Page 24 of Bourbon Wishes (Wine Country Alphas #3)

He cuts me off with a wild groan, his lips crashing against mine.

The kiss is all heat, steam, and desperation, our tongues twining together as my hands sink into his hair and his run all over my body.

It's like, now that the truth is out there, we're a quivering ball of need all over again, frantic to touch and consume and burn together.

I'm not even sure which of us starts removing clothes first. I just know that my shirt and bra disappear roughly two seconds before his shirt does. My hands are in his pants half a breath before he's tearing the crotch out of my leggings.

We tumble backward on the plush white rug with him on top of me.

"Jesus, baby," he groans, kissing a hot path down my body. "Bed."

"Fuck the bed," I whimper, bowing beneath him as he shoulders his way between my legs, his breath hot against my sex. I choke on his name as he flicks my clit with his tongue, groaning so loud I'm sure Sutton and Caleb hear him. I'm also sure I don't care.

I need this. We need this. Caleb will just have to deal with it.

"Heaven," he growls against my clit, thrusting two fingers inside me. "You always taste like heaven, Constance."

"I know!" I cry, so damn close to shattering. It's his fault. He's using his lips and teeth and tongue, playing me like I'm his favorite instrument. And God , he's so damn good at it. A master on his knees, paying homage to his art.

I crack apart in seconds, shattering with a sharp cry. He grunts, burying his face in my pussy like he intends to lick up every single drop I spill for him as I convulse beneath him, thrashing against the floor.

"Damn," he groans when I fall limp beneath him, panting for breath. He crawls up over me, his eyes my favorite shade of dark, devilish green. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his gaze on my face. "You needed that, didn't you, baby?"

"I always need you," I whisper, hooking my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. "Always, Bastian."

His expression softens. He dips his head, his kiss tinged with sweetness this time.

He breaks only long enough to allow me to breathe before coming right back for another one and then another.

By the time he slips inside me, filling me inch by exquisite inch, I'm breathless and dizzy, so damn high on him I don't ever want to come down.

"I love you," he murmurs, pausing to brush tendrils of hair away from my face. His gaze tangles with mine, the truth blazing in his eyes like twin suns. "I fucking breathe for you, Constance."

"Bastian," I whimper, tears welling in my eyes.

He makes love to me right there on the floor, lifting me to the heavens again and then again. Every single time I fall, I do it with those three little words whispering from his lips.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

They feel like heaven. And he feels like home.

" A re you okay?" he asks later, his hands drifting through my hair as we cuddle in bed, our legs tangled together and my head over his heart. I don't know what time it is. I don't know how many times he fucked me on the floor. I just know that I feel better than I ever have before.

"Yeah." I tilt my head back, glancing up at him, only to find him staring down at me, a soft smile on his face. It looks good on him. "Did you really sign over your shares of the winery to me, Bastian?"

"I did," he murmurs.

"You didn't have to do that," I whisper, my heart in my throat. "The vineyard belongs to you and your family. It isn't mine."

"The vineyard is still ours, baby. I still have my part of it and the restaurant." His hand drifts down the back of my head again. "But you co-own the winery with my siblings and cousins now. I'm no longer your boss in any way."

I swallow hard. "We could have found a different way."

"Not one I could live with," he murmurs. "Not if it meant you walking away. You love working at the vineyard. I wasn't taking it away from you." His eyes blaze with sincerity. "I'll never take a goddamn thing from you, Constance."

"I don't want to take anything from you, either."

"You aren't."

"I beg to differ. You just gave me a winery that makes millions of dollars every year."

"I gave you part of a winery that makes millions every year."

"Same difference," I mutter.

He just chuckles in response.

"I'm serious, Bastian. It's too much."

"Baby." He sinks his hand into my hair, tugging my head back the way he always does. "Yeah, the winery makes a fuck-ton of money. You know what it doesn't make?"

"Apparently rational decisions, kind of like you."

His lips quirk into the ghost of a smile before he sobers again.

"It doesn't make a life, Constance. It doesn't make me happy.

It doesn't make me wild. It doesn't make me lose control or so fucking hard I can't see straight.

You do that. So yeah, I gave you my shares.

I can live without whatever money it'll make me. I can't live without you."

My chest pulses, warmth running through me in a current. "You make it really hard to be annoyed with you, you know."

"That's the plan." His hand slides down my back before prowling across my bare ass. "You're less likely to let me put my ring on your finger if you're pissed. I'm hedging my bets here."

I blink up at him, shocked. He mentioned marriage earlier, but…I guess I was pretending I was just hearing things. Clearly not, though. Because he's looking at me like he means exactly what he's saying. "You want to marry me?"

"Hell no." He flips me over onto my back, crawling over me.

"I don't want to marry you, Constance. I fucking need to marry you.

I might not survive it if you don't have my ring on your finger and my kid in your belly soon.

" His teeth sink into the hollow of my throat.

"I need every little fuck in town to know you're mine. "

"We are not getting married or having kids just because you're irrational, Bastian Grayson!"

"Irrational?" He lifts his head, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"There's nothing irrational about wanting to kill every motherfucker who looks at you, Constance.

I know what you're worth. I know I'll never be good enough for you.

But you're naked and dripping my cum right now anyway, so you're mine.

I'm a lot of things, but stupid damn sure isn't one of them. I'm not letting you go now."

"You are good enough for me," I whisper, my voice fierce. "You're the best thing for me."

"Good," he grunts. "Then there's no reason for you to object to marrying me."

"You didn't even ask me," I complain.

"I just told you that I'm not stupid, baby." He nips my throat, hooking my leg up over his hip. "I'm not asking. I'm going to fuck you until you agree."

"Don't you dare!" I hiss.

But he dares. Of course he dares. And he wins. I let him think it's because he's exhausted me into submission, but that's not really it. The simple truth is…I'm not stupid either. I'm dying to be his wife.

He can't be any more of a control freak as a husband than he was as a boss…right?