Page 34 of The Billionaire and His Forever

Can I really put my faith in a happily ever after? Should I?

Maybe I should.

Maybe it’s finally time to trust that things will work out exactly as they’re meant to.

I wonder when the relationship changed for Abbie, from infatuation to something more. Hell, I wonder when it changed for me. The second she set foot on the estate at the beginning of the summer, there was a ripple effect. But I couldn’t take her flirting seriously. Not at first. My plate was full. I had too much drama with my ex, a sullen child, and I was drowning in work. Abbie was merely a staff member, albeit a dangerously tantalizing one, and an inconvenience.

Even as she trotted around my house, half dressed, clumsily attempting to woo me, I fought my attraction to her. I knew there was no way she’d be able to keep up with my needs. Not only that, but she’s the daughter of one of my oldest friends. She was my nanny. She was too young, too needy, too inexperienced for my tastes. Everything about her screamedoff-limits.

But God, how I craved her. So I gave in. Little by little, and then all at once, I gave in.

And now, I can’t imagine my life without her.

My run takes me through the property, and I push myself harder than I have in a long time. I want to sweat out the fear, sweat out the insecurities, so there is nothing but pure love left inside me when I watch Abbie walk down that aisle toward me. Time and again, I’ve proven myself to be a man who gets what he wants because I push myself until there is nothing left but assurances.That’s what I need right now.

My fit tracker buzzes on my arm to let me know I’ve hit the two-and-a-half-mile mark, so I finish my trek up to the top of a steep hill and then start to make my way back home. Air burning my lungs with every breath, I take in the stunning view of the dawn sky, alight with countless warm colors. I tell myself that everything will be perfect, that Abbie is destined to be at my side because I feel it in my gut. I ignored all the warning signs with Natasha, chalked the red flags up as me being young and wild at heart, resistant to settling down for all the usual reasons.

Now? I’m older. Wiser. More experienced than I ever could have imagined. Things have changed. I’ve changed. As I crest another hill, I search my mind for any doubts, any second thoughts, any hesitation—and find nothing. Nothing but excitement for my wedding day to unfold. To see my new wife walking toward me. To kiss her in front of God and everyone present. To make her mine. Forever.

Picturing our wedding night has me achingly erect, so as soon as I get back to the house I bolt upstairs to my room and jack off in the shower, head pressed to the wall, thinking only of Abbie’s perfect mouth and the love in her eyes. I come fast, and so hard it takes my breath away, but it isn’t enough. I get out of the shower still hard, still desperate for her as I think about our life unfolding together.

The house is silent. Mary and Esmeralda should have only just arrived for the day, which means my bride-to-be is likely asleep, waiting for the scent of the day’s first pot of strong coffee to coax her out of bed. The urge to wake her overtakes me, and I throw on my robe, then slip out of my room and head to the guest wing.

I knock gently at Abbie’s door as a courtesy, but I don’t wait for an answer. The door opens silently, and I find her curled up on the bed asleep, her breathing even, slow, and deep. Just as I suspected. One long, bare leg is kicked free of the sheets, and her golden hair lays spread across the pillow like a halo around her head.

She looks angelic and perfect, but I feel no hesitation about the fact I’m going to wake her. This is our wedding day. I’m going to give her the gift of an orgasm.

So many times in our history, I have taken what I want from this woman and left her aching in return. Not today. I drop my robe to the floor and slide onto the bed gently, spooning her so my body conforms to hers. Abbie stirs a little under the blankets and shifts herself back into me. Even in her sleep, she hungers for my touch. I have to admit, it’s an ego boost.

I pull down the sheet just enough to expose her shoulder and kiss it. That’s when I notice she’s wearing nothing on top. Intriguing. Sliding my hand down her body, I find my love completely naked, as if she’s been waiting for me to arrive. I press my hard length against the crack of her ass, through the blanket, and find myself groaning.

“Graham,” Abbie mumbles drowsily.

“Good morning, love,” I whisper in her ear, tugging the covers up so I can get underneath with her, nothing but skin between us. “I wanted to see you first thing.”

“Mmm,” she murmurs, pushing her bare ass into me again.

I slide my hand down her side, tracing the curve of her hip, giving her thigh a firm squeeze. She responds like a cat, arching and all but purring as her eyes remain closed. My fingers find her center, hot and slick, and Abbie moves her legs to give me better access to the deliciousness I want. Lazily tracing her vulva, I whisper in her ear.

“So wet, you naughty girl. Were you dreaming about me?”

“Maybe.” Her voice is still thick with sleep, but I can hear the sauciness coming through loud and clear.

“Tell me about it.”

She hesitates. Owing to her lack of experience, she’s still learning to navigate her sexuality, still learning how to tell me what to do, or what she likes. I’m as encouraging as I can be, but getting her to open up can take a little extra effort—effort that’s always well worth it in the end. I squeeze her nub between my thumb and forefinger and bite down on her shoulder to get her attention, my dick jerking when her breath catches in her throat.

“Tell me,” I growl.

“You didn’t say please.”

I grin at her attitude, loving the pushback I get from this cheeky woman. Loving how she doesn’t kiss my ass.

“Tell me. Please.” I slip my hand farther down to toy at her opening and she hisses with pleasure. “Tell me what made you so wet in your sleep.”

“Mmm,” she moans as I slide just the tip of my finger into her, using my thumb to continue rubbing her clit. “I was dreaming about our wedding night.”

“You mean tonight?” I prod.

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