Page 54 of Forbidden Vows

I’ve never seen her this drunk, and in classic Cleopatra fashion, it’s fucking adorable.

I give up my interrogation. “Okay, Cutie. Let’s get you to bed.” I kick the door closed behind us with my heel. “Think you can stand?”

“I know it started as a joke on a bowling alley screen, but I sure like it when you call me Cutie.” I’ve earned another gentle tap on the nose. “I like it too much.”

“Okay, Cutie.” I look at the curved interior staircase and decide she’s safer in my arms once again.

I carry her to my room, laying her on the bed as she giggles. I help her undress and stay outside the bathroom while she goes. Try to avert my eyes as she stands there, naked, brushing her teeth, making her beautiful naked breast jiggle. She hops back to the bed. I consider being a total gentleman and putting clothes on her but decide she’s perfect naked and tuck her under the covers.

The lingering question nags at me, pricking at the back of my mind. She nestles further into the pillow as I ask, “Why did you feel you had to drink tonight?” I ask. “What were you needing to pretend?”

She yawns, her eyes closing as she murmurs. “That I don’t feel anything.”

“Don’t feel anything? For what?”

“For you, silly.”

Her words strike me in the center of my chest. I’ve never dreamed she’d see me as anything more than a fling.

She drifts off to sleep, mumbling something about hobbit children playing baseball.

I lie down beside her, holding her as I think about her confession. She murmurs, more nonsense—this time about a mascot—turning over on her side so I can spoon her. I’m so calm with her in my arms, I fall asleep myself.

I wake to a raging hard-on, my cock nestled in the crest of her perfect peach ass, throbbing with need.

Is this bad? Should I wake her up? She let me put her in a harness earlier. I don’t think she’ll mind… too much.

I grab a cheek in each hand, enjoying the warm softness of her generous curves in my hands, parting her ass so I can nestle the head of my cock where it wants to be, tucked into the ring of her slick entrance.

“You have the prettiest breasts I’ve ever seen,” I whisper.

I love her boobs. Always have, always will. It’s why I chose the low-cut dress for dinner tonight. Her right breast is a little larger than the left, always begging me to kiss it first when we fuck. Now I palm it, taking her nipple between my finger and thumb, rolling it.

Don’t tell the left one, but it’s my favorite of the two, ‘cause the right nipple always gets the hardest.

She comes to with a sexy moan, her hand reaching behind her and running through my hair. Tingles explode over my scalp. She murmurs, laughter in her tone. “Are you having sex with me while I’m sleeping?”

“Kinda,” I thrust against her, burying my cock in her from behind. This spoon fucking is new to me. Didn’t think there was a position I hadn’t tried. “Is that alright?”

“It’s too late for questions like that.” She leans her ass back, pushing against me. “But I like it. It’s… hot.”

“It turns you on when I take advantage of you?” My hand lowers, roving her soft belly till it finds its home in the warmth between her thighs.

“Kinda.” I’m growing harder inside her, thinking of all the naughty role-play games we can play together in the cave if that’s true. I’m too turned on to last long so I work her clit as I grind my hips against her. Only a few moments later, we’re both moaning, clenched together like a tight fist as we come. I want to fall asleep just like this, my cock inside her, my sperm all over her, my arms tightly wrapped around her?—

“I need a quick shower and a few hours of sleep. Mind if I go to my room?” She gets up, hiding her beautiful body with a discarded throw blanket she’s picked up from the floor.

I don’t want her to go. What happened to her hating to sleep alone? “No,” I say. “Not at all. Get some rest.”

And she closes the door.

Everything in me wants to chase her down, asking her what she means. Knowing she needs her space, I don’t. Instead, I drift off to sleep, wondering what she means. Does she have feelings for me? And if so, why would she need to pretend she doesn’t?

After a fitful sleep, I wake to a text on my phone.

She’s gone for sunrise yoga by the lake and breakfast at the café with Seraphina.

And Dame.

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