. “I want to feel you come in me.”
Jesus. Her words. Her filthy fucking words spin my life around. Because I want to come in her. I want to come in her over and over again. I want to come in her without that IUD inside her. I want to see her pregnant and smiling and happy, and I want to hold her goddamn hand as we walk down the fucking sidewalk.
This is not who I am.
But with her, it is.
I am lost to her. With her, I see a future I never imagined I could have, but now that she’s here, it’s all I can think about. It’s all I want. This marriage is fake to her, but it’s so real to me that I can’t stop myself as my face falls into her neck and I nibble on her flesh and silently mouth, “I love you.” Even if it changes nothing.
I stab into her, digging in deeper, using my hips to press myself against her clit with every pounding slap of our bodies. Sweat glides across my forehead and down the center of my back with how hard I’m driving into her.
I take her mouth, kissing her violently and messily but also worshipfully. I can hardly catch my breath, but I can’t stop either. She’s bucking against me, wild in her movements with one leg around my hip, the other bent on the bed, widened to allow me to go as deep as I can. My balls draw up, and I’m getting close. It’s the feel of her, the scent of her skin, the taste of her on my lips, and the uncontained way I can’t stop fucking her.
But she has to come. She has to, so I slip my fingers between our slick bodies and find her clit with my thumb.
“Hard or soft?” I ask against her lips.
“Hard. Now. I’m right there.”
So I give it to her hard. I press my thumb on her clit and rub it back and forth, and within seconds, she starts to lose it. I release her hands, and they immediately wrap around my neck, her nails scratching brutally at my upper back as her face presses into my chest, and she comes harder than I think I’ve ever seen her come. I fuck her through it, and when I can’t stand it another second, I let go and my orgasm barrels through me. I still, my back wrenching and I roar, shooting everything I have into her in hot, soul-twisting spurts.
After the last jerk of my hips, everything goes black, and I collapse, unable to catch my breath. I press her into the mattress, my body heavy and my limbs languid. Slowly consciousness creeps back in, and I roll us so she’s on top of me and I’m holding her, whispering uncontained words like how beautiful she is and how perfect and how nothing feels as good as being inside her.
My fingers trail down her back, admiring the slope and curve of her body, and when I think I can manage to walk, I climb out of bed and enter her bathroom to wet a washcloth. Bringing it back to her, she reaches for it, and I shove her hand away.
“I want to do it,” I tell her, and she falls back, staring up at the ceiling as I wipe up my cum that’s dripping out of her. I run my fingers through it and push some of it back into her, making her emit a shaky, breathy laugh.
“Are you breeding me?”
I throw her a raised eyebrow. “Is that an option?”
“Kinky slut.”
I laugh. “Cock whore.”
Her eyes close, and I finish cleaning her up, and by the time I’ve returned from the bathroom, she’s back under the covers. Only that’s not going to fly. No way am I leaving her after that, so I pull back the blanket and climb in behind her.
“I didn’t invite you to stay.”
I wrap my arm around her belly and yank her in tightly against me. “I’m not giving you the option.” I kiss her neck. “Go back to sleep, Georgie.”
I get a swift jab to the flank, and I hold her closer, kissing up her neck.
“This doesn’t change anything between us.”
“You’re wrong,” I say. “It changes everything between us.”
My breath stalls in my chest as the truth of that slams into me with the subtlety of a head-on collision. This wasn’t just a one-timer like it was in Vegas. She’s living in my house, and the notion that we’ll be able to stay away from each other after that is preposterous. But more than that, I don’t want to stay away from her.
Not anymore.
Not ever again.
You are deserving, Lenox Moore. Every bit as much as Zax was if not more. If you love Georgia, which I suspect you do since you look at her like she’s your universe, then don’t let that go simply because you didn’t do right by her once. Don’t stand in your own way when you can have everything.
I swallow, lick my lips, breathe in and out, and after a quiet few minutes of coming to grips with just what this means for myself, for my life, for her, I utter, “I want it to change everything between us.” Only she didn’t hear me because she’s already asleep. Fuck.
Chapter Nineteen
I wake much the same way I did after our night together in Vegas, with Lenox asleep behind me and the soft light of dawn hitting me through the window. Only now, I’m focused on three things. One, the rose on the bed beside my hand. Two, the rose that’s still in the vase since he never got the chance to swap it out last night. And three, the rose tattoo on Lenox’s left ring finger.
He must have done it himself this week, but when exactly, I’m not sure. I don’t know what to think about it. I don’t know what to think about him or the roses or any of it. He said this changes everything, but what does that even mean? Is that what I want? Do I want to go down this road again with him? Not really if I’m being honest, and yet yes, one hundred percent I do.
It’s the split between my body and my mind. My body craves him, and my mind remembers all he did to my heart.
He’s twisting me up, playing with things I haven’t given him permission to. Things that no longer belong to him and never should have. I’ve isolated myself this past week, especially from him.
On Tuesday, I handled the Monroe business. I am the official majority shareholder of Monroe Securities, and all of my father’s assets are now mine. But I didn’t pick up my phone when my mom called or even when Zax or Grey called. The only people I’ve spoken to are Fallon and Aurelia, because those bitches are persistent and wouldn’t allow me to shelter in place.
I wanted this week. A week of not a whole lot.
I went on hikes with Alice and explored every inch of Lenox’s house, with the exception of his cave. I’ve read and cried and worked out a lot of what I want my next steps to be.
It's been cathartic, and I’m grateful for having that time for myself.
But today I want to go into town. I want to check out the yoga studio, the coffee shop, and maybe the library. I’m afraid to try and navigate through the fence thing and the forest on my own, so I had planned to bite the bullet and ask Lenox if I could ride with him.
But now…
You’re wrong. It changes everything between us.
I pinch my eyes shut, listening to his deep, even breathing, feeling the heat and size of his body as he cocoons me. Lenox always held me like I was the most precious thing in the world to him when I slept. The comfort and tenderness were so cruelly misleading.
But… could he have changed? Could what he wants from me be different now?
Ugh. Shut up, Georgia! Don’t you dare start that shit again.
My eyes flash open, narrowing in on the rose tattoo, and I reach over, hovering my finger above it, only to be swooped around, somehow landing on top of Lenox. Planting my hands into his chest, I push myself up until I’m straddling him and peer down, not even caring that it’s bright as fuck in here and I’m completely naked and exposed to him. He cares, though. He cares a lot as I feel his cock thicken beneath my ass while his dark, smoldering eyes rake in every inch of me.
I fold my arms, partially covering my breasts. “Care to explain that?” I raise an eyebrow and pointedly zip my gaze down at his left hand that’s inching up my thigh.
“I’m about to use it to make my wife come.”
I shake my head, ignoring the way I get a tickly tingle in my body every time the bastard calls me his wife. “Don’t play coy. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Roses are beautiful, just like my wife is.”
“Argh! Shut up!”
He chuckles and shoves my hands out of the way so he can cup my breasts. “Come on, Georgie, this is supposed to be our honeymoon phase.”
“I don’t think most wives want to kill their husbands the way I want to kill you.”
He pinches my nipple, making my breath hitch. “Sure, they do. That’s why they call it makeup sex.”
