The Accidental Countess (The Aristocrat Diaries 3)

My breath hitched as he flicked his tongue over my clit. I threw my arm over my eyes as he explored my wetness with his mouth, bringing me closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm.

An orgasm he denied me.

Matthew leaned over me and kissed me so I could taste myself on his tongue, and it was mere seconds later that I felt the pressure of him pushing his hard cock inside me.

I moaned as we came together easily, and I wrapped my legs around his waist to draw him further into me. It was almost as if all the stress in my body dissipated in a second, and the outside world ceased to exist in this moment.

He wasted no time moving his hips—his thrusts were hard and fast, and the orgasm he’d just denied me was building again in no time.

Sweat coated my skin. I gripped onto his shoulders and arched my back as pleasure washed through my body in heady waves. It built and built until I could no longer take it, and I cried out as my orgasm finally hit.

Matthew sat up and gripped my hips, moving into me even faster. My entire body tensed as his fingers dug into my skin, and the way he moved only served to draw my orgasm out longer.

His hit with a grunt, and he released my hips, dropping forwards. My legs fell to the sides, and I cupped the back of his head with my hand, breathing heavily.

We both were.

He pulled out of me and rolled to the side before he flopped down onto his back. I laughed, straightening my legs to stretch them out.

“Hello,” I breathed out through a laugh.

“Hi.” He rolled his head to the side. “Room service. Good idea.”

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?”

CHAPTER TWO

EVA

“So, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

I frowned at Matthew. He’d just gotten out of the shower, and he was wandering around in nothing but a towel. He was still dripping wet, and honestly, I was getting terribly distracted by it.

It wasn’t as if he was bad to look at. He had dips and muscles in all the right places, and the towel hung low enough on his hips that there was a smattering of dark hair just visible over the fluff of the towel.

The problem?

I knew what was under the towel.

I was president of the fan club of what was under that towel.

Actually, I was the fan club. As far as I knew, anyway.

“Can you put some clothes on? I won’t be able to focus if you don’t.” I dipped a chip into some ketchup and shoved it into my mouth.

He smirked. “I thought you liked me naked.”

“I do, but I also like being able to focus. I can’t do that if you’re naked and wet, Matthew.”

“Funny. Naked and wet is how I like you best, too.”

Arsehole.

I threw a cushion at him, but he’d already darted past into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the carpet and the sound of his laughter echoing in the room.

He returned a few minutes later, fully clothed, and I picked up my glass of wine and moved to make room for him on the sofa.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, sipping.

“It’s a bit out there,” he said slowly. “So I’d like you to listen before you throw me out of the window.”

I bristled. That didn’t sound like anything I’d like at all. “I’m not promising anything. In my experience, if I have to be told to listen, it means I’m going to hear something I won’t like very much.”

“You probably won’t,” he admitted. “But I’m going to say it anyway.”

“Mmph.” I put the wine glass down and pulled my legs into a cross-legged position. “Go on, then. Ruin my day.”

He shifted until he was comfortable, then reached for his drink. “I’m in a bit of a bind, and you’re the only person I can think of to help me.”

Yep.

This was going to ruin my day.

At least I’d had an orgasm before that happened.

I motioned for him to continue.

“I need to get married, and I want it to be to you.”

If it were at all possible, I’d have choked on thin air.

I stared at him. Had he really just said that? Not only was that the lamest marriage proposal in the world, it’d come from him?

Matthew?

The most eligible bachelor I knew?

Anti-marriage Matthew?

“Say something, Eva,” he said, uncertainty flashing in his eyes.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?” was what escaped my lips. “Have you lost your bloody mind?” I jumped off the sofa and held up my hands. “Look, I’m the first to admit I’m cracking in the bedroom, but even I know I’m not that good. Besides, it’s not like anyone gets married because someone is good at a blow job. Bloody hell, man!”