The Best Friend Zone

Her eyes are blue moons as she puts a trembling hand over her mouth.

My heart pounds in the silence where every second feels like a century.

“Oh. My. God, Quinn, I…I’d hoped and dreamed, but never expected this, so soon, I—” She drops to her knees in front of me and throws her arms around my neck. “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you! I’ve only loved you my entire life. Let’s do forever.”

At some point between the whirlwind of sticky, teary-eyed kisses she tackles me with, I manage to slip the ring on her finger. We also eat some of the goodies Granny made, pop the champagne, and dance to the music, laughing till it hurts.

It doesn’t take long before we can’t keep our hands off each other.

And now, knowing we’ll be man and wife, there’s zero reason to.

No need for clothes, either.

Good thing I’d planned on this part, too.

Grabbing the thick quilt off the shelf, I throw it over the floor as we shed our clothes.

Naked, looking more beautiful than ever with the tiny lights painting her skin, Tory runs her hands over my chest, digging her nails into my skin with a sweetness that makes me suck in air.

“You thought of everything,” she whispers. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I tried.” I kiss her, running my tongue along the seam of her mouth slowly, teasing her lips apart. Our lips dance as seductively as our bodies did only minutes ago.

Swallowing a growl, I stop the kiss and pull her down on the quilt beside me, folding my arms around her with a screaming desire to never, ever let go.

“I love you like mad, woman. Keep me crazy.”

Smiling, she presses my shoulders with both hands until I’m lying down. Then she straddles me with her peach-perfect hips I want to lose myself in forever.

“I love you, Quinn, more than anything.”

Grasping hold of her ass as she aligns her sweet, wet silk over my cock, we lock eyes and I watch her take everything, sinking deep inside her.

The moment the head of my dick fills her, pleasure rips through me.

Tory’s eyes flutter closed with a moan while she slowly moves down, finding her place on my shaft.

She rolls her hips slowly and sensually, and damn—I’ll never, ever get sick of this.

Claiming her with a fury in my pulse so hot it makes every last bit of me throb.

“I love the way you fill me,” she says with a soft moan, then lifts, gliding up the length of my cock until it slips out of her pussy before engulfing it again.

It’s enough to drive me crazy, but if I’m gone, I want to be her happy lunatic.

“Lucky you, Peach. I love filling you up,” I say, reaching down and finding her clit.

She leans her head back and whimpers as I tease her, showing her teeth.

“That’s it, darlin’. Let it go.”

She gasps and her eyes flicker open. “You keep that up, and…and I won’t last long.”

“Then don’t. Come all night for me. Come till you can’t.”

With another slurred whine of bliss, she rides me faster, faster.

Drunk on her pussy, I focus on her pleasure, holding back my own, driving up deep and hard as she loses control and the frenzy overtakes us.

When her orgasm hits, I don’t stop for a second, turning every thrust into a full body wave.

She gasps.

She twitches.

She clutches my arms as the raging momentum takes her into a second convulsing release.

The heat in my balls, my blood, my soul becomes unbearable.

We’re both gasping for oxygen when I can’t hold back, when a groan rips out of me, barely ahead of the torrent I’ll empty into her, planting my seed deep.

My own climax hits like an avalanche. It’s massive, intense, enveloping my whole body in pure white-hot pleasure.

I keep thrusting, fighting it till the end, dragging out every last electric spasm.

She drops to my chest, heaving and shuddering.

I wrap my arms around her, lacing my fingers through her auburn hair, holding her tight against my chest, loving her with my all, my best, and now my forever.

25

Goat Ourselves A Party (Tory)

Sure, it’s an old cliché to call a girl’s wedding the happiest day of her life.

For me, it’s nothing but the truth.

I’ve been pinching myself all day, making sure I’m not dreaming. When we’re an hour from the magic moment and I still haven’t woken up in my bed back in Chicago to drag myself to Jean-Paul’s studio…holy crap.

No dream. It’s happening. Like really and truly.

I’m about to marry Quinn Faulkner. The love of my life. The boy who was bound to be my forever from day zero.

I’ve been on cloud nine ever since he’d asked me and we’d set a date weeks ago.

If I’d had my way, we’d already be married. But I knew I couldn’t cheat my mother out of helping plan her only daughter’s wedding, so I let her whip through every last microscopic detail to her heart’s content.