His Mail Order Bride (Alpha Men 1)

I sigh out loud.

Then I turn to fully face him and pull my tank shirt up over my head. I can’t stop my hand from hiding my breasts, though. It’s reflex, complete reflex.

“I hope I don’t regret this,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

“I’ll make sure you don’t, Carly. I promise.”

His pledge is still ringing between us when I push my pajama bottoms down and step out of them, leaving me in nothing but my panties.

Chapter Eleven

Stone

Finally! Fuck, I thought my balls were going to stay permanently blue. The last two weeks have been an exercise in torture. Enjoyable torture, because there’s been nothing in my fucking life that has felt as good as having Carly’s body wrapped around me while she sleeps—but it has still been torture.

I look at her, really look at her and I’m blown away.

Are the men in Georgia complete idiots?

How did someone as beautiful as Carly ever need to resort to an online site to find a man? It’s not that she’s just beautiful, either, although she is. It’s that she’s the entire package. She’s funny, sweet, and almost innocent. She’s caring, she does things for me that I’ve never had. I can barely believe how lucky I am and I sure as hell am not letting her go. The men in Georgia might have been stupid fucks, but I’m not. I’m keeping Carly and I’m tying her to me so deeply she’ll never want to leave.

“Take the rest of it off, Carly,” I urge her, needing to see that sweet body of hers completely naked.

I watch as her body flushes, and she shuffles on her feet for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. She’s got her arms wrapped around her breasts as if her life depended on it. Her head goes down and she pushes away that lacy fabric that has been teasing me. When she straightens back up, her face is almost as red as her panties were.

It makes me believe she’s innocent, but she’s not. We had that discussion. I didn’t want a virgin. I’m a big man, my cock is wide, I didn’t want to hurt a woman. I’ve never taken a virgin and I didn’t want to start with a woman I wanted to keep. It doesn’t matter if I’m her first, even if for some reason when I’m talking about Carly, it bugs me. None of the past matters, however, because I know I’m going to be her last.

That’s all that matters.

“I—”

“Climb back up here, baby,” I tell her, interrupting her. I’ve let her get too nervous and I don’t want her to talk herself out of this.

She walks back to the bed and, before she has a chance to sit down on it, I latch my hands on her hips and pull her up over me, giving her no choice but to straddle me.

The instant her body presses against mine and her pussy covers my cock, I want to groan.

“Fuck, yeah,” I mutter, giving in to the urge, and push up against her body as I keep pressure on her hips to grind her into me.

Nothing better. There absolutely could be nothing better than this right here.

“Stone,” she whispers, and I open my eyes to find her staring down at me.

“You feel so good, baby. I can’t wait to get inside of you.”

“Then do it, Stone. I want to feel you,” she says. She might be saying the words, but her body is saying something else. She’s still trying to hide her breasts from me, and blushing.

“Not yet, Carly. I want to make sure your body is ready for me. I know this is not your first time, but I still want to go slow. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

“You wouldn’t?” she asks, but it feels like her body locks solid in position with my words, almost as if she’s prepared to run away from me. It feels wrong. Did someone hurt her in her past? There’s a deep pool of emotion clouding her eyes. I can literally see it, but I have no idea why.

“No, baby. I promise, when I get inside of you, you will be more than ready. You will be begging for more,” I tell her, trying to reassure her. Then I pull her down to me and kiss her, hoping to push all of her doubts away.

Chapter Twelve

Carly

Oh shit.

What has Tally told him? Did they talk about sex? The thought of Tally, who is old enough to be my mother, talking to Stone about my body… about sex, makes me cringe. Why wouldn’t she warn me what she said to him? And I know it is supposed to hurt some when it’s your first time, but he’s acting like it might kill me. Realistically, with what he’s packing, I’m a little scared it might. Should I confess that I’ve never had sex before? Would that change what he’s doing?