Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)(45)
Bending back her neck, she arched up again, burying her head in the pillow and pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. He withdrew again and surged forward, watching her face for any sign of fear or pain, but saw only pleasure in the fluttering of her eyes, in the clenching of her jaw and moans of “more.”
“Pres, how do… how do I…?” she whimpered, her fingers digging into his lower back as she started meeting him thrust for thrust.
“You let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’ll be right behind you.”
As he slid into her again, her eyes opened and she locked her gaze with his. “I’m so glad…it was you.” Then she closed her eyes and cried out his name, her whole body tensing beneath him before convulsing into the most beautiful f*cking orgasm he’d ever seen in his entire life. Her skin flushed pink and glistened with sweat as his name fell from her lips over and over again like a litany or prayer or promise, and though he wouldn’t have believed it possible, he swelled inside of her, pulling out slowly, then pressing in deep.
As she pulsed around him, he felt the intense gathering, the pressure in the pit of his stomach, the tension that made his breathing so ragged and fast, he knew he couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Throwing back his head, he bellowed “I love you!” and let go, flooding his wife’s body with his life force and love and his most devout promise of a happy forever.
Chapter 11
The early morning sunshine was dazzling against her eyes when she opened them several hours later, taking a deep breath and stretching. She felt Preston’s warm, naked body behind her and smiled.
From the moment she’d asked him to make love to her, they’d both been ravenous for each other—greedy, urgent and demanding, and after having sex the first time, they’d made love all afternoon, into the night, only stopping to nap before reaching for each other again. They’d barely talked, engaging in a marathon of sex that had finally left them both exhausted.
Elise moved gingerly against him, not surprised to find she was tender between her thighs. Knowing that Preston’s body had used hers to aching was so sexy, it made her want him all over again. She was an addict, she thought with a saucy grin, addicted to her husb—um, to Preston.
“Are you awake?” he whispered.
“I am now,” she purred, snuggling into him sighing with anticipation when she felt his erection straining against her backside.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her, his breath warm on the back of her neck.
“Amazing.” She turned onto her back so she could look up at him. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, wife,” he said, grinning at her. “I love you, Mrs. Winslow.”
Her smile wavered because she couldn’t ignore the unexpected clench of her gut. It was panic, setting in as swiftly as it had yesterday at their wedding ceremony. She’d been distracted by amazing sex for the past twelve hours, but suddenly she was right back in City Hall with a dozen uncomfortable questions circling in her head that she simply couldn’t answer.
“Mrs. Winslow,” she murmured, wishing that the title of “wife” felt as effortless as “lover.”
“That’s right,” he said, his eyes twinkling with happiness. “You love me?”
She did. She loved him very much, which made her doubts about their marriage infinitely more confusing.
“So much,” she whispered, her heart acknowledging the pure truth of her words, despite the way it had clutched a moment ago when he’d called her “Mrs. Winslow.”
He dropped his lips to hers, kissing her gently before leaning back. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
“Speaking of happiness,” she said, determined to be honest with him and start a healthy dialogue about their marriage, expectations and future. She took a deep breath. “Maybe we could go to the park today…and really talk. About getting married, and what we want, and where we’re going…my career, your career…everything.”
“Yeah,” he said, kissing her again. “Sounds good.”
Just like that, her stomach unclenched. “Really?”
“Absolutely. A marriage summit. To get things off on the right foot.”
She grinned at him—the first genuine smile she’d been able to offer him since leaving City Hall yesterday—and it felt divine.
“Exactly,” she said, laughing softly as her body relaxed.
“So noted. A marriage summit on the docket for later today…but for now, Mrs. Winslow? More sex,” said Preston, kissing her again.
“You’re insatiable,” she said, ignoring the uncomfortable new title as her body responded to him instantly. She twined her arms around his neck and slipped her tongue between his lips.
Preston rolled on top of her, the hardness of his erection pushing into her thigh as his hands skimmed down her arms and— Her phone buzzed loudly on the bedside table and she froze.
No one ever called her. The only people who had her number were Preston, her parents and sisters, who never called her, and Donny Durran.
Preston’s hands continued their leisurely exploration of hips and belly as his lips pressed tiny kisses to her neck. She wiggled away from him just enough to free her arm and reach for her phone.
“It’s Donny,” she said, looking at the screen over his shoulder.