Page 40 of One Pucking Heart

I furrow my brows. “There are two people in this room, and neither one of us is confused. I can think you’re beautiful, a walking sex goddess, love everything about your body including being inside it, and not be confused as to what this arrangement is.”

She scoffs. “I am definitely not a walking sex goddess.”

“Oh yes, you are. You’re amazing. I can’t ever remember coming that hard.”

Her chest rises, and she bites her bottom lip. I don’t miss the way her nipples harden, and I’m astounded by how easily my words affect her. If she lets us, we can have a lot of fun.

This has been one of the best days of my life.

I’ve fucked a lot of people, but I’ve never fucked my wife, and I have to say, hands down—amazing. Ten out of ten. Highly recommend.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ELENA

Beckett stands over the room service cart, picks a piece of bacon up from a plate, and plops it in his mouth. He’s wearing nothing but form-fitting gray boxer briefs, and even though I’ve just woken up, I’m having a hard time focusing on anything other than him.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered one of everything on the breakfast menu,” he says. He lifts silver domes off each plate. “There are crepes, eggs, waffles, pancakes, sausage, bacon, oatmeal, fruit, toast. I mean, anything you want, really. If you’re craving something that’s not here, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

I stretch my arms over my head and suppress a chuckle. “I think the food you ordered will do just fine.” I notice the silk robe Beckett has draped over the bedside table for me, and my heart twists at how thoughtful he is. I work my naked body out from beneath the sheet and quickly cover up with the robe. “I’ll be right back,” I say before hurrying to the bathroom.

The bathroom in this suite is bigger than the living room and kitchen combined in my old apartment. Beckett didn’t spare any expenses this weekend, that’s for sure. He’s made it so special from the moment I stepped out of his condo to see the limo. Not many people can say they’ve been through a Starbucks drive-through in a limousine.

I use the restroom and brush my teeth. Toothbrush in my mouth, I stretch my muscles. I’m abnormally sore this morning. Every inch of my body aches. Granted, I used muscles last night that I haven’t used in years.

Sex with Beckett is incredible. I can’t blame him for being a self-proclaimed slut. If I had that kind of skill in bed, I’d probably be a slut, too. The guy can move and kiss and lick…

My core starts to warm, and I shake my head. Nope. Calm down.

I can’t go there again today. Can I?

While sweet, this whole weekend is so confusing. It would’ve been in our best interests to have signed the marriage certificate at the courthouse, as I had planned, and called it a day. Kept everything platonic. Things were working. Yes, everything Beckett has planned for our Vegas wedding getaway has been amazing, but a fake wedding doesn’t need to be incredible. It’s not the most important day of our lives.

And now that I’ve had his magical dick inside me, it’s opened a whole other can of worms. Just thinking about the way my body reacts to both his words and his touch has me aching to feel him again.

I agree that we’re adults and can have casual sex if we want, but it doesn’t feel casual with Beckett. It’s far too good to be classified as such. We live, work, eat dinners, and binge shows together—if we add in sex, we might as well be a real married couple. And that’s not what either of us wants. There has to be a line.

I spit and wash out my mouth with water. Pulling in a breath, I steady my resolve. Today will be sightseeing as we had planned and nothing more. Last night was fun, but a repeat is too risky. It’s settled, then.

Exiting the bathroom, I rejoin Beckett.

“There’s my beautiful wife.” Beckett grins and extends a mug to me. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” I look at the amazing spread of food. “This looks delicious.”

“Well, eat up.”

Taking a couple of plates of food, I join Beckett at the table. He isn’t acting any differently than he usually does, but everything feels strange. The air between us is heavy and awkward, at least for me. This man, my friend, co-worker, and accomplice in my scheme, had his face between my legs three times last night and his dick inside me five. And now, he’s stuffing a pancake in his mouth and talking about the Vegas show options like we didn’t have sex to the point of utter exhaustion last night.

In fact, my ass cheeks were on this table as he ate me out at one point in the night. I sucked his dick against that wall. We did it on the bed, in the shower, and everywhere between. It was a lust-filled night of insanity, and now we’re sitting across from one another casually having breakfast like none of that happened.

“Is the sausage spicy?”

I swallow the sausage and egg in my mouth. “What?”

With his fork, he points at the sausage on my plate. “Is the sausage too spicy? Your chest is all red.”

Dropping my gaze to my flushed skin, I tighten my robe. “No, it’s fine.”

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