One Day Fiance

“You,” I whisper, and she pulls back, climbing into my lap once more. I pull her face to mine and kiss her until she whimpers, needing me as much as I need her. I tug her panties to the side, and there’s nothing but soft, slick heat as she lowers herself onto me, both of us freezing as she takes me fully.

In the darkness, we lock eyes. She’s undoing me, years of walls falling away like rubble, leaving me vulnerable. She’s inside me . . . my heart, my soul. And I can see a direct, open line to her heart too. Whatever walls she has are nowhere near as impenetrable as mine, but I still recognize the precious gift she’s offering by allowing me in.

I learned a long time ago to trust my gut, even when my mind says its wrong. And Poppy is the right thing for me . . . it's fast, crazy, and a completely ridiculous idea, but completely true regardless.

She’s mine, and the ruby on her finger means something more now. I’m not sure what yet, and that’s something I’ll have to discuss with her, but all I know is that she’s a hell of a lot more than a one-day fiancée, and this is about so much more than a laptop.

Poppy rolls her hips, grinding her clit against me as we kiss again.

I know what this will require. I need to tell her everything, the good and the bad. I’ll have to tell her about The Black Rose, and maybe even Mr. Big. But I want to be completely bare with her, no fronts or façades, because I’ve never been that with anyone.

Maybe not even myself.

But she deserves to know the truth. All of it.

I bite back the words that are rising because I don’t want there to be any doubt about their honesty when I have to expose the dirty deeds she doesn’t know about yet. So I save them, for now. But I can make sure she knows how I feel. I’ve got to do that. What I can’t say, I pour out in my touch, my hands tracing all the places I know Poppy likes, my fingers pinching her sensitive nipples and then gripping her hips as I start thrusting up into her. She rides me, her soft cries of pleasure giving me what I need.

Her whimpers are a salve for my soul.

I buck my hips harder and faster, driving deep. She falls forward, catching herself with her forearms on the back window, and I take advantage, sucking a stiff nipple into my mouth.

“Connor!” she gasps as she hovers on the edge of coming, her pussy tightening around me until it’s nearly like a vise. I thrust up, my balls tight and my body on edge, but I wait there in that blissful moment for her. I swat the round globe of her ass, and she falls apart. “Yesss” she hisses.

When I feel her orgasm in her quivering walls, I release myself. Maybe I say her name, maybe I don’t, but as I explode inside her, I know that I’ll never be the same. She’s changed me for good and there’s no going back.

I hold her close, our hearts beating in time as she sags against me. The only sound is our panting breaths until . . .

A truck passes by, his horn loud and obnoxious and making us both jump like teenagers caught misbehaving.

She laughs when she realizes what it was, calling out, “Glad you weren’t a few seconds earlier, asshole. I would’ve been really pissed if you’d messed up my big O.”

“I don’t think he heard you,” I say gently, running my fingers through her hair and kissing her forehead as my satisfied cock deflates. Slipping out of her is bittersweet, a loss of heaven, but I pray I’ll be invited back in . . . forever.

She groans, feeling the loss too.

“Your knees okay?” I whisper, and she wiggles weakly.

“I don’t know yet. I lost feeling in my feet several minutes ago, but it didn’t seem important at the time,” she tells me with a shrug.

I smile and reach for her toes to rub the circulation back into them, but that is most definitely the wrong thing to do because she squeals sharply and flails, falling over in the seat. “I’m ticklish! Don’t touch my feet!”

She somehow ends up kicking the window, leaving a Poppy-sized footprint right on the glass.

“Oops!” she says with wide eyes.

“You know what that looks like, don’t you?” I ask, and she tries to swipe it off. “No, leave it. I kinda like it there.”

Instead of leaving it alone, she presses her palm to the glass too. “Now people will wonder what kind of crazy positions you’re getting into in the back of your truck. They’ll be doing . . . this . . . and this . . .” She holds her hand up one way, her foot tilted the other, and then switches them around, trying to match the two prints at the same time.