Page 42 of Merlot Marriage

I don’t answer, too busy using my teeth to nibble along the inside of her thigh while my finger takes the place of my tongue.

Ophie keeps up a litany of nonsense as I work her body. “I can’t believe we broke the bed. Although, I suppose the frame was pretty old. It was Daisy’s from our parents’ house. Maggie took it when she moved in with me after Frank broke off their—”

“Liefling?” I finally pull myself away from her hot center. “If you’re still talking about your sister’s bed frame, I am obviously not doing this right.”

Lifting her head, she gives me a guilty smile. “Sorry. You are definitely doing it right. I got…”

“Nervous?”

“Not exactly. It’s just easier not to think about the fact that you’re…you.”

I sit back on my heels. “Ophie, we don’t have to do this.”

My cock will never forgive me for saying that.

“That’s kind of what I came over for, though. I don’t know, Philip. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She tucks her feet under her and sits up. “When you’re not with me, all I can think about is how great the sex was and how much I want to do it again. But when you’re actually here and, well, doing it, I get all up in my head about if this is a good idea or not.”

She crisscrosses her legs on the couch, which is painfully tempting, but I force my eyes to stay locked on her face. “I don’t want to just fuck,” she adds in a voice so quiet it’s only audible because there is zero ambient noise out here.

I pinch her chin and pull her head down so I can press a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t really know what we’re doing, but I know it’s not just fucking.”

Ophie looks up at me as I pull back, a calculating look in her eye. “What happens at Sunshine stays at Sunshine?”

I tip my head to the side. “What does that mean?”

“This doesn’t change the fact that we have no idea where we’re going to end up in a few months—you might get a job anywhere. But for now, anything that we do here, well…it just means that we’re both here and it feels good, and there’s nothing long-term to it.”

“Just marriage.”

Ophie shakes her head. “That’s insurance.” She waves a hand, but I catch her wrist.

“No fucking anyone else, though.”

Her tinkling laugh fills the room as she takes an exaggerated look around the cabin. “Who else is there? Nate?” She makes a face. “No fucking anyone else.”

It’s not the conversation I really wanted, but it will do for now. Enough to stop me from second-guessing if she wants this or not. My dick goes hard at the idea of finally getting to claim Ophie without constantly worrying about the consequences.

Instead of letting my brain take over again, I scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom, our lips tangled and her legs wrapped tight around my hips. Her dress and my clothes are on the floor moments later. It takes only seconds for me to grab a condom from the pack in my bag, sheath myself, and climb over her.

Ophie blinks up at me, her eyes soft, her body stretched out beneath me. “Come here.”

She reaches up and pulls me into a kiss. Her hands slide into my hair, holding me in place as her hips rock against mine. Matching her rhythm, I nestle my dick between her thighs and deepen the kiss, pulling on her bottom lip with my teeth.

I release her lip before pressing kisses across her cheek to her jaw. Holding myself up on one elbow, I guide myself to her entrance and push in, groaning as her warmth envelops me.

“That feels so good,” Ophie says to the ceiling while I continue exploring her neck and chest with my mouth.

Running my hand along the side of her body, I marvel at the softness of my best friend. She presents herself as so put together, as someone who always knows what they’re doing and how. It’s not surprising I’ve felt a need to make her a little messy since the day we met. But now, I don’t just want to see her a little frazzled. Now, I have a burning need to watch her unravel beneath me. To make her feel so good, she couldn’t hold on to her self-control no matter how much she wanted to.

If her stream of consciousness as I massage her breast and drag myself in and out of her is anything to go by, I think I might be pretty close to making her lose control. “God, I love how vocal you are,” I murmur into her ear, taking her earlobe between my teeth.

Her only response is a gasp as I piston my hips a little faster, letting the friction between us build, and the tingle of an orgasm travels up from my toes.

“Is that good? Do I feel as good for you as you feel for me?” I ask more questions, urging her to keep talking. For once, her words tumble free without being checked by her filter or needing to say the right thing. I set a steady pace, digging my pelvis down into her clit at the bottom of each thrust.

“Do that again,” she moans when I pinch her nipple. “Please, Philip.”

Hearing her say my name is the reassurance my soul needed—knowing that she was here by choice, on purpose—and my body takes over. I throw one of her legs over my shoulder, using my knees and the new angle to slide deeper and deeper inside her. Branding her from the inside, and knowing I’ve loved her since the day I met her, even if I didn’t realize it.

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