Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Reaching back, I planted a hand on the headboard and started to ride Dax’s pumping tongue. But then he withdrew it with a slow swirl and went back to licking at my slit. I moaned in exasperation, an edgy need buzzing through my veins like bubbling champagne.

I’d woken to the feel of him lowering his body over mine, settling his rock hard cock against my pussy. There was nothing new about that—he liked to take me off-guard by pushing inside me as I was waking, and I liked to have him do it. But though Dax might be a fan of morning quickies, it turned out that this didn’t extend to Christmas morning.

There’d been no fast, hard fuck—unlike last night, when I’d strolled out of the en suite bathroom all decked up in a red, Christmas themed baby-doll.

No, this morning, he was instead set on delivering his signature brand of sensual torture.

While making his way down my body to my pussy, his mouth did a lot of skimming, kissing, grazing, and sucking. More, his hands did lots of molding, stroking, rubbing, and squeezing.

Basically, he’d pressed, pushed, and flicked every sexual button I had.

The arm he’d then thrown over my hips now held me down as he feasted. His gentleness ebbed and flowed, just like the rougher edge to his touches. But … there was a little too much gentleness.

Each flick of his tongue was a featherlight tease. Every nip of his tongue barely even stung. Each dip of his finger in my pussy was too shallow to do more than frustrate the holy hell out of me.

And he knew it.

So now I was the living, breathing manifestation of desperation and every part of me felt over-sensitized—my brain, my skin, my senses, my core.

I was done. Done. I couldn’t take anymore.

Weaving my fingers into his hair, I tugged in demand. “In me.” With a hiss, I jumped as teeth sank into my inner thigh in a punishing bite.

His gaze slammed on mine, stamped with male possession, as his tongue coasted over the tingling mark. “Not yet.”

I stubbornly pulled on the soft strands again. “Fuck me.”

Dax pinned me with a hard look. “No, I’m not stopping until you’ve come in my mouth,” he said, his voice coated in raw sexual power—a vocal enthrallment that riveted me every time. “Be good and take it, or this’ll go a lot slower.”

I eased my hold on his hair. “At least take things up a notch.”

“Not until you’re about to come.”

“Why?” I wasn’t proud of how whiny that sounded.

His tongue lashed my clit. “Because the wait will make you blow even harder. So behave like I told you.”

He resumed torturing me with soft licks, nips, and shallow pulses of his tongue. Later, I would appreciate the way he gave and gave, expecting nothing in return; the way he was so invested in ensuring I came harder than ever. But right now—while the slow-building, simmering tension in my belly relentlessly slithered and contracted—I just wanted to hit him.

In between swipes and stabs of that glorious tongue, murmured words of praise would fan over my superheated flesh, adding to the sensations. Again and again, I asked him to fuck me already. Again and again, he ignored me.

Instead, he kept on devastating my pussy while it squeezed and spasmed around either thin air or the tip of his tongue. Ugh.

God, at this point, my senses were wired. More, my skin was far too hot and my mind felt muddied by the chemical assault it had undergone.

I started to float, to drift, to sink into another mental place. But then I felt it happening; felt the tension build a little more, felt my release hover somewhere close.

I chased it, bucking into his mouth and letting out moan after moan. The orgasm crept closer and closer, but it was still too far away. I tightened my grip on his hair and clawed at the bedsheet, my every breath sounding raw and ragged.

“Time to let go,” Dax whispered, assertiveness embedded in each murmured word. “Come on, you can do it.”

My release edged even closer, causing my inner walls to superheat. Every muscle, inside and out, tightened. Slackened. Trembled. Clenched. The first wave began to reach toward its peak—

“That’s it, let go. Now.” He sucked on my clit and jammed two fingers inside me.

I fucking detonated. Blew. Soared. Lost all sense of the world around me.

My eyes closed as I floated on sheer bliss, I was barely aware of him crawling up my body until teeth nipped my chin.

“Give me your eyes, Addison.”

I opened them, my breath catching at the molten intensity in his gaze. A gaze that held mine captive as he hooked a hand under my knee and hiked up my leg. I curled my free leg around him just as he swiped the thick head of his cock between my folds.

Oh, and then he pushed it inside me. Just an inch. The barest inch.

I planted my hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the change in the air; the change in him. Feeling as his warm, lazy vibe faded and cooled … only to be replaced by an electrically charged sexual aggression that burned in his eyes.

I swallowed. “If you keep looking at me that way, I might swoon or something.”

His lips tipped up, but the dark glitter in his gaze remained. “You pass out, I’ll fuck you anyway.” He slammed his hips forward, drilling his cock so fucking deep.

Then he was railing me, unleashing the full depth of his need, incinerating every last bit of composure I had.

Letting out soft, moaning pants, I slid my hand down his back and gripped his ass, digging in my nails in feminine demand. Growling into my neck, he took me harder, brutal in his possession.

The air rang with whimpers, groans, grunts, snarls, and the slap of flesh against slick flesh. Already a second orgasm was steadily gathering in force, making me crave more, faster, harder.

With my calf, I pulled him deeper, grabbing at him, scratching at him, trying to drag him closer even though we were as close as two people could be.

He grunted in my ear. “Love walking around, you by my side, knowing this pussy is all mine. You’re mine, Addie.”

The possessive words soaked into my bones and sang in my blood. “And you’re mine.”

I gasped as he began to ram into me so violently the headboard slammed against the wall. And the gathering force inside me? It curled my toes, surged up my legs, shot up my core and ruptured like a freaking volcano.

I screamed. Spasmed. Arched. Clawed at him.

“Fuck,” he gritted out. Three pitiless thrusts later he exploded.

He released my leg and collapsed over me, burying his face in my throat. I weakly curled my limbs around him, not giving a single shit that he was squishing me. We lay there for endless moments, tremoring and panting.

When my lungs had finally stopped burning, I said, “What a merry fucking Christmas this is so far turning out to be.” I felt his lips curve against my neck. “On another note, when we get your cock insured, we need to also get your mouth insured.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” Lifting his head, he dragged his gaze—so covetous and proprietary—over my face, absorbing every detail. The pads of his fingers softly traced the curve of my jaw as he said, “Never forget.”

I was reminded, then, of the short conversation we’d had last night as we’d lay in bed on our sides, facing each other …

“You know I’m not a person who instinctively shares what they’re feeling, so you’ll know I’m not going to regularly say the sweet shit that people in relationships like to hear,” he’d said.

“Sweet shit?” I’d echoed, amused.

“So I’m going to tell you here and now—there is not one thing more important to me than you. You’re everything. All I need in one little package. I love you, Addison Mercier. That will not ever change. Not even for a single second. Never forget it.”

And yeah, I’d gotten all choked up and so only managed to get out: “Love you more.” I had tried to later give him a more lovey-dovey declaration, but he’d stopped me with a growly kiss and then fucked me spectacularly hard, so I’d resolved to do it often.

Looking up at him now, I threaded my fingers through his hair. “I’m so glad I suggested that fallback marriage pact.”

He flicked my nose with his. “I’d have come for you anyway.”

“And I’d have still said yes, pact or no pact.”

“I know.”

I chuckled. “Such arrogance.” I tilted my head, excitement flaming to life in my belly. “Ready to open your presents now?”

“Sure.”

When we settled on the living room sofa, I handed my gifts over to him first—cufflinks, a designer wristwatch, his signature cologne, a bottle of his favorite whiskey, and a new vintage liquor cabinet, since the other was scratched to shit courtesy of Gypsy. The collection of gifts earned me not only some gorgeous smiles but a deep, lingering kiss that made my toes curl.

He then passed over my gifts, which included not only the gold compass but a diamond necklace with matching earrings, a huge box of my favorite luxury chocolates, a new tablet—I’d recently dropped the other, which now had a cracked screen—and a selection of signed, special editions of not-yet-released novels. One of those was written by Nina Bowen, and I might have squealed just a little on unwrapping it.

“The latter is for sure your favorite gift, isn’t it?” It wasn’t a question from him; it was a knowing comment.

I shrugged, hugging the hardcover to me. “What can I say? I love her.” As a little secret smile plucked at his mouth, I narrowed my eyes. “Every time I mention her, you get a weird look on your face. What gives?”

Humming, he dipped his mouth to my ear. “Want to know a secret?”

“Of course.”

“You have to keep it to yourself.”

“Done.” I placed the book on the table and gave him my full attention. “Tell me.”

“The name Nina Bowen is a pseudonym. The author’s real name is in fact Kensey Mercier.”

Shocked as all shit, I gawked. “Your mom is Nina Bowen? No way!”

He smiled. “Yes way.”

“You’re fucking with me,” I breathed.

“It’s true,” he insisted, chuckling.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Recalling the look on her face when I’d gushed over her tattoo and made that comment about loving Nina Bowen, I felt my cheeks go hot. Oh, God. “You haven’t told her that I’m so totally obsessed with her books, have you?”

He grinned. “Of course I have.”

I groaned in mortification, slapping my hands to my burning face.

Another rumbly chuckle vibrated in his chest. “She’s very flattered that she’s one of your favorite authors.”

Struggling to process it, I shook my head and dropped my hands to my lap. “It’s a good thing I hadn’t known she was Nina when I first met her. I would have stumbled my way through our entire conversation like a complete tool.” Feeling a little panicked, I asked, “How am I going to face her at dinner? What do I say to her?”

“Well, this is just an idea, but you could talk to her as normally as you usually do,” he quipped.

“Yeah, that won’t happen. I’ll fangirl all the way.” I poked his chest. “I can’t believe you kept this from me. You should make it up to me.”

“I should? How?”

“By telling me why you like to choose what I wear.” But he’d likely hold back that answer just for the fun—

“It’s a way of marking you, I suppose,” he explained with a faint shrug, shocking me by answering so readily. He dragged his fingertips down my throat, adding, “If I won’t get to see you all day, you’ll at least walk out of the house wearing something I chose—for me, it feels similar to putting a brand on you.”

“So it’s an ownership thing,” I mused.

“Yes.” He nipped at my lower lip. “And I like that you want to please me. It gets to me when few things do.”

Huh. Since he seemed to be in a talkative mood, I pounced, saying, “I have one more question: If I hadn’t agreed to marry you, who would you have asked?” Knots formed in my gut as I awaited his response.

Dax’s eyes followed the path of his hand as he stroked my hair. “I didn’t have anyone else in mind.”

A single knot slipped away. “But you would have had to settle on somebody, so surely there was … what’s funny?”

Laughter in his gaze, he tapped my chin once. “Sometimes, I wonder if you really know me as well as you think you do.”

I felt my nose scrunch up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you should know perfectly well that I wouldn’t have ‘settled.’ If you had said no, I would have kept on at you and done whatever it took to change your mind. I’m good at persuading people to my way of thinking. You would have agreed eventually.”

His cocky answer made my brow arch even as it also caused the other knots in my belly to unravel. “I can’t even deny that.”

“You’d be lying if you did.” He planted a quick kiss on my mouth. “Coffee?”

I nodded. “Coffee.”

As he pushed off the sofa and left the room, I felt my gaze fly back to my new Nina Bowen novel, deciding for the sake of my mental equilibrium that I would pretend she wasn’t his mother. The cover was so beautiful with the gold foil and the deep blue—

“For fuck’s sake.”

Frowning, I stood. “What is it?” I headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You haven’t broken the—Oh,” I mumbled as I came to a halt beside him. Staring down at the dead animal, I swallowed hard. “Think of it as a Christmas gift.”

Dax blinked at me. “A Christmas gift?”

“Gypsy’s just getting in the holiday spirit.”

“Since when are dead squirrels considered presents?”

“The laws of the wild are different than ours. You know this.”

His lips flattened. “What I know is that her kills are getting bigger. She’s escalating.”

Yeah, kinda. “Well, at least it has its head.”

“A leg is missing. I’m thinking she probably ate it.”

I sighed. “You persist on thinking the worst of her.”

“I persist on facing that there’s something very wrong with that cat.”

I lifted my chin. “I will again note that this never stops you from allowing her to snuggle into you or sit on your lap.”

He gave a dismissive shake of the head. “Finish prepping the coffee machine for me. I’ll get rid of the squirrel. Let’s just hope it isn’t a mother, or there’ll be babies crying out for her, tiny and defenseless and hungry.”

I moaned. “Don’t say stuff like that, it makes my heart—God, you’re a dick,” I grumbled when I saw his lips bowing up.

“That’s not something you haven’t always known. Now let’s get this done. We haven’t got long before we’ll need to leave, and I want to fuck you in the shower before we do.”

∞∞∞

Sitting beside me at our parents’ table later on, Alicia nudged me and said, “Dad just smiled.”

“About what?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s one for the books. That he smiled at your hubby is, like, wow.”

Wait, he’d smiled at Dax?I glanced at the pair, finding them talking quite amiably—just as they had been for the last half hour. Like they were old friends. As if there had never been a point where Dane had threatened to shoot him.

Everyone else at the table was just as chilled, and both families were mixing well. Ollie and Caelan were in a deep discussion about something. Sitting across from each other, Harri and Drey were chatting away. Dax’s parents, my mom, Marleigh, and Raven were laughing while reading aloud dirty Christmas cracker jokes to each other.

We’d all finished our dinner at this point and, God, I was beyond bloated. I honestly thought I’d burst if someone so much as touched my belly. Apparently, a to-die-for dessert awaited us all, courtesy of Kensey. I sure hoped the Davenports and Merciers banded together for more dinners in the future, because the food was ace and seeing everyone getting along so well warmed my heart.

Dax splayed his hand on my thigh, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Why are you puffing out your cheeks?”

“Because I’m stuffed,” I replied. “Hey, I noticed you and my dad were chatting like buds just now. And you said it wasn’t possible for him to be nice to you. Such a skeptic you are.”

“I didn’t say he wouldn’t be nice. I said he’d never like me. And he won’t.”

I flapped a hand. “Whatever. He’s not glaring and stuff. I’ll take that as a win.”

Leaning into me, Dax whispered, “Out of curiosity, are you going to make eye contact with my mom at some point?”

“No,” I said just as quietly. “I don’t trust myself not to blush and start gushing about her books in a creepy stalkerish way. Stop smiling. It isn’t funny.”

He didn’t bother to shrink his grin. “Where’s the closest bathroom?”

I gave him directions and then shamelessly ogled his ass as he walked out of the room. I couldn’t help but let out a somewhat dreamy sigh. Well, it was a positively epic butt.

Alicia softly snickered, watching me. “I’d give you shit for that girly sigh, but I’d probably be just as smug if I’d bagged a dude that hot. I love your necklace, by the way.”

I fingered it gently, feeling my mouth hitch up. “It’s a present from Dax.”

“Hmm, he sure has good taste when it comes to bling. What else did he get you?”

“A few things, including a gold compass like the one from that romcom I love.”

Alicia’s lips parted as realization of its meaning dawned on her. “Oh. Going by the glowing look on your face, I don’t think I need to ask if his feelings are returned.”

I beamed. “No, you don’t.”

Her expression went soft as she studied me. “You’re happy.”

“I am.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “I want you to be this happy.”

“I don’t know if anyone could be as happy as you are right now.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you pregnant?”

“No. Not yet, anyway. But we’re going to start trying for a baby in a couple of months. That was the original plan.”

She lifted her champagne flute. “I don’t know if he’ll want to share you so soon. Don’t be surprised if he suggests altering the plan just a little. And here he comes now.”

I watched as he stalked back into the room, all slow and sexy.

Retaking his seat beside me, he gave me a faint, lopsided smile. “You good?”

“Couldn’t be better,” I replied. “You?”

He leaned in. “You love me?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

“Then I’m good.”