Chapter 34 Grace Nash

Hands on the Headboard

Five Days After the Wedding

He gently wipes the mess from my chest with a warm washcloth, and even that somehow feels good. He takes care of me, and my heart sinks deeper into him. We lay tangled together for a while, neither of us talking as we just breathe the other in and relax in the quiet afterglow.

I'm ready to go again.

I've never been ready to go again so soon after an orgasm, but Spencer Nash just does it for me.

In all the ways.

He's amazing, and he's mine. Somehow.

For now, anyway. For the next year.

And I plan to take advantage of the next year in every way I possibly can.

Starting with now.

"I want you," I murmur.

He leans up on his elbow and peers down at me. "Huh?"

I giggle as I realize he was almost asleep when my voice woke him up. "I want you to fuck me," I say, my cheeks burning with embarrassment at the admission.

"Oh, I plan to. Just give me five more minutes. "

I giggle as he gets up off the bed and pads naked around my room. He walks out, and he reappears a minute later with both our suitcases. "Condoms to the rescue."

He fumbles around in his suitcase before he produces the box swiped from his brother's house, and he pulls one out. He sets the packet between his teeth as he closes the box and tosses it back on top of his clothes in his suitcase, and why is staring at a naked Spencer as he grips a condom between his teeth one of the hottest damn things I've ever witnessed in my twenty-four years?

He pulls the condom out from between his teeth. "Can I take my time with you, or are you tired?" he asks as he rips it open.

"Take your time."

His eyes flash with something—fire, maybe—and he asks, "How do you want it?"

My brows push together as I don't quite grasp his meaning.

"Do you like doggie, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl…"

My cheeks burn.

"Missionary? There's something to be said for missionary."

"Um…I'm—I, uh, I don't have a preference."

His brows dip together. "You don't have a preference?" He wiggles his eyebrows playfully. "Cowgirl it is, then."

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what all the positions are called. Exactly how many women have you been with?" I ask, and it totally ruins the moment, but the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

He freezes, and he glances up at the ceiling as presumably he counts them off…but now Amelia has to be in his head, and I don't love that for us.

"Including you, fourteen." He ducks his head with a touch of embarrassment as he wrinkles his nose. "What about you?"

"Including you?" I ask.

He lifts a shoulder. "Sure."

"Three."

"Three?"

"Three. Bear in mind, I'm half a decade younger than you."

He chuckles. "Knock off that half-a-decade nonsense. "

"I better be your best."

He rolls the condom onto his cock and strokes it a few times until he's fully hard again. He walks over and stands in front of me. "No one else even holds a candle to you, Grace. No one has ever turned me on so much just by being in the same room as me—and certainly not enough that I could go twice in an hour."

Not even Amelia ?

Her wild boldness has to translate to the bedroom, but I suppose that's not exactly a detail I want to know.

"No one," he repeats as if he can read my mind.

I reach for him and pull his neck down until he's closer to me, and I press a kiss to his lips. "Let's try again just to be sure."

He chuckles, and then he shifts so he's hovering over me. His mouth is on mine when he aligns himself and pushes into me, and I grip around his neck as I wrap my legs around his waist. He drives into me slowly, luxuriously, tenderly, as if we have all night.

We kiss, and we hold each other. Sweet caresses drag along soft skin as names are whispered in vigilant devotion.

First, he fucked me.

Now he's making love to me.

And I feel it. I feel the love transferring from his heart to mine. I feel the intimacy of this connection between us. I feel closer to him as his fingertips glide sensually up my torso. I feel bonded to him in all the ways that matter, and every time he plunges inside, that closeness only feels stronger. The marriage only feels more real.

The love growing between us only intensifies.

He's lasting longer this time since he just came, and I'm reveling in every thrust.

After a while, he shifts us with barely any effort at all, and suddenly I find myself on top of him. He still manages to control our movement from the bottom, and this is the benefit of being with a strong and fit athlete like him.

"Hands on the headboard," he commands, and I set my palms flat on the wooden surface. He holds on around my ass, and then he stares up at my breasts as they hang over his face .

"Fuck, Gracie. Yes. Just like that." The way he rasps my name and adds an additional syllable to it while he's inside me is nearly my undoing.

And then he really starts to move.

"I love fucking this tight cunt," he says.

He's always so pulled together. Cool as a cucumber.

Hearing dirty talk fall from his lips while he thrusts into me is so out of character for him—and so damn hot.

He holds on tightly to my ass, and he slides in and out of me, the friction driving me to a place I'm not sure I've ever visited. It's beautiful and thrilling, magical and satisfying.

"Oh, God, yes!" I yell, throwing my head back as I keep my hands planted on the headboard. "Fuck me harder, Spencer!"

He does, and it throws me headfirst into a brutal, intense, jarring climax.

I screech my way through it, yelling out his name and praying once again as Oh God comes out of my mouth, clearly my go-to phrase when I start to come, and my reaction must spur him into his reaction, too, because he growls out a fuck, Gracie , before he picks up speed and thrusts up hard into me a few times before he freezes and lets out a mighty roar followed by a few more pumps that are just enough to take me to the end of my own release.

I drop my hands from the headboard and collapse on top of him. His hands are still on my ass, and he's still inside me, and I'm struck with the thought that I could stay right here for the rest of my life.

I want to stay right here for the rest of my life.

I know that's not realistic, but goddamn, this man is really something else.

If I could just figure out how to hold onto him longer than a year, I'd really have the dream.

But there's someone else involved in all this who has other plans, and she'll stop at nothing to get what she thinks she deserves.