“So there’s no court case?” Her mouth hangs open as if it’s suddenly sinking in.
“No court case, no lawyers, no development. Dad must be getting soft in his old age.”
“So he reached out to you? I didn’t think you were on speaking terms.”
“I called Mum two weeks ago and told her I was going to ask you to marry me.” I can’t say the words marry me without smiling, knowing this girl’s gonna make me the happiest man alive. “She called Dad and told him to get his head out of his arse before he loses his son, like he lost her all those years ago. I think the words ‘daughter’ and ‘grandkids’ were thrown around, and here we are.”
Shelly makes a beautiful giggling sound. “If I’d have known the promise of grandchildren would’ve shut down the development, I would have slept with you sooner.”
“You couldn’t wait to open up for me, admit it.” I grind my pelvis against her.
The giggle turns to a moan.
With the sun almost set, a cool breeze swathes my skin, but the fire in my belly and the blood rushing through my veins straight to my dick has me burning up with need.
“I think it was the other way around.” She squirms as I tickle her waist. “You were a cocky jerk, to be fair.”
“I’ll show you cocky.” I tug at the button on her denim shorts. “Take these off, turtle girl.”
She glances around. “Someone might see.”
“There’s nobody here but us.”
She raises an eyebrow as if to say,really?. “The last time you said that, we ended on a centre spread in theLondon Daily.”
I chuckle, but she’s yet to see the funny side of that fiasco. “This is our land now. If anyone takes photographs, I’ll sue for trespassing private land.” My lips press against her stomach as I tug on her shorts. “Now take these off. I need to make love to my soon-to-be wife.”
She lifts her bottom as I pull the denim down her thick thighs, over the inked turtle that matches my new art on my leg. Her knickers come down with the shorts, exposing her pussy, half hidden between her touching thighs.
I toss her clothes near the picnic hamper and pull my erection from my shorts. “Open up for me. Let me see that glistening pearl between your legs.”
Slowly, she lifts her knees, then lets them drop to the side, exposing herself fully to me. The breeze embraces us, making her tremble, as if even nature and the elements crave her as I do.
“Are you wet for me?” I glide a finger from her sweet cavern to the pearl between her folds, sliding her slickness all around in slow circles.
“You know I am.” She fists my shirt and drags me closer to her, my dick settling at her entrance.
With one thrust, I seat myself inside her heat. The feeling never gets old, like coming home after being lost at sea. She fits me perfectly, like a turtle fits its shell.
The ring on her finger grazes my neck as she wraps her fingers around me. The new sensation already becoming my new favourite thing. Each time she presses the metal against my skin is a reminder she’ll soon be my wife.
“I love you, Finn.” She gazes into my eyes as I slide inand out of her at a steady rhythm, using every ounce of strength to keep myself under control.
“I love you, too, turtle Myrtle.” I use the name she hated, claiming it back from the idiots who gave it to her.
“When we’re married, you won’t be able to call me that anymore.”
I pause my movements and stare down at my fiancée. The realisation washes over me that she’ll be a Jones-Fitzpatrick. “You want to take my name?”
“Of course. I want the same name as my husband and our future kids.” She lifts her hips, coaxing me to move mine, but I’m just enjoying this moment and committing it to memory.
“Are you going to make love to me, then, or are we just staring at each other?” She smiles up at me, her beautiful face bathed in moonlight as dusk welcomes the night.
“Tell me what I like to hear and I’ll give you what you want.” My cock twitches inside her, desperate for more friction, but having her at my mercy is all too tempting.
“There you go again, wanting me to stroke your ego.” She rolls her eyes with a smile. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on your inked chest.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I move again, giving us both the friction we crave.
