I whimper while backing into the bookcase. The shelves hold my weight, but my shoulder knocks a few books to the ground. Parker doesn’t even flinch. He slides my panties from my hips and then plunges his tongue into my slit, laving in long strokes that send fire shooting through my limbs.
I cup his face to push him away, but every lick sends me deeper into the abyss. His touch renders me helpless. And that’s just how it is with all of them—the way they command my body weakens me. There’s no way I could give in to something like this.
But would it really be so bad? I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out, distinctly aware of the muffled voices in the next room. If he eats me like this every day, I might not be so upset about our arrangement.
A low, rumbling hum vibrates my pussy, prompting me out of my thoughts. I can’t help how attracted I am to Parker’s strength. It’s something that can actually be useful. He can protect me when the others can’t. And maybe somehow I can even find happiness with him. If not, then I would settle for being content.
While I run my fingers through his hair, I hold his gaze, feeling how he claims me just a little more with each lick. I can tell he picked up tips from Soren—only my fair-haired knight would have told Parker how to eat like this—and that he took them to heart. Does he still regret that I’ve been shared if it makes me pliant to his wishes?
Uneasy tension lingers in my gut. I know he doesn’t want me for love. He just wants me for the price that comes with me. Protection would be second nature for him, a mere condition of our union. And sex? Fuck, sex would just be a competition.
A hot competition, I think while recalling the locker room with his ex-girlfriend. The kind that would get me off again and again, and…
I gasp, “Oh, fuck me.”
I clamp my hand over my mouth, squealing into my palm while his laves triple in speed. An orgasm rips through my core as I clutch his hair, trying to keep my legs from giving out beneath me. I chase his tongue repeatedly until I’m spent, limbs feeling more like Jell-O than actual body parts.
With a smug smile, Parker licks me clean, pulls up my panties and jeans, and then fixes my clothes. He stands up and nudges my mouth with his nose. “Kiss me.”
And I just can’t say no.
***
Returning to the den after having my mind blown feels like a downgrade. Paulina is talking my mother’s ear off about the wedding plans, going on about decorations, colors, outfits, and locations.
“I have just the dress,” Paulina tells me. I give her a polite smile as she continues, “It’s something I wore as a girl myself.” Her smile closes her eyes as if she’s just said something admirable. “I think it’ll look just darling on you.”
As I part my lips to speak, Soren wanders into the room. I study him curiously, wondering why he’s here and what the hell he thinks he’s doing. He gives me a pleasant smirk, greets me formally, and then settles onto the couch next to Parker. I’m used to them playing games when we’re alone.
But in front of our families? That crosses the fucking line for me.
I tear my attention away from Soren and focus on Paulina. “I already have a dress I’d like to wear, Paulina, but I appreciate the offer.”
“It’s tradition,” she insists while glancing at my mother. “You understand, don’t you, Ophelia? Tradition must be respected.”
My mother waits until Paulina looks away to roll her eyes.
I try to retain a sweet smile, but it’s a battle that I’m quickly losing. “No, thanks.”
“I can’t imagine you’ll say no when you see the material.” She stands despite my protests for her not to go through the trouble. Christ, I can see where Parker gets his issue with the word no. “Look at this darling thing.”
When she plucks the dress from a nearby rack, I nearly faint. The thing is ancient, far from the fashionable times in which we currently reside. I can’t tell if Paulina is being serious or if she’s attempting to embarrass me on a day that will forever be impressed in my memory.
I shake my head. “There’s just so much…lace.”
“It matches the garter very nicely.” She holds it toward Parker. “What do you think, sweetheart? Good enough for your bride?”
“Please tell me the garter is not used,” I whisper.
Paulina raises her eyebrows at me. “What’s that, dear?”
“I said I just want something that’s new.”
“After we fix this up, it’ll look just as good as new. Just you wait.”
Soren smirks and arches his left eyebrow at Parker. “You sure white is the right color?”
“Why don’t you hold it up and see how it looks on your skin?” Paulina offers while crossing the room. The fabric is suffocating in conjunction with Soren’s snide little comment. What the fuck is he doing here? “Look at that—it really brings out your eyes.”