Page 47

Hadley

May: The smell of oak, oranges, and orgasms

The real perk to this marriage, outside of breakfast made daily and copious orgasms, is waking up next to Atticus Foxx.

Why does he smell so good? Maybe I never truly appreciated the weight of a man’s body, or perhaps it’s the faint smell of him and me lingering in his hair—sex and oak.

Damn, I wouldn’t mind bottling it up and saving it for later.

He twitches, and then his tensed muscles relax as he hums against my neck. “Are you sniffing me?”

“Pinch me,” I say, smiling.

As he lifts his head to look at me, his hair a tousled mess, scruff longer, and eyes puffy with sleep, it’s stupidly sexy to see this man disheveled and barely awake.

His cock’s hard, pressed against my calf with the way he’s sprawled over me.

Leaning down, he drags his teeth along my bare shoulder, and then moves his arm down, pinching my outer thigh.

“Just needed to make sure this wasn’t a lingering fantasy from a really great self-induced orgasm.”

“Have I been a part of many of those?” he asks, resting on an elbow. Those gray-blue eyes become more aware of my naked body as he licks his lips and draws the pad of his thumb under the curve of my breast. Back and forth, and ever so lightly.

“More than I should ever admit.”

At that, his lips tip up. “Good,” he says before he leans down and licks across my breast. His teeth drag along my warm skin just before he draws my nipple farther into his mouth.

I’m painfully aware of how wet and needy nipple play makes me as his tongue plays with me.

Or maybe it’s any kind of play when the other player is Atticus Foxx.

I suck in a breath as his thumb brushes up along the lips of my pussy, up and down. He adds the slightest pressure, just enough to slip between the lips, reaching my clit and then moving lower. Up and down.

With his eyes locked on mine, I let out an exhale.

My body feels relaxed and ready for whatever he desires.

“It’s almost unfair how sexy you are when you’re looking at me like this,” I mumble lazily.

He doesn’t say anything in response, just hums and keeps the same lulling pace as his thumb glides effortlessly up and down.

I’m almost certain it’s the single most erotic moment of my life.

The thickness of his cock rubs up against my outer thigh as he shifts his body, moving higher beside me. Draping my leg over his hip, he opens a path to exactly where I need him. And holy shit, do I need him again.

“How many times?” I ask, just as he slides into me, both of us moaning as he stretches me.

He drags his cock back out slowly, just to its tip, as he asks, “How many times what?” Lifting my leg higher, from his hip to his waist, he angles himself deeper.

“How many times did you picture this when you were touching yourself?” I ask as I tip my chin up and absorb how fucking good he feels.

The way he fucks isn’t passive or aggressive, it’s confident and curious.

He fucks me deep and holds himself there, moving his hand from roaming along my body up to my chin so my eyes meet his.

“I’ve come to the sound of your laugh, picturing your lips on mine, your hands wrapped around my dick, my cock fucking your throat. I’ve fucked my hand just by your smell...”

My eyebrows raise. “Holy hot,” I rush out. A smile lingers on my lips when I praise him this time. “Dirty fucking daddy.”

Kissing my shoulder, he pulls out of me, moving his body from beside me to hover above me. “Say it,” he says as he drags the tip of his wet dick through my pussy.

I hum as I spread my legs wider. “Please, Daddy.” Without pause, he easily glides his slicked cock into me with one slow thrust.

The change in angle and the pressure of his weight on me has him hitting the right spot, so fully that I get lost in it. With his mouth running along my neck, arms holding tight, he fucks me with intention.

I exhale a breathy plea. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he answers. His voice is strained as he shifts his weight to his knees, gaining more leverage as his hips grind into mine.

Holding me tightly, he moves me exactly where he wants, and I push my fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

His forehead rests against mine, breath labored when he says, “I’m going to fill this pretty little pussy and you’re going to moan my name when I do. Got that, sugar?”

“Yes,” I gasp as he fucks me harder. My body feels weightless.

Tingled sensations heat my skin, and I can barely hold off what I know will be an orgasm that’s going to wreck me.

His body jerks, and he fucks his hips forward twice more before he moans a loud and deep groan.

The change in rhythm pushes me to the brink, and I moan the simplest answer to what he’s asked. “Yes, Daddy.”

My orgasm barrels through my body, and I suck in a breath, barely registering the way my thighs shake and the sounds I make. It’s not until we’re both breathless, slightly delirious, and momentarily speechless that I realize, there’s no coming back from this.

And I can’t stop smiling about it.

May: ...orgasms that end with heavy breathing and permanent smiles until sleep takes over. Nipple play, being called sugar, and screaming out “Daddy” while the world’s sexiest man moans against my ear. Perfection.

I scribble small stars around the words I just wrote.

It’s a page I know I’ll come back to repeatedly throughout my life.

It’s the laziest day I’ve ever had with another person.

Getting lost in the low music that’s playing on the record player I brought from my apartment, Ace’s fingers roam along my thigh as he checks emails on his phone.

If anyone were watching this right now, it would look very coupley and domestic—so out of character for who we are separately, and yet, it feels like the most natural thing being together like this.

It's new for me. Eagerly getting up and moving on with my day is typically how sex ends. If I have an orgasm, it’s good, and if I don’t, then I’ll plot how to get a few minutes in with my vibrator before I have to move on with the day.

Even before Hawk, it was like that. A couple of sexy encounters, but fleeting.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” he says without even looking up from scrolling.

“That,” I say, looking at the messy bed across the room. “And this.” I watch his fingers skate slowly along the crease behind my knee. “Seems to be breaking, or at least bending, the rules we outlined for this marriage.”

But instead of entering my anxious thoughts, he asks, “What happened yesterday?” Taking a sip of his coffee, he nods his chin for me to feed him a bite of the croissant. The easiness of this moment feels too good not to enjoy.

“Hmm, well...” I give him a bite and then take one myself. “Holy hell, this is delicious. And should I be concerned about your memory? I’d like to think what we did was kind of memorable?—”

He pinches my side, and I can’t help the laughter that bubbles past my lips. “I might be older than you, sugar, but you’re the one who’s been moaning my name. I didn’t forget a single thing about it. And quit calling me old; I’m in my forties—you’ll be here soon enough.”

“It’s too early to make such mean jokes, Atticus.” I smile.

He doesn’t hesitate to move closer to me, nudging himself between my legs. Curling a piece of hair behind my ear, he looks more serious when he says, “At Loni’s yesterday. What happened?”

Ah, yes. “Hawk happened. He found out we got married, threw a bit of a nutty inside Loni’s, and it attracted an audience.

” I tilt my head to the side, thinking through that piece more.

“Actually, it was Vinny, Prue, Romey, and Marla who stepped in and told him to cool off. Then it was a series of questions that I’m not even sure I answered. You know how they all get?—”

“Was it over?” he asks as his hands move along the sides of my thighs, almost soothingly. “With Hawk. When you kissed me—asked me to marry you—was it over?”

“Our situation was never more than casual. It was over as of Lincoln and Faye’s wedding. I let that linger on for longer than it should have. But I was the asshole. I used him for sex. I just thought he knew that. I thought that was what he’d been doing too.”

“Do you think that’s what we’re doing now?” He clears his throat and leans back to look at me. “Using each other?”

I wrap my legs around the back of him to get him to stop moving away. “I think it’s how this started. Using each other to get what we needed. Maybe that’s how everything starts—people looking for something and trying to get it from another.”

His phone starts vibrating on the counter. When I glance at the time, it’s well past a typical morning for him.

Looking at his texts, he says, “Laney is cursing me out about a shipment, and Griz is whining about not having breakfast this morning.”

He doesn’t see it, not like I do, but he takes care of everyone in some way or another. And he’s been doing it for so long, I don’t even know if he realizes it.

“You have everyone fooled, you know. You’re not all that intimidating; you just care a whole helluva lot.”

“Is that what you think?” he asks as he pushes my hair behind my shoulders, dragging his lips along my jaw. “Don’t start thinking I’m a good guy here, Hadley. You’ll be disappointed.”

Doubtful. I’ve been near plenty of bad people throughout my life. I know the difference.

He frames his hands around my face as he says, “I want you in my bed tonight, wife.”

Smiling, and way too giddy, I lean in to kiss his disturbingly perfect lips. “People just do what you want, don’t they?”

The scruff along his chin and cheeks is thicker this morning, and all I can think about is how much I like the scrape of it against my skin. He hums as he leans into my neck, dragging his teeth while peppering kisses. “I think you already know the answer to that.”