Page 32 of Ambrosia Kisses
"Are you complaining?"
"Hell no. Never."
"Good. Fuck me."
I grin, loving this side of her. Back then, she was so confident, so sassy. Seeing little pieces of the old her peeking out at me is sexy as hell. I may have broken her heart, but I didn't break her. Thank God.
"Yes, ma'am," I drawl, lifting her off me and then yanking her back down. The way she whimpers and clenches around me isheaven. There's no way this is going to last long. She feels too fucking good.
"Play with your clit, Dimples. Help me get you there," I demand, bouncing her on my cock as the sun beats down on my back and the smell of the sea and vines swirls in the air around us. "Make yourself come all over my cock."
She whimpers, her hand trembling as it slips down her stomach. I watch as she plunges it into her panties. Her fingertips bump my cock before another whimper rolls from her perfect lips.
"That feel good, baby?"
"Yes," she gasps.
"Good. Keep doing it. Don't stop until you're falling apart on my cock."
She obeys like a dream, playing with her clit while I pound into her. Every time her fingers bump my cock, my blood steams in my veins. It's a race to get her there before I explode, but I'll be damned if I get off before she does. That isn't how this shit works. She comes first, always.
"Ridley, I…I…"
"I know, Dimples. I feel it." I lift her higher, drop her harder. "You think I don't remember everything about you? How to get you there? What makes you wild?" I plant my lips against her ear, dropping her again. "You think I could ever forget how fucking perfect you feel when you're right on the edge, ready to come all over my cock?"
"Ridley," she whimpers.
"Never, baby. Not for a single second." I nip her ear. "Now, fucking come for me."
She isn't quiet. She comes with a sharp cry that echoes across the vineyard, pulling me over the edge with her. I slam her down on my cock, spilling into her as an answering roar leaves my lips.I don't try to hold it back. Fuck that. I'm never holding another damn thing back with her again.
"Why the fuck areyou smiling like that?" Bastian growls, scowling at me across the table at the karaoke bar later that night. He's in rare form today. And by rare form, I mean he's surlier than ever.
But I've noticed the way he keeps staring at our newest employee, Constance Maverick, as she laughs and dances with the girls in the middle of the floor. He can't keep his eyes off her.
She's been looking at him the same way. If they aren't already fucking, I have a feeling they will be soon…but that's not my business. Unlike my cousins, I don't meddle.
"Constance is an interesting woman," I say. Okay, maybe I don't meddle much.
Bastian's hand clenches around his bottle. "So is Paisley."
My bottle thuds against the table, which makes his lips twitch. "Touche, motherfucker."
His lips lift into a tiny smirk before his eyes dart back to Constance, and his smile compresses into a thin line. "Why the fuck did she have to wear that?" he mumbles, more to himself than to me.
I know he's talking about Constance, but he might as well be talking about Paisley because I've been asking myself the same question all night. She looks like a siren in her little black dress. It barely covers her round ass. I wanted to rip it from her body the minute I saw her in it.
The only reason I didn't was because I knew that would piss her off. And since I plan on spending the night inside her again, well…better not to push my luck.
"They always dress like that," Oliver mutters from Bastian's other side, staring at Lucy like someone kicked his puppy. Her dress is just as short. "High heels and those dresses are basically their armor. And you know what?" He glances between me and Bastian. "It's exactly why they always win the goddamn war. We're defenseless against that shit."
Trystan snorts beside me. "You're an idiot."
They're both right. It is why they win the war, and Oliver is an idiot.
"I'm serious," my little brother protests. "Just wait until you're married."
"He isn't wrong," Liam agrees, glowering at Lola. Braxton is seated beside him with his arm around his shoulders, glaring daggers at their wife.
