I held her hips and ignored her protests, tongue fucking her then sucking on her clit until she came, threats and promises about what she was going to do to my cock.
I didn’t give her any reprieve. As soon as her orgasm peaked, I moved over her body, kneeling high, and lifted her hips so she could guide my desperate dick into her centre.
She was slick and swollen, and I knew she could take me in one movement.
I kept hold of her hips, fucking her with hard, slow movements, her pussy so tight it felt like it had clamped around my cock.
The angle and my hold meant I could hit the spot inside her, give her the chance of a third orgasm. She widened her legs, her knees angled towards her chest, her dark eyes focused solely on mine.
There were words from both of us; praise and promises, whispers of love and of all the things that were hers, were mine. Her release induced mine, the clench of her muscles around my cock draining my orgasms from me, her name a roar and I braced my arms to stop me from collapsing on top of her.
My nose rubbed against hers, an Eskimo kiss, before I took her mouth, soft and gentle, the direct opposite of what we’d just done.
“That, Maxwell Callaghan, is one of the many reasons why I’m marrying you in three days’ time.” Her words were breathless. “Many reasons. Now I need to be cuddled.”
I chuckled, easing myself off and out of her, passing tissues to help clear the inevitable.
“Such a gentleman.” She laughed softly.
“Your gentleman.” I reached for her face, cupping her jaw. “Only yours. Forever yours.”
10
Her favourite perfume – from Grant to Marie
Maxwell
“Seph! Seph! Seph!”The shout from Eli ran from his mouth as quickly as he was running down the wing, arms ready to catch and avoided the opposition like they were twelve-year-old schoolboys without a single clue.
I’d found out recently that Eli had almost played professionally, which now answered a lot of questions about why he was so good.
Seph’s pass was neat and well timed. Eli ran towards the line, leaving the attempt at defence for dust and scoring what was our fourth try of the game.
There were claps on the back, a sweaty hug. There would be one final kick at goal and the game should be pretty much done.
Owen took the ball, placing it down and looking as serious as he would if this was a cup final. He backed up to take his run, aiming his kick and putting the ball straight through the posts.
The ref blew the whistle and several blew out a sigh of relief. None of us were under thirty and all of us would feel this tomorrow and pretend we didn’t.
“Bath. Of. Ice.” Nick patted my back. “Good game that. We should do this more often.”
“Then it might hurt less.” Shay hobbled past us. “I haven’t played a game of rugby for fuck knows how long.”
“You’ll have to start training with us now you’re in London.” Owen bent down to redo his lace. “Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings, matches on a Sunday, unless you’re Nick and you just turn up when you feel like it and don’t expect to hurt the next day.”
“For me to train I’d have to get some form of life.”
I laughed. Shay wasn’t that different from me and Jackson; totally obsessed with work, and when he wasn’t, he channelled Callum in his younger days.
“Then get some form of life.” I clapped him on the back. “Get showered, back to the house and in the hot tub. And be glad we haven’t played this outside. Hot tubs sting like a bitch if you’re freezing.”
We’d manage to book an indoor rugby pitch, one where one of the professional teams trained, otherwise the match would’ve been called off. I had a feeling that tomorrow I’d be wishing it had been called off.
“I heard something about hot tubs and breakfast.” Eli shoulder bumped me on the way into the changing rooms. “You any idea what the girls were up to this morning?”
I shrugged. I had no idea. “Vic was still asleep when we left this morning. I’ve learned that waking her up when she doesn’t need to be up for anything is one of the seven deadly sins.”
Eli laughed. “Ava was already out of bed. I haven’t seen her much since I got here.”
