Page 44 of Own the Eights Gets Married
He cupped her face in his hand. “The spa is open, ma’am.”
“I’ve never needed the spa more,” she answered, her gaze darkening.
He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock rejoicing in the wet heat of her sweet center.
He gave her a wolfish grin. “I see you’re ready for your treatment.”
“I need all the treatments,” she said, closing her eyes as he teased her, sliding his hard length across her delicate folds.
He pressed a kiss below her earlobe. “I’m positive I can accommodate your request.”
She pulled back and met his gaze as desire flashed in her eyes. “Shut up and fuck me!”
His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
Spa treatment Georgie meant business!
“Yes, ma’am!” he growled.
Lust coursed through his veins as he thrust inside her. Georgie rocked against him, and her knee bumped the recline button, putting them at the perfect angle for him to drive in, deep and hard.
“Yes,” she moaned, gripping the sides of the seat.
He dug his fingertips into her ass, guiding her body in a punishing motion that rivaled even that of her rapid-fire pen clicks. Thrusting wildly, he inhaled her scent, closed his eyes, and let the friction build between them.
Months ago, from the first moment he laid eyes on Georgiana Jensen, his reaction to her had been visceral and all-encompassing. Their first kiss had left him wired and wanting more. Georgie and that messy bun of hers had worked their way into his heart. Her smile owned him, mind, body, and soul.
“You’re beautiful, and you’re mine.Our love alters not with brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom,” he whispered against her skin, incorporating a little Shakespeare into their spa treatment before claiming her mouth in a ravenous kiss.
All the sonnet practice with Simon was starting to sink in. He couldn’t hold back his words as the intensity of their connection, and the heated friction between their bodies ignited into a raging inferno of sensation and desire. Thrust after frenzied thrust, their minds and souls melded together with no end and no beginning, surrendering themselves to pleasure.
Her breaths grew short as she wrapped her arms around him. She was close to meeting her release. He recognized the swell of her chest and the delicious grip of her core around his weeping cock. But he slowed their ascent into ecstasy, rocking her body in long, lusty strokes against him, deepening their connection and squeezing out each drop of hot, wet pleasure from their gasping bodies when something beyond the need for carnal release churned inside him.
This wasn’t a stress relief screw. It wasn’t a spa treatment. And it wasn’t even the excitement of doing the deed when they’d been instructed to abstain. No, this was more. This frenzied meeting of their bodies was a desperate plea for reassurance.
Can we do this?
Can we make it?
Is what we have together enough to endure the test of time?
Hovering on the precipice between pleasure and pain, he met Georgie’s gaze.
“I meant every word I said to you. You’re my everything.”
Gasping as if that was what she needed to hear to quiet the anxiety buzzing through her body, she met her release, writhing and tightening around him. He followed her over the edge, pulling her close, anchoring them together as if their bodies knew some far-off storm was heading their way.
She sighed, and he slid his hand into her hair, savoring the warmth of their bodies as they wound down from the rush.
“I really like the spa,” she said on a dreamy exhale.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I never thought of myself as a spa guy, but you’ve converted me.”
She leaned back and ran her fingertips down his jawline. “We should probably get going, huh?”
“Probably,” he said, trying to read her and see if the spa treatment worked in easing her anxiety.
She smiled, and, in the inky darkness that now surrounded them, he saw his Georgie.
