Drew + Fable Forever (One Week Girlfriend #3.5)(6)

“Drew,” she murmurs, her hands immediately going into my hair as she guides me, holding me to her chest. “Please. I’ve waited too long. I want you inside me.”

“Waited too long?” I lick at a nipple over the lace, wetting the fabric and her flesh. She gives a little twitch, a gasp escaping her, and I smile. “We’ve only just begun.”

“It’s been weeks since we’ve been together like this. I don’t want to wait any longer,” she pleads breathlessly. Desperately.

“Don’t rush me.” I want to take my time but I’m as eager as she sounds. Without thought I’m gathering the hem of her nightgown in my fist, pulling the smooth fabric up her legs, revealing that she doesn’t have a stitch on beneath the silk. Everything inside of me goes hot and achy. I’m desperate to unleash on her, show her that she belongs only to me. “I think you need to wear this again tomorrow,” I say, my teeth gritted, my entire body shaking with need.

“Why?” She gasps when I kiss her hip, one thigh, then the other. I feel her tremble beneath my lips and I briefly close my eyes, inhale the musky, sweet scent of her. There are so many things I want to do to her but I can’t focus. I’m filled with the need to plunge deep inside her and never stop.

Ah, shit. I realize she’s waiting for an answer and all I can do is think about how fast I can get inside her.

“Um, because I want to savor you in this pretty gown but I can’t. Not right now.” I’m pulling it off her and she lifts her arms above her head so I can tug it free, getting her as naked as I am. “You’re right. We can linger tomorrow, huh?”

“I suppose we can.” Laughter escapes her as she settles her head back on the stack of pillows, her legs spreading to accommodate me between them. “If you want.”

“Oh, I definitely want. We can linger tomorrow. Even later tonight.” Leaning in, I lick one bare, perfect nipple. “Tomorrow morning.” Then I lick the other. “Whenever, wherever, you’ve got me, baby. I’m all yours.”

And that’s a f**king promise, I think when I push inside her welcoming body, losing myself inside her just like that. She’s hot and wet and tight, clamping so perfectly around my throbbing cock, and I know one thrust would send me straight into oblivion. It’s so easy with Fable. So easy it used to scare me. She’s so accepting, so loving, so sweet and protective and fierce and blunt and beautiful, and all mine. I’m filled with the urge to possess her. Mark her and f**k her and make her realize she will never belong to any other man.

Only me.

I thrust deep and hard, not being cautious or gentle, and she seems to want it that way too. Her breathless words encourage me, the way her eyes glow as she stares, watching me in wonder. Her fingernails cut into the skin on my ass as she pushes me deeper, as deep as I can get …

Fuck. I’m done for. Ruined for any other woman. But that already happened years ago, when I first laid eyes on her. I knew then, I had a weird feeling that this girl would change my life.

She has. In the best way possible, too.

“I love you,” she whispers against my shoulder as I ram deep inside her. Her slender legs are wound around my hips and she’s clinging to me as if she never wants to let me go.

“I love you, too, baby.” I feel like I could say it again and again and it wouldn’t be enough. I want to give her everything she could ever wish for. I want to make all of her dreams come true. I want no one to hurt her ever, least of all me. I want our life together to be perfect.

Wishful thinking, I know, but a man can hope.

She pushes at my shoulders and I lift up, my hands braced on either side of her head so I can look at her. She smiles up at me, cupping my cheek with her hand, and I turn my head, press a soft, damp kiss to her palm. “I don’t ever want to forget this night,” Fable whispers. “The night we first made love as husband and wife.”

Aw damn, she says that and makes me feel guilty for taking her like a brutal animal. I swallow hard, wanting to make it right for her. “You want me to slow down?” I ask.

“No way.” The wicked smile that crosses her face makes me flash one at her in return. “Don’t stop, husband. Please.”

That is all the encouragement I need. Lifting my hips, I push inside her to the hilt, feeling her arch beneath me, her br**sts brushing against my chest. Our bodies are slick with sweat, the fever inside me seems to match the heat within her, and I reach between us, touching her clit, circling it, stroking her hot, soaked flesh, paying attention to her face because I know the look she gets right before she comes.

Her eyelids flutter, her swollen lips part on a silent moan, and I wait to hear her breath catch just before it happens. Right now she’s murmuring nonsense, her eyes are closed and she’s arching her head back, inviting me to kiss her neck, which I do. My fingers are coated with her wetness as I continue to stroke, and when I hear the telltale catch in her breath, I lift my head to watch as she whispers my name once, twice, then again as her body starts to quake beneath mine.

My orgasm comes over me like an out-of-control wave, hard and fast and so completely unexpected I freeze above her, my own lips parted as I hang there for a long, agonizing second before it consumes me.

“Ah f**k,” I whisper harshly as I collapse on top of her, the aftershocks still coursing through my body, making me shiver. She skims her hands up and down my back, soothing me. Her touch feels so good I feel the urge to purr like a f**king cat, and if that isn’t the most ridiculous thought ever. I mean, f**k me. Purr like a cat?