The Reluctant Bride (Arranged Marriage #1)(67)

As serious as I’ve ever seen him.

He begins to move, the slow drag of his cock withdrawing from my body making me arch against him, whimpering in pleasure. He slides back inside with the same, dragging pace, driving me out of my mind with lust.

Nothing has ever felt so good. Nothing.

Nothing.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he murmurs, dipping his head to deliver a punishing kiss to my lips as he increases his pace.

I take it all, losing myself to the sensation of him filling me again and again. We rock into each other, the base of his cock nudging against my clit, that familiar feeling starting to build. The bed rocks, grunts leaving him with every thrust and I hook my legs around his waist, clinging to him.

“Aw fuck.” He pulls out of me at the last second and I watch in open fascination as he wraps his fingers around his cock, stroking himself until he’s coming all over me, onto my lower stomach, his come dripping all over me, down into my pussy.

I should be disgusted, right? That he just came on me like some sort of animal? But he’s staring at me as he tries to control his breathing, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, his other hand coming up to push his hair out of his eyes.

He’s the hottest thing alive. I can’t stop staring at him.

“Charlotte.” He swallows hard, his gaze lifting to mine. “That was…holy shit.”

Wait a minute. Was it so good for him, he can barely speak?

A squeal leaves me when he reaches out and drags his fingers through the semen on my stomach, gently rubbing it into my skin. “Perry—”

“I came all over you,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping lower, cupping me between my thighs. His touch just firm enough to make my blood heat. “I made a mess.”

“I don’t mind,” I say breathlessly.

“Hmmm.” That rumbling sound settles right between my thighs, making me tingle. “I marked you.” His voice deepens. “You’re mine now.”

My heart flutters and I press my lips together, trying to contain the smile that wants to break free.

But it’s no use. I’m beaming. Sweating. And when he wraps himself all around me, his hand on my lower belly, his chin resting on top of my head, I sigh with contentment.

I could fall in love with this man.

And that’s the last thing I should do.





Chapter Twenty-Three




Charlotte


“Charlotte. Wake up.”

I crack my eyes open to find Perry standing over the bed, fully dressed in last night’s clothes minus the jacket and tie. I immediately sit up in bed, the blankets falling to my lap, exposing my nakedness and his gaze drops to my chest.

Reminding me of the first time we met, when he kept staring at my legs and called my breasts tits just to shock me.

We’ve definitely come a long way in a short amount of time.

“Where are you going?” I grab his hand, tugging on it. “Come back to bed.”

“I need to go.”

“Why?” My body aches in the most delicious way, thanks to all the sex Perry and I just had.

“You need your rest. We have a big day and it’s all going to start for you in a couple of hours,” he explains, sounding completely logical.

But I’m feeling totally illogical and I tug harder on his hand, wanting him back in bed with me. “Please don’t go.”

“I’ll see you later. At the wedding.” He leans in and kisses me, his tongue brushing mine far too briefly. “And we can do this again, you know. Tonight.”

“Tonight.” My heart squeezes. “We’ll be married then.”

“You’ll be exhausted.”

“So will you.”

“Could still fuck you though.” He grins.

“Rude.” I scowl.

“You like it.” He kisses me again. “Go back to bed.”

“Why?”

“You’re a distraction.”

“My tits?”

His eyes darken and he reaches for me, cupping my breast, his thumb playing with my nipple. “Yeah. Your tits are a complete distraction, future wife. Now get under the covers.”

I let him tuck me into bed. He pulls the covers to my chin and presses a kiss to my forehead. I close my eyes, my lids heavy, and I realize maybe he’s right.

Maybe I should catch up on some sleep. My day will be longer than his since there’s so much prep to do for my big day, while all he has to do is shower, shave, and get dressed.

I’m half asleep by the time he slips out of the hotel room, and once he’s gone, I’m wide awake. My thoughts are too consumed with what happened between us, reliving every single moment. How controlling he was in the beginning—and how much I liked it. The way he touched me. Kissed me. How I sat on his face—my God. Every bit of it was amazing. Perfect.

And this man is going to be my husband.

I almost squeal out loud, I’m so happy.

It’s around nine when I give up and crawl out of bed, slipping on a pair of black joggers and a matching sweatshirt, not bothering with panties and a bra. I’m experiencing this weird combination of exhausted and exhilarated that I know only coffee can fix. I consider calling for room service, but it’ll take too long.

I want the coffee now.