7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Winter

Despite Moore's obvious discomfort with people looking at me, I don't feel like we're being watched. I can tell he doesn't love being surrounded with me here—maybe he doesn't like it at all. He perks up when he notices me devouring my spaghetti though.

I'm a little pissed that the only warm meals I've had in the past two years have been few and far between. The tough blow of knowing how many meals have been just under my nose this whole time is soothed by the knowledge that Moore won't let that happen again.

And the fact that he wants to take me away from here? That fact feels even better than the steamy food filling my stomach.

"Tell me about your family?" I ask quietly, taking a sip of my peach-flavored drink.

Moore goes on to tell me all about his siblings and his parents. He's the oldest, Morris is the middle child, and Meghan is the youngest. They're all in their thirties now, but Moore isn't sure if either of his siblings are in relationships. He really hasn't contacted them at all for nearly three years.

I don't have any siblings so I can't say that I understand whatever complex relationship they've crafted over time, but Moore is sure that there won't be any hard feelings when he calls Morris.

He talks about his parents next, explaining that he doesn't think they're awful people. He even insists that the two of them raised him well. They are just fundamentally different from Moore. They thrive in boardrooms, making million-dollar deals and he feels suffocated by that life.

Frowning after I digest the information, I ask, "Won't you be expected to go back to the family business if you go home?"

Moore shakes his head. "They know I won't. I'll continue to manage this place remotely and hire someone to be my eyes and ears when we go."

When , not if.

"And you'll be happy? Without this place?"

His eyes are soft as he reaches for my free hand. "This place isn't the key to my happiness, Winter. It's been the only thing keeping me from being miserable, but it's not my happy place. You are."

My insides melt, warmth blooming from my chest and spreading all over. I like that we can be honest about how we feel, even if it's abnormally fast. I can't think of a person I've ever met that wouldn't look at me like I have seven heads if I admitted to falling for Moore so quickly.

They'd call it some sort of syndrome or defect—claiming that I only want him because he saved me. But what's so wrong about falling for the man who would plunge into certain death just for the chance to save you? I'm not going to panic and suggest slowing down. I'm not going to fear the way he makes me feel, because nothing has ever felt better.

"You're my happy place too," I whisper, kissing his cheek lightly.

Before we can go back to chatting, someone sits directly across from us. I look up, finding a somewhat familiar face. He's older, maybe old enough to be a grandpa, but he still looks healthy. Like a farmer might—strong but wise.

"Moore," he greets, nodding to my man before turning to me. "Winter, you feeling better? You don't look so blue anymore."

He was there when Moore saved me, I gather.

"Much better," I answer honestly. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember who you are."

The man chuckles. "No need to be sorry, you were all out of sorts last time. I'm Rob, one of the managers here. I see you two are getting along." His eyes dart between Moore and me, noting our proximity.

"We're getting married," I tell him proudly, testing the waters with an abrupt splash. I don't want to waste time on anyone who'd judge us for how we choose to live.

His eyes light up. "That right?" Looking Moore in the eye, his lips broaden into a smile. "I always knew you were smart, son. Good for you."

Surprised to find not a hint of judgment in his words, I extend my hand for a proper introduction. When his rough palm meets mine, I grin. "It's nice to meet you, Rob."

"Pleasure's all mine," he returns. "I've been waiting for the day that someone comes along to sweep Moore out of here."

"Rob is under the impression that I don't really belong here," my man grunts by way of explanation. "Not permanently, at least."

"I'm inclined to agree," I tease, smiling at him.

The three of us hold an easy conversation for a while and it's nice to see Moore interacting with someone he clearly respects. It all comes to an end quickly when I yawn though. My hero becomes a mother hen instantly. Excusing us and practically dragging me back to bed. I thought it was a little dramatic of him until my head hit the pillow and I realized how tired I really was.

"When are you calling your brother?" I ask sleepily.

"Later, sugar," he replies quietly, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Don't worry about a thing, sweet girl. Just sleep."

Snuggling into the soft blankets, I do just that.

Rousing awake without opening my eyes, I feel deliciously heavy arms wrapped around my middle. There's a thick wall of muscle pressed to my back and a hard bulge smooshed firmly against my butt. Moore must have climbed into bed with me and the news couldn't please me more.

Just feeling him hold me so close with his arousal so evident has my thighs clenching. My pussy is soaked, so much so that I can feel it without touching. Letting out a held breath, the hand crooked under my chin creeps down to my chest, fingers teasing my breasts through my sweater.

My teeth sink into my lip, hiding a gasp at how sensitive they are. My nipples are so stiff and I'd kill to have them inside my man's mouth. With Moore's body radiating heat, my clothes feel stuffy and I want to shed them right now. More than that, I want to tug off whatever fabric is separating my hero's stiff member from my weeping sex.

As carefully as can be, I maneuver my sweater, eventually getting it over my head and letting it fall to the floor. Sneakily undressing is only making my core throb harder, but I can't stop. Moore doesn't seem to be stirring awake and now with his hands on my bare skin, my desire continues to bloom.

Since my sweatpants are already loose, I move slowly to pull them down. Hooking my fingers into the band of my panties, I drag them downward too. I'm only able to wiggle the bottoms down to my mid thighs without moving too much.

Now nearly nude, I reach a hand behind me. I feel his bare stomach first, resisting the urge to feel him up. I'll lick his muscles all over, but right now, I want his cock. Easily finding his waistband, I'm relieved to see he's wearing some kind of stretchy sleep-pants. Slipping my hand inside of them, my fingers eagerly surround his length.

I didn't get to touch him before and now that I have, I know I'm going to become addicted to the feel of him. He's huge—too big for my fingertips to touch my thumb. I can't surround him fully and the realization makes my mouth water. He feels like velvet wrapped steel, and I wonder just how badly he could wreck me with this monster.

I need to know.

My fist squeezes around his shaft, pulling a sleepy moan from his throat. Shifting my hips without making a sound, I move his cock to line up at my slick channel. I've never tried fucking myself before and it would probably be smarter to have him warm me up with his fingers first, but I don't want that.

I want the first time something fucks me to be his throbbing dick. Nothing else will suffice. Pushing back further, I tease his tip, gliding it though my warm nectar.

"Winter?" he groans. Waking up and realizing the position we're in, he groans louder. "Fuck, baby girl. What are you doing?"

"I need it," I whimper. Using my other hand, I pull his palm off of my stomach and plant it on top of my tit. "I need you to fuck me so badly, Moore."

"Oh, fucking hell," he curses, squeezing my breast and my hip simultaneously. "You wake up aching for me, sugar?"

"Uh-huh," I mumble while squirming. "Please, I need you."

"Sweetheart, it's going to hurt," he tries to reason.

I can hear the desperation in his voice. He's trying to be a gentleman, maybe even suggesting that we slow down to prepare me more, but I don't want that. I want to be ravaged, pain and all.

"I know," I confess.

"You'll probably bleed?—"

"I know."

"I don't want to hurt you?—"

"I know ," I interrupt again. "I still want it and you do, too. You're so fucking hard, Moore. I want you to shove every inch of this right where it belongs. Please ."

Begging is what makes him snap. Moore holds me close and tight, notching his cock in just the right place before thrusting brutally hard. His girth invades my virgin channel, breaking through any resistance with the help of my gushing juices.

A choked scream falls from my lips, searing pain making my nerves protest. Moore growls, experiencing my snug little snatch for the first time. He's buried to the hilt, his swollen sac resting against the curve of my ass.

"Owww," I whine but refuse to move. Even though it hurts like hell, I don't want to stop. There's a devious part of me that likes the burn.

"Shhh," Moore coos. "I'll make it all better for you, sweet girl."

His hand on my hip leaves, moving down between my legs. Just the first brush of his fingertips over the sensitive bud there offers some relief. He stays still inside of me, gently making small circles around the bundle of nerves, slowly healing the sting.

Eventually, the pain seems to float away. Pleasure begins to take over as his talented fingers continue to toy with my clit.

When I let out a soft moan, Moore starts to move. He pulls his cock back, almost removing it entirely before sinking deeper again. It feels harsh at first, but as he repeats the action, it's smoother.

"More," I request, nudging my butt backwards.

"You want more, sugar?" he rumbles, his lips finding my neck. "Harder or faster?"

" Both ."

Moore takes that as permission to start pounding into me from behind. Each thrust like a passionate punch. Fire cracks through my veins as he stops trying to warm me up. Taking it easy to stretch me out around him was sweet, but I'm impatient and greedy. I'm addicted to the way he makes me feel—addicted to him.

"Mmmm," I moan, losing the ability to speak.

"Yeah? My sweet little thing likes it rough, does she?" he drawls, quickening his pace. When I can't reply, he keeps going. "You're doing so fucking good for me, sugar. Your first time taking cock and your pussy is accepting everything I give it."

His praise makes my whole body flush.

" Yesss ," I hiss in agreement.

Moore moans with a deep timber and starts to really work me over. He rocks his hips with hard but measured strokes, fucking me deep and fast. I feel myself clench around him every time he gets close to leaving me empty. It's instinctual. Like I can't help but crave his presence in my tight hole.

"I need to see you," he declares. It's the only warning I get before the covers are shoved off of us and I'm flipped onto my back. He somehow keeps his cock buried in me during the shift and wastes no time driving into me from his new position. "Yeah, there's that pretty face."

I must be blushing all over but I can't find the will to care.

Hiking up one of my legs, Moore spreads me open wider to accommodate his thunder thighs. "So. Fucking. Pretty."

He punctuates each word with a hearty thrust.

"I l-like looking at you too," I stammer, reaching up to set my hand on his heart.

I know he doesn't see himself as handsome, let alone sexy. But he's the most appealing man I've ever laid eyes on. So strong and so dashing.

With the pressure removed from my clit, I can focus more on feeling him inside of me. His punishing strokes are highlighted by how tightly my walls squeeze around his length.

"You have no idea how good you feel, sugar," he rasps, driving his hips forward. "Your sweet virgin pussy painted my cock pink, you know that? Can you see it, baby?"

Hungry eyes looking down eagerly, I gasp at the sight. His length pummels in and out of me, soaked with arousal and tinted with the stain of innocence. " Oh, God. "

"Yeaaah, that's right, sweetheart," he groans. "Look at that lovely fucking picture."

The overwhelming urge to come tumbles around in my gut as Moore propels forward more, crushing the weight of his groin against my clit. He's driving me wild, somehow continuing to build the need inside of me without pushing me over the ledge.

Our room fills with grunts, whimpers, moans, and curses. Our panting breaths filtered out by the sound of skin slapping sex. Everything is so hot, the back of my neck is beading with sweat. I'd be embarrassed if it didn't feel absolutely astounding.

Everything seems to blur around us, including time. Until I can't take it anymore.

"I have to…" I babble, voice shaking. "I need?—"

"You need to come, sugar?"

Whimpering, my fingers dig into his biceps. "Y-yes."

"Good girl," he growls, using his thumb to press down on my clit. The touch is so intense, my eyes roll. "Always tell me what you need."

Before I can cry out, Moore crushes my lips into a passionate kiss. Our tongues dance as it all becomes too much. Every touch feels like an electric current coursing through my veins as the bundle of tension in my center unfurls.

His intense eyes bore into mine but I can't keep looking. My eyes seal shut as the force of my orgasm hits. My throat cracks with a scream and my cunt clenches around Moore's prick with the strength of a vice.

"Fucking gorgeous," he snarls, breaking our lip's connection. "Tell me I can come inside of you, Winter. Tell me I can."

"You can, you can! Please fill me with your cum," I screech, nails digging into his muscular arms. " Please! "

Not a second longer and he bottoms out, his balls slapping my butt as every last inch of his cock becomes buried inside of me. He makes a muffled sound of pleasure, like he's holding back a shout.

His dick throbs inside of me, spilling hot jizz into my welcoming cunt. A second orgasm crests for me, not nearly as intense as the first, but more soothing.

"Fuck yes, sweet girl," he moans. "Milk the cum straight out of my balls just like that. Goddamn , you're squeezing me so good, baby."

I can only whimper, taking his finishing strokes.

When he eventually pulls his softening cock out, he collapses to the side, laying down next to me with an exhausted huff. Neither of us makes a move to get up or clean up. We just lay together, catching our breath and basking in the moment.

"Is it always that good?" I eventually croak.

"I haven't had sex in years, Winter," he responds, throwing an arm around my middle to snuggle up. "But I can promise you, it's never been that good. Ever."

Grinning to myself, I hum happily. "Good."

Moore chuckles. "You like being the best I've ever had, love?"

Arching an eyebrow at him, I tease, "You like being the only one I've ever had, handsome?"

"As long as I'm the last."

Of course, he will be. How could I ever see myself with anyone else?

"As long as you love me," I tease, giggling.

"Like I've never loved anyone or anything else, sugar," he says, voice dripping with sincerity. "I love you so fucking much that I called Morris before coming to bed and told him just that. I'm coming home and bringing my future wife."

My heart skips a beat and I swoon. "I love you too, Moore. So much that it feels impossible." Leaning over, my lips press into his chest. "When are you sweeping us away from here then, hmm?"

"The storm settled enough a few hours ago," he reports. "We'll leave tomorrow if you want. If you're ready…"

"I've been ready since you pulled me out of the water, my love," I confess. "I'll go anywhere with you, my hero."

"Good," he chuckles. "Because Morris insisted on meeting us at the airport. We'll take the helicopter from here to there and use the family plane to get back to Mass."

Biting my lip, a bit of nerves hits me.

"Do you think he'll like me? I don't want him to think I'm some… I don't know."

"Some young woman who's interested in our family's money?" he guesses. At my hesitant nod, he scoffs. "He'd never think that, not after I explained our story, sweetheart. And if he did, I'd kick his ass."

A startled laugh tumbles out of me. "So fierce, my love."

"No one gets to hurt you anymore, Winter. Not even with words. Not now that you're mine." His lips brush my hairline. "I'm going to get you the fattest diamond to put on your pretty left finger so that everyone knows it, too."

"Will it be sparkly?"

"The sparkly-est."

"Well, I can't turn down an offer like that," I whisper, emotion filling my chest. As I shift to get more comfortable, the stickiness between my legs becomes more evident again. "We should probably clean up, huh?"

Moore nods. "Do you want your slime again?"

Grinning, I shake my head. "I'll take some air-dry clay, though."

With a chuckle, he clammers out of bed and retrieves some for me. "And what are you making this time?"

"Your wedding ring, hopefully," I answer honestly. "I want to see if my blood will mix in it."

He stares at me unblinking as I tear into the unopened packet.

"You want to infuse my ring with your virgin blood?"

Smirking, I offer a wink. "Hot, right?"

"God, I love you," he breathes.

"Right back at you handsome," I reply. "Now come here and let me see if I can get any of that pink off of your cock with this. It's such a pretty color."

He agrees, letting me try to absorb what I can from his skin. And by the time the clay is ready to set, I'm pretty proud of it. Moore is too, seeing how he puts it on immediately. And after, he cleans me up with a warm, moist towel before taking me into the shower with him and making me feel like a princess.

Like the luckiest girl in the world.