from my forehead. “Petal, I want to fuck you now.”
“Please…” is the only word I can say.
He reaches for his pants on the floor beside the bed and grabs a condom. I watch his muscle-carved body in awe as he sheathes himself. I never thought this would actually happen. Yes, I’ve fantasized about it but now, it’s about to come true. Jude Kingston is about to fuck me.
The man is hovering above me, kissing me. There’s nothing romantic about this kiss. No, this is messy. Fast. Desperate.
Tongues and lust. Moans and need.
I let out a small animalistic sound when his teeth accidentally nip my mouth. So he does it again, purposely this time, gently biting down on my bottom lip.
He grins against my mouth.
I speak against his. “Please, Jude.” I grip the back of his neck. My hips roll into his, begging him for more.
Not breaking the frantic seal of our mouths, he opens enough space between our hungry bodies to guide his rockhard erection inside me. We groan in unison at the sensation of joining together.
He’s rocking down into me and I’m thrusting myself up into him. Working together, we’re hunting down pleasure in the dark.
Jude starts moving faster, going deeper, fucking me harder. We’re both frantic, out of control.
And then he grunts. His knee gives out.
He tumbles into me and rolls, pulling me as he goes. Now, I’m on top of him.
Concern crackles inside me. “You okay?” I whisper, brushing my fingertips along his sweaty hairline.
He responds with a hungry groan. “Ride me, Petal. Make me feel good.”
Normally, I’d be so aware of my body, everything exposed in this position. But the man’s desperate plea goads me on. The only thing I’m aware of his his pleasure. And mine.
The feeling tick-tick-ticks inside of me, like a countdown to an inevitable explosion. Pleasure flashes before my eyes in blinding red neon throbs.
We pump into each other, without any goddamned grace. Pace uneven and jerky and desperate. Our lips never part. I feel the vibration of his every groan, the shudder of his every heartbeat.
The timer runs out. The pleasure hits its peak. And our bodies explode into each other like dynamite.
Fire flashes in every color behind my closed eyelids as Jude’s perfect body tenses beneath mine. I grip the feeling until there’s nothing to hold onto but the aftershocks.
Breathing hard, I collapse into his arms, mixing his sweat with mine. When I look up into his gorgeous face, he grins. “Can I have you again? I just can’t seem to get enough.” His voice rumbles, and I think I die a little.
Draping my arms around his shoulder, I nod. “You can have me, Baby. I want you, too.”
32
Iris
Standing in the middle of my kitchen, Mrs. Kingston clasps her hands to her heart like she’s scared it will melt right out of her chest. “I still can’t believe you guys were able to pull this off behind my back.”
Lexi slings an arm around her mother-in-law’s shoulder and grabs a pretzel stick from one of the snack bowls. “You almost ruined our surprise, though. When you walked in on us in the greenhouse that day.”
“Well, I doubt my sons would have been able to keep this secret from me without the help of you sneaky girls.” She playfully pokes Lexi in the ribs with her elbow.
“Since when are those boys able to do anything without us women?” Lexi laughs and gives Mrs. Kingston another squeeze. The two of them are close. They interact like they’ve known each other forever. It’s hard not to be a little bit jealous. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. The little girls’ room is calling my name. Again.” My friend scurries off toward the bathroom.
The sound of children’s laughter fills the backyard. Under Jessa’s vigilant supervision, Callie and all her friends run around, wearing shimmery pastel-coloured ballgowns like princesses.
There are balloons everywhere and kid-friendly music streams from the speakers. Jude and Cannon work on draping banners between the big trees out back. Their father has booted the boys out of the way and taken over the grill.
Over at the drinks table, Penny and Walker are bickering over…something. I wonder what that’s all about. But despite their little quarrel, I can still see the cartoon-hearts and goofy smiles and sexual tension that’s always simmering between them.
Beside me, Mrs. Kingston picks up a snack from one of the platters and takes a bite. “Mmm. What is this?” she asks.
“Oh, that’s a cauliflower tater tot,” I tell her.
“Cauliflower?” She takes