One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(70)



He lifted his head, smirking. “He’s slid into third.”

All of a sudden, he closed his eyes and bore down. Sensations overwhelmed me as he alternated hard and soft with licks, sucks, and gentle bites. I moaned in between gasps of air. When I began to squirm, aching for release, needing more, he clamped his hands down on my upper thighs.

I swallowed hard and stopped fighting and started riding every ounce of pleasure he delivered to me. My muscles tensed tight. My breaths shortened to pants. As I rode the edge of release, I lost control and curved upward, digging my nails into his shoulders.

On a growl, he rose onto his knees. His hands cupped my ass as he yanked my hips up.

My eyes widened before a wry smile curved my lips. “What do you want?” My chest heaved after the whispered question.

A muscle in his jaw clenched as he stared at me. “To drive home.” On a hard flex of his hips, he plunged deep.

I cried out, then gasped. Pleasurable pain sparked between my thighs as his thickness stretched tight muscles.

He shuddered, then pulled back and thrust harder, seating inside me completely. I struggled for air again. I ran my hands up his back. His fullness inside me, his body caged around me, became my world.

My breath caught as my inner muscles clamped down once, incredible ache teetering me right on the edge. In a split second, a coil tightened, then snapped. I screamed, hard spasms overtaking me. I grabbed the corner of the comforter and shoved it into my mouth, muffling my cries so the neighbors wouldn’t think someone was being murdered out on my back lawn.

A smug smile curved his lips as my spasms subsided. He dragged his hips back, then plunged in again, igniting a new wave of sensations.

I groaned low.

He pulled back and thrust forward again, each time harder and harder. On a hoarse shout and a final thrust, he came hard, his pulses firing deep inside me. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, muffling a primal growl.

In slow motion, he collapsed around me, tugged me to his side, and hugged me close. “Too fast.” He exhaled with a hard huff, burying his face into my hair before turning to press a kiss on my forehead.

I gave a slight headshake. “Amazing.” Tears welled in my eyes as emotions caught up with my body. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard, working past the lump in my throat. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

He pulled back, staring hard at me. A sudden smile burst onto his face. “You mean the orgasm? Always…”

I laughed, poking his ribs with my fingers. “No. Well, yes. Thank you for that. But I mean, thank you for waiting for me—for us.”

He gave me a slow, sexy smile. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever waited for.”





A team of people were involved in the making of One Funeral and are mentioned below; however, any errors within the published novel, whether existing there intentionally or not, are ours alone.

Enormous appreciation goes to Kristi at Picky Editor. She was the first developmental editor and the last proofreader. But in between, she went above and beyond, providing additional editing, support, and advice in areas that far surpassed the traditional author–editor relationship. Kristi, we enjoyed the journey all the more because you were an integral part of it. You are a rare treasure, and we’re immeasurably grateful for you and all you do.

Huge thanks to Heather and Misty, our close friends and cheerleaders.

To our social media friends, fans, supporters, readers, reviewers, and bloggers, both those we’ve interacted with thus far and those we look forward to meeting—we are immensely grateful for all you do. Your unending enthusiasm for reading our stories fuels our excitement to write them.

Stone, what in the world could I say here to cover the depth of my gratitude to you? Not enough. But I will say that I’m so glad we took a wild idea over pizza out one night and turned it into a labor of love and laughter. I’d shout out some of the hilarious moments to make you laugh, but I have a feeling you’re already thinking about them…and smiling.

Kat…Wait, what? Is this like wedding vows? You know what you mean to me. The journey. The love. The laughter. Squirrel!





Award-winning and bestselling romance author Kat Bastion has teamed up with her husband Stone Bastion to create the new contemporary romance series No Weddings.

A few factoids about the writing team…

Kat enjoys her chocolate rich and dark, her music edgy and soul-filling, and her vacations exotic with toes dug into the sand. And she’s wildly, madly, deeply in love with Stone.

Stone likes pounding the trails on a mountain bike, vibrating the sound system with rock music, and down time spent on a stand up paddleboard. And he loves Kat wildly, madly, deeply…and then some.

Together, they’re having a blast bringing fun-filled romantic stories to life and hope you’ll join them in the exciting adventure.

Kat’s first published work, Utterly Loved, was a twentieth anniversary gift of love poems to Stone that they decided to share with the world to benefit charity. Net proceeds from Utterly Loved, and a portion of net proceeds from all their books, go toward charities involved in the fight against human trafficking.

Kat and Stone live amid the beautiful Sonoran Desert of Arizona. Visit their blog at www.talktotheshoe.com, website at www.katbastion.com, and their Twitter accounts at https://twitter.com/KatBastion and https://twitter.com/StoneBastion for more information.

Kat Bastion & Stone's Books