groin. I don’t stop. I thrust into her, again and again. She arches her spine, pushes up to meet me. Locks her ankles around me, flattens her breasts against my chest planes, strains against me, consumes me.
The ticking of the clock fades. I tear my mouth from hers, "I'll never get enough of you. Not until every inch of you is married to every inch of me, and not even then. Not until I've broken you completely, and myself. Until every part of you bears the imprint of me, every cell in your body recognizes that you are mine. Mine. Only mine, you get me?"
She nods. "Only yours," she whispers. "Always yours, love you Wes—"
I kick my hips forward and bury myself inside her with such force that the entire bed shakes. The headboard slams into the wall; somewhere something crashes to the floor. The timer rings as I growl, "Come with me, Princess."
Her mouth opens in a silent cry. She holds my gaze as she shatters, as her body trembles under me, as my orgasm takes hold and I come inside of her.
Her chest heaves, sweat beads her upper lip, and I bend down and lick it up. "Yum." I smack my lips. "How the hell do you manage to taste so sweet?"
"How the hell do you manage to turn sex into an orgy each and every time, my love?"
"Hmm." I bump my neck to hers. "Love it when you talk dirty to me, babe."
"Love it when you—" She blinks. "Did you hear that?"
I frown, "What?"
"Did somebody call your name?"
I angle my head, "Don’t hear anything."
I reach down to kiss her again, when, "Weston, where the fuck are you, arsehole?" Damian's voice reaches me from the direction of the doorway.
I groan, "The fuck?"
She giggles, "Looks like your friends decided to pay you a visit on Christmas day?"
"Something I can do without." I grouse.
"Weston... Hey...oops. Sorry, man," Damian apologizes.
I turn, glare at where Damian stands in the doorway, face averted.
"I didn't see anything. I promise."
"Fuck off," I growl.
"A bit too late, old chap."
"Where the fuck is the wanker?" Another voice—Arpad's calls out.
"If he thinks he can spend Christmas on his own, he's got another think coming. What's he up to— Oh hell, did we interrupt something?" Is that Edward?
I grab a pillow, throw it in the direction of the doorway. "Back the fuck off, you tossers."
"Sorry."
"Didn't mean any harm."
"You ah—finish what you started.. We'll be at your bar."
The voices fade.
"Close the fucking door behind you," I call out.
The door slams shut.
This is what happens when your friends have unrestricted access to your apartment, something I intend to rectify at the first opportunity. I draw in a breath, glance down at my fiancée, "Where were we, babe?"
"We need to get out there." She stabs a finger in my chest.
I lower my head to hers, "In good time."
62
Knock knock!
Who’s there?
Imogen.
Imogen who?
Imogen life without chocolate... (and Weston...)
-From Amelie's diary
Amelie
I walk into Weston's living room just as the doorbell rings.
Weston—who's changed into slacks and shirt— opens it as Saint, Sinclair and Jace walk in carrying a massive Christmas tree wrapped in a net. Weston leads them to the far corner of the room, where they cut off the net and proceed to set it up.
Weston turns to me, crooks a finger. I frown; he smirks. I mentally throw up my hands, walk over to join him. He wraps his arm around me tugs me into his side.
"Did you plan this?" I ask.
"What?" He grins.
"All this." I jerk my chin toward the Christmas tree currently being set up by his three friends, then to the bar where the other three are having an argument about the latest cricket scores.
The doorbell rings again, then the door is pushed open, and Isla walks in, followed by Sienna—Jace's wife, who pushes a pram with their newborn son.
Victoria follows her.
She smooths her hands down the green dress, as always, looking like she's stepped off a catwalk. She pauses halfway into the room, when Saint looks up. He closes the distance between them and pulls her into a kiss. His large hand covers her stomach protectively. Yep, these two are next in line to have a baby.
"Oh! How romantic." Isla waves a hand in front of her face. She turns to me and her face cracks into a big smile. "Well then, did you two make up your differences?"
"What differences?" Weston smirks, pulling me in for a kiss.
She chuckles, then her gaze widens, "Oh wow!" She gasps, then walks over