He does, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm that has me gasping. His hands grip my hips, angling me so he hits deeper with each stroke, and I cling to him, lost in the sensation of us moving together.
“Harder,” I beg, and he obliges, his pace quickening, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.
I feel the tension coiling tighter in my belly, pleasure building with each thrust. Frost reaches between us, his thumb finding my clit again, and that's all it takes. I shatter, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash over me.
“Fuck, Hope,” he groans, his rhythm faltering. “I'm?—”
“Come inside me,” I whisper, tightening around him. “Want to feel you.”
He thrusts deep one last time, and his body goes rigid as he spills inside me and growls my name. We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, hearts racing in perfect sync.
Finally, he rolls to the side, pulling me with him so I'm tucked against his chest. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I feel boneless, satisfied, completely content.
“Best bachelorette party ever,” I murmur, and he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest.
“Just wait till the wedding night,” he promises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Let me get you cleaned up.”
Before I can protest, Frost hops out of bed and marches into the bathroom. I close my eyes and listen to the water running, and a moment later, the bed dips. I purr in delight as Frost massages my legs seductively. Slowly, urging my legs apart, histongue sweeps across my swollen clit. I squirm at the contact and try to move away.
He holds me in place with his arm draped over my abdomen and continues to nip and suck the sensitive bud. I erupt again. My entire body feels like jelly as he cleans me before wiping himself off. Frost tosses the washrag aside and pulls me into his chest as I drift off.
Morning comes way too quickly. I wake to sunlight and the faint sound of Frost moving around the suite. He’s already showered based on his damp hair, and his jeans hang off his hips.
“You’re up early,” I mumble.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “Still riding the win.”
I check my phone on the nightstand to see a message from Amy. My smile stretches across my face when I read what she has planned today. “Amy texted. Looks like we’re having a spa day.”
His brows lift. “That sounds dangerous.”
“She promised not to assault anyone,” I say, already knowing that’s probably a lie.
Frost hands me a cup of steamy, hot goodness. “Can’t start a day with Amy without your coffee.”
I chuckle. “You’re probably right, thank you.”
Frost winks and leans down to kiss me. “I’m always right,” he mumbles against my lips
I swat him in the chest. “Get out of here. Go have fun with the guys.”
Frost and the guys head back downstairs to gamble while Amy and I slip into fluffy robes at the spa. The scent of eucalyptus wraps around us, soothing and decadent.
“I deserve this,” Amy declares, sinking into a chair. “Trauma from being separated from my bat.”
I snort. “I think you’ll survive.”
She smirks as the esthetician begins. “We’ll see.”
I chuckle softly as my mind drifts about becoming Mrs. Deacon Stone. Later that evening, Amy and I are relaxed, glowing, and more than ready to party again. I invite Amy up to mine and Frost’s suite so we can get ready together while the men wait for us in the casino. I decided on a deep blue sequined halter top and black jeans that hug me in all the right places. Sliding on my wedges, I put the finishing touches on my smoky eyes.
Amy whistles. “You look fucking hot, girl.”
“So do you,” I say.
Amy decided on a pair of dark-wash jeans, an off-the-shoulder black lace top, and a deep purple tank underneath. Her stiletto heels finish off the biker chic look. She slides up next to me and hands me a gift bag.
“What’s this?” I ask, tossing the decorative tissue paper on the counter.
