Fools Rush In Page 6

  “I love making you come,” Sam whispered against my lips. “I adore that I’m the only man who’s ever made you moan and writhe under my touch.”

  “When do I get to be the one to make you come?” He had so far seen and explored almost every part of me, yet he remained in his boxers. I didn’t think that was fair.

  He grinned and kissed me some more. “So impatient.” Kiss. “So curious.” Suck. “So insatiable.” Nibble. “You still want more?”

  “Yes.” I slid my hands down his back, dragging my nails over his flesh before pausing at his waist, tucking my fingers beneath the cotton. “I want to see it. I want to feel it, and….” I felt a little nervous saying the next part.

  “And?”

  “I want to taste it.”

  He inhaled deeply, his breath shaking as though he was struggling with his control.

  “Please, Sam. I want to do it all. I want to know what it’s like to have you inside me.” I moved my hand to the front of his boxers and boldly massaged his hard length.

  “Oh, peaches. You know what you do to me. I’ve been showing you how much I want you all night.”

  “Then take me. Please. I want it all. I don’t want to wait.”

  Pulling back, he looked deep in my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. You said it yourself, I’ll stretch, right?”

  “Yes, but it’s your first time. It’s going to hurt no matter what.”

  “I know, but I want it. I want to feel my husband inside me.”

  He dropped his forehead against mine and drew another ragged breath. “Your husband,” he repeated, testing the word out on his tongue like a foreign dialect. “Say it again.”

  I rolled my body beneath him, speaking in gasps. “I want to feel my husband inside me. I want you to make me yours.”

  “Mine,” he said. “Only mine.”

  “Yes,” I whispered, pulling him closer. “My first. My only.”

  He released a moan as he sat back and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “If it gets too much, you say stop and I’ll stop, OK?”

  “OK.” Nervous and excited butterflies flapped about in my stomach and fluttered in my chest. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. I felt no fear over his size anymore; his expert touch had seen to it that I was relaxed beyond words. Now I was desperate to please him.

  “Look how excited you are.” He chuckled as he stepped off the bed and pushed his boxers and briefs to the floor. When he stood back up, his cock stood proudly with him. And I couldn’t help myself, I licked my lips. “That’s a better reaction than when you saw it earlier.”

  “That’s because I was shocked last time. This time I knew what to expect.”

  He placed a knee back on the bed. “I like this reaction much better.”

  As he knelt before me, I met him in the same position, our naked bodies pressing together as we kissed.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said.

  “I want to touch you,” I whispered against his lips.

  “Then touch me.”

  He groaned as I slid my hands down his chest, lower, lower. I felt his stomach jolt beneath my fingers, heard his breath catch as I stroked lightly up his shaft, then saw his cock jump when I wrapped my hand around its girth. My fingers barely touched it.

  “Is this OK?” I asked, moving my hand up and down.

  “It’s more than OK.” His voice was thick, his eyelids looking heavy.

  Leaning down, I inspected his long, thick member. It kind of reminded me of an eyeless worm, but a massive one like those sand worms from Dune. I was fascinated.

  “Can I lick it?” There was a small bead of arousal on his tip, and I really wanted to know what it tasted like.

  “As long as you don’t try to break it or bite it, you can do anything you like.”

  With my eyes on his, I held his dick in my hand as I gave it a long, slow lick right over the swollen head. It tasted salty, like kissing him in the ocean had.

  “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

  It was the first time he’d said that. He’d called me gorgeous, but it had felt more like a comment on my personality than how I appeared in his eyes. But in that moment, as his fingers caressed the side of my face, I felt as though he really meant it. I felt like he saw something in me I’d never known existed. Beauty.

  I smiled then licked his tip again, sucking a little before I parted my lips as wide as I could and took him in my mouth. I’d barely gotten past that ridged part where the helmet became the shaft when his fingers tightened in my hair and he hissed, “Stop,” through his teeth.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked, releasing him immediately.

  He shook his head, then climbed over me until I lay back beneath him. “Not a thing. You’re perfect.” He sucked my lip. “I just won’t last long that way. If I’m going to come, I want it to be inside my wife.”

  A huge grin spread across my face, and I shifted my legs so I could open them for him. He’d called me his wife. “I want that too.”

  With his eyes locked on mine, he reached between us and ran his tip against my seam. I was finally going to understand what all the fuss was about. Foreplay had been amazing, but this—him inside me—was what I’d been waiting for. I was more than ready.

  “Relax. I’ll go slow, and we can stop at any time,” he assured me.

  Releasing a slow breath, I nodded and placed my hands against his firm chest. “I trust you.” I could feel his heart raging beneath his skin. Could he possibly be as nervous as me?

  I felt him push in slightly. I sucked in my breath with the accompanying burn. He was so big. I felt too tight.

  “You OK?” He stilled and I realised that my nails were digging into his skin. I willed myself to relax, then nodded.

  “I’m OK.”

  He pushed a little more and I felt myself stretching, and stretching. The burn was a little less, but it was still there, along with this wonderful feeling that I didn’t know how to describe yet. All I knew for sure was that I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to push farther, deeper.

  “More,” I gasped.

  He pushed again, and a sudden piercing pain flashed, then burned. I cried out. What the hell? He stopped moving and leaned down to kiss me, slowly, softly, a hand caressing my face while the other kept him braced above me.

  “I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?” His voice was almost a whisper, filled with concern as well as desire and his strained control.

  “Cartwrights don’t apologise,” I gasped, causing him to chuckle lightly, breathlessly. “Don’t stop. I want you to keep going.”

  His push was torturously slow, giving my body the time it needed to fully adjust both to his length and his girth. It was a strange sensation, uncomfortable and indescribably good all at once, with my body aching for more still. The moment he moved back and forth a touch, I knew it was friction I was craving.

  “Yes,” I said with a shaky voice, clinging to him while doing my best not to clench around him.

  He moved a little more and I moaned, the burn becoming a memory, taken over by a wonderful pressure that built with each languid stroke of his cock against my insides.

  “I don’t know how long I can last,” he ground out. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

  “So do you,” I gasped. “Oh God, so do you.” I moved my hands across his chest, resting them on his arms as I looked into the eyes of the man who was connected to my body in the most pure and carnal way a man and woman could join. One flesh.

  As he moved inside me, I couldn’t escape the teachings instilled in me from a young age, that marriage was sacred and the most intimate of all human relationships, uniting a man and a woman with a promise and then a consummation where they became one flesh, a new kinship forming from the most intimate of human bonds. For the first time in my adult life, I was glad I’d waited, glad I’d kept my virginity for this one perfect moment. I could feel myself changing, opening
for him, bonding to him. He was my new reality.

  “The things I want to do to your body, peaches,” he grunted, his hot breath washing over my skin as his mouth moved along my collarbone, trailing up my neck. “But you’re so sweet and innocent. So sweet.”

  When his hips ground against me and his cock pressed a little deeper, I gasped and arched my back. I didn’t feel so innocent anymore. Despite my romantic thoughts, my body was full of wanton craving.

  “I don’t want to be sweet,” I said, words mere gasps and whispers. “I don’t want to be innocent either. I want you to take me, Sam. Do all the dirty things to me you imagine. I want it. Please, make me dirty. So dirty.”

  “Fucking hell,” he groaned, pistoning his hips. In and out, in and out. “You are so fucking hot. I can’t hold on.”

  Neither could I. The pressure built and built. I felt set to explode.

  “Oh God. Sam.” My fingers dug into his arms.

  “Alesha.”

  He said my name as a sigh and then shuddered over me, his hips continuing to move until I did the same, my internal muscles gripping him tight and causing him to hiss and shudder some more.

  Staying inside me, he kissed me languidly until the pulsing in our connection subsided. Then he ran a hand over my hair. “You are amazing. Brilliant. Sexy.”

  I grinned. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

  “I barely made it past the first couple of strokes. That dirty stuff is going to have to wait for another time.”

  I blushed a little as the words I’d spoken in the throes of ecstasy returned to me. “I may have gotten a little carried away with the talking.”

  His fingers gripped my hip and squeezed. “Oh no, peaches, don’t you take it back. I have every intention of turning you into a very dirty girl.”

  Placing my hands over my face, I couldn’t suppress my giggle. Talking about that now that the lust haze had cleared felt a little like teasing. I met his eyes. “Stop. You can’t tease me over the things I say when you’re balls deep inside me.”

  “You mean like I am now?” He wriggled his hips a little, grinning.

  “Yes. And any time we’re naked. I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”

  With a hum, he took my mouth in his. “I love the things you say when you’re naked. They’re pure and true, just like you are.”

  “They just pop out. I feel silly for saying them.”

  “Don’t. It’s hot. I love it. And I’m really going to enjoy making you my dirty girl.” He grinned and tickled my side lightly until I giggled and squirmed. Then he kissed me, caressing the side of my face. “Are you OK?”

  I released a contented sigh and nodded. “I’m more than OK.” I smiled, running my hand down his chest. “I’m actually kind of perfect.”

  Chapter Seven

  The Family Business

  “I never thought it would be that amazing. Especially not the first time.”

  “You were amazing,” Sam said, kissing me again before slowly pulling out of me. It was an odd sensation, and I felt the need to squeeze my pelvic floor the moment I was empty.

  “Let me get something to help you clean up,” he offered.

  As he hopped off the bed, I felt it, this warm seeping feeling of something coming out of me. I tried to squeeze harder but I could still feel it.

  Oh no. Is that… blood? Did he actually tear me with that big cock of his, and now I’m bleeding everywhere?

  I sat up suddenly, almost too afraid to look but forcing myself to assess the carnage so I’d know if I needed immediate help. What’s the emergency services number in the Cook Islands?

  “What the…?” What I saw on the sheets wasn’t blood at all, but this milky-coloured gunk that was streaked with pink. Did that come from me? “Oh, yuck,” I muttered, looking around the room for tissues or something to clean it up. I had no idea if that was normal or not. Holland had always regaled me with detailed tales of her sexual encounters, but she’d never mentioned this. I wanted it gone before Sam saw it and never wanted to touch me again.

  Too late.

  “I don’t think you bled much,” he said when he re-entered the room with a washcloth in hand.

  Desperate to hide the mess and having nothing to wipe it away with, I shifted to the side and covered it with my thigh.

  “Is that normal?” I asked, trying to assume some sort of sexy-looking pose so I didn’t look like I’d just given birth to a glob. I went with my knees to the side and an arm over my head. It felt very ‘draw me like one of your French girls’.

  Sam knelt on the bed, then tapped my top knee. “Open.”

  A coy smile spread across my lips. “Why?”

  He lifted the washcloth. “So I can clean you.”

  My cheeks burned over the thought of letting him wash my private area. “Oh. No. I can do that.” I reached for the cloth but he held it out of my grasp.

  “It would be my pleasure.” He pulled on my knee a little but I clamped my legs shut.

  “Nah.” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head.

  He laughed. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, peaches. It’s my mess too.”

  When I took a moment to meet his eyes, I saw both determination and kindness in them. He obviously really wanted to do this.

  “I can clean myself,” I said again.

  “I know, but I want to take care if you. Can you let me do that?”

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly lifted my knee, granting him access to the massacre between my thighs. Strangely, he didn’t even flinch. Maybe this is normal.

  “You might want to lie back and press your knees together next time. You have semen all over your thigh.” He lifted my leg and wiped away the streaky goop.

  Semen. That’s what it was. Of course. I felt so relieved.

  “Why isn’t there a bunch of blood?” I asked as he was finishing up. “I thought I was supposed to bleed.”

  “Not everyone does. There was a little, but it was mostly mixed in with that load I shot inside you.” He gave me a half grin and a wink.

  “That’s really crass.” I giggled.

  “Yeah but you like it.” He gently pinched my arse and I giggled again.

  “You know, I think I like everything about you, Sam.”

  He seemed surprised as he set the cloth aside and lay on the bed beside me, his eyebrows lifting as if he thought it was a strange thing to say.

  “Should I not?” I asked as he tucked his hand behind his head.

  “I don’t know. You just surprise me.”

  “In what way?”

  “In every way. You’ve taken all this extremely well.”

  I flipped over to my stomach. “Worried you’ve married someone slightly insane? Think I might boil your bunny?” I was smiling as I said it, but his eyes found mine quickly. “I’m joking.” I laughed.

  “I don’t think you’re insane. A little crazy maybe, but not insane.”

  “That makes it so much better.” There was sarcasm in my tone, but I didn’t take any offence. I’d never claimed to be normal.

  He turned his body to face mine and started running his fingers up and down my back. I closed my eyes.

  “That feels really nice,” I said, happy to move on to other things, like sleeping for instance.

  He kept his fingers moving soothingly, but it was like I could hear his brain thinking, so I knew we were going to keep talking. “I guess I just don’t understand why a girl as sweet and amazing as you could be interested in what I have to offer. I mean, I get that you weren’t given a hell of a lot of choice, but you’re just so… cool with it.”

  I opened my eyes again. “Would you rather I hated you?”

  He shook his head slowly, his expression telling me that the idea pained him.

  “Would you rather I was scared and crying all the time?”

  His expression remained the same as he shook his head again.

  “Then what would you have me do?”

  “I don
’t know. But we barely know each other. I wonder if there will come a moment when you stop for a second and take a look around, only to realise that this isn’t what you want.”

  “My whole life has been something I don’t want.”

  “What do you mean?” His expression morphed into concern, and it took a moment for me to realise why he reacted that way.

  “I don’t want my life over, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just that I’ve never really been given a choice. I’m the girl who does what she’s told. I’m the best friend’s sidekick. I’m the daughter who never complains. This marriage is probably the first real decision I’ve ever made for me. Granted, the alternative wasn’t the best option, but at least I had a choice. I even got to choose you.” When his expression grew curious, I elaborated. “Jasmine told me that if I wanted to live, I could marry Toby. I said no, that I wanted you. She agreed.”

  “Huh.” His hand stopped moving and he rolled onto his back, raking his fingers through his hair.

  I pushed up onto my elbows. “Does that bother you?”

  He lowered his hands and rested one on the curve of my arse. “Honestly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about this entire situation. I mean, I like you. A lot. When you and Holland busted into our property, I thought you had a lot of spunk in you. I thought the way you fought Toby off was the most entertaining thing I’d seen in a long time. Then I liked you more as the evening went on. Did I want to sleep with you? Yes. But did I think I’d found my future wife? No. I’m thirty-five, and the thought of getting married has never crossed my mind. But Jasmine says jump and we say how high.”

  “Is that the only reason you agreed to marry me? Because she told you to jump?”

  He ran a single finger up the centre of my spine. “I agreed because I liked you and the alternative was….” He paused and frowned. “I didn’t want that to happen to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “So you wanted me more than you wanted me dead?”

  “That’s very blunt, but yes. I wanted you, and I didn’t want to be responsible for ending your life.”

  “Have you ever killed someone before?”