Page 45 of Honeyed

Crawling across the bed, I scoot toward her until our knees brush, and then we’re sitting face-to-face. Without another word trying to convince her, I simply take the rings out of the box, take her hand gently in mine, and slip off the simple gold band to replace it with the new ones.

“Beautiful rings for a beautiful wom—”

I don’t get the sentence out. Because before I know what’s happening, Alana launches into my lap, wraps her arms around my neck, and buries her nose in my neck.

Out of surprise, my arms go out to brace her waist and to keep me from falling backward. We’re hugging, her sitting in my lap on her fluffy white duvet, and it feels …

More.

So much more.

This is my best friend, the number one woman in my life, my wife to everyone looking in from the outside, and now she’s wearing my rings.

Real rings, expensive ones I purchased just for her to make her feel even more special. To make her aware of how much I value her.

Just a week ago, I rebuffed her. Told her I couldn’t act on the feelings we’ve had since we were kids. But something unlocked inside me during that conversation with Thomas, and the invisible cuffs I’ve always held myself back with are off.

So when she leans out of the hug, I pull her back, taking her lips in private the way I’ve wanted to a thousand times.

A shocked little gasp slips out of her mouth and into mine, which I swallow. Thrusting my tongue past her lips, I move with her, cradling her body until she’s leaning back against the pillows, and I come down on top of her. Our pelvises connect, the friction drawing moans from both of us as I grind into her the way I’ve always dreamed of.

“Touch me. Touch me everywhere.” Alana breathes against my lips as her hands push up and under the T-shirt I’m wearing.

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. The restraints are off, and nothing can stop me now, even if it tried.

Pulling my shirt over my head so she can get to the expanse of skin she’s raking her nails down, I connect us once more as I give her my weight and my mouth. Kissing her is a drug, an addiction that I’ll never be cured of as long as I live. I could do this until air ceases to pump into my lungs, and I’d die a satisfied man.

Only one other time. One time, when we were fumbling idiot teens who didn’t know the intensity of this act. Who were fulfilling a duty so no one else got there first.

It won’t be like that now. Unfortunately, or fortunately, in some cases, our lack of honesty and openness with each other has led to other partners. Thinking about Alana with other men has always made me green with envy and sick to my stomach. She probably feels the same.

All I know is we’re about to ruin each other for anyone else forever, and I couldn’t be happier.

“Feels like I’ve waited a lifetime to do this again.” I lean up on my knees, peeling the leggings down her luscious limbs, watching as all that creamy skin comes into view.

My dick aches against the jeans I’m in, the head throbbing with blood as it punches against my zipper.

“If you don’t touch me, I’m going to scream,” she threatens, my needy woman, writhing as I take my time with her.

“Let me go slowly, baby. I need to commit this all to memory.” I lock eyes with her.

“Memorize later.” She cups me through my jeans, and I falter, choking on air as her thumb strokes roughly over the material.

The thing that does me in, though? Seeing those diamonds sparkling on her finger. She traces the bulge in my pants with that specific one, making me shudder with anticipation at what’s to come.

“God, those rings on your hand … you have no idea how sexy that is to me, baby.” The nickname slips out again, and I watch Alana blush.

Actually, blush. My best friend, who has the mouth of a trucker and isn’t embarrassed by shit, is freaking blushing.

Slowly, I push her sweater, caressing her stomach and rib cage as she sits up to give me access to take it off. When I do, I bend, holding her as I whisper in her ear and remove her bra at the same time.

“You like that I bought jewelry to show everyone you’re mine?” It’s a taunt, but my fucking God, I’m turning myself on with the power and knowledge that I’m claiming her.

“About time you sent that message to the world.” She nips at my earlobe and then sucks, sending electric jolts down my spine and straight to my balls.

Then, to tease me for all the time I’ve wasted, she lies back. Rosy-pink nipples, stiff little buds, dot her breasts like a cherry on top of the voluptuous mounds I had wet dreams about when I was sixteen. She’s naked except for the pale blue silk thong clinging to her hips, and I undo my pants, needing to stroke my cock to this image.

Hovering above her as I take mental snapshots of the beauty laid out before me, I catch Alana smirking at me. This isn’t the hot young thing I spent afternoons lazing by the banks of the canal with. This is a confident woman who has grown into her curves and long lines over the years, tempting in her power and brazen sexuality.

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