“Yes.” It was more a breath than an actual word. “I’m more than okay with that.”
He didn’t speak, he just clasped the back of my head and slammed our mouths together. It was the kiss I had been waiting for. The one I could already taste. Unrestrained. Bordering on crazed. Tongues. Teeth.
It waseverything.
Beau stopped only to tear off my clothes. My muscles turned to mush as I submitted to him completely, letting him maneuver my body until I was completely naked in front of him.
My knees were shaking, pussy soaked and pulsating, and my breathing shallow when he stepped back, fully clothed, rubbing his jaw as he eyed me. Every curve, every dimple, every mole didn’t go unnoticed by Beau.
“What did I tell you to do, Hannah?” He met my eyes, his tone a velvet menace.
I licked my lips, glancing at him one last time before I turned, on unsteady legs, making the short journey to the bed.
I was never more aware of every inch of my skin, every movement, as I climbed onto that bed, knowing Beau was an apt witness.
It sent shivers down my spine, the weight of expectation heavy on my limbs.
My pussy throbbed relentlessly as I got myself situated, ass in the air, presented to him. It was a vulnerable position, made easier by the champagne buzzing through my veins, taking away my inhibitions.
And Beau.
Although he might’ve made me nervous, might’ve scared me a little, I trusted him. To respect my body. To take care of me.
It took effort to keep still, displayed in such a way, so I didn’t hear Beau move right away. After a handful of seconds, I tilted my head, attempting to look at him.
But then his guttural growl commanded, “Don’t fucking move.”
I flinched at the command, but I stayed as still as my quivering limbs would let me. Even though I was shaking with desire. Mad with need. Sweat beaded on my upper lip, my arms already shaking.
The slow sound of his footfalls echoed in my ears. I could feel his presence, the slight jostle of the bed as he pressed up against it. Again, he didn’t touch me right away, my body arching up higher to him, offering myself completely. The angle left nothing to the imagination, yet I felt no shame.
Finally, Beau’s hand landed on the skin of my ass, rubbing. He explored slowly, cupping the cheek before slowly slipping downward to where I was already soaking.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
I bit my lip as he rubbed my swollen clit, my entire body spasming.
“I had been planning on getting you ready,” he murmured, his finger working slowly. “But you’re ready. My good girl.”
Then his finger was gone, and I let out a little whine of frustration.
Beau chuckled, low and throaty. “I’ll take care of you, baby.” I heard a zipper, a faint rustle of clothing, then he was pressed against my entrance. “I’ll take care of you,” he repeated.
Then he slammed in. To the hilt.
I was ready for him. Completely and utterly primed. But there was a faint hint of pain, painted around the edges of utter pleasure. That’s what I needed, though, to not come straight away.
Beau’s hands settled on my hips, keeping me steady as my whole body vibrated from the force of his entrance, his relentless thrusts.
It didn’t take long before the pressure built in the base of my spine, spreading from my lower stomach outward. I fisted the sheets with quaking arms as Beau bottomed out once more, and I let myself submit to the unrelenting pressure of the orgasm.
The angle, his continued thrusts, his size, the glorious lightness in my body from the booze… it was everything I needed to just … float away.
twenty-seven
HANNAH
Calliope,as promised, arrived for a “hangover breakfast” the next day.
