Play with Me (With Me in Seattle 3)

I sink down onto him and grip his cock tightly with my lips and pull up, all the way over the tip and watch a little bead of moisture form there. I lick it off and then sink over him again. He weaves his fingers in my hair, but doesn’t try to control my movements. He just needs to touch me.

“I love watching your little pink mouth on my dick, babe.”

I moan and pull up, jacking him as I do, and cup his balls with my other hand. Before I can do anything more, he grips my shoulders and pulls me to my feet, and kisses me, deeply. His tongue dancing with mine, he pulls his shorts off me and lifts me onto the countertop.

“I remember being up here last night.”

He grins at me and kisses my neck and down to my breasts, holding onto my ass. He pays extra attention to each nipple, licking and pulling at them with his teeth, and one hand finds its way between my thighs.

“God, Will.” I moan. He smiles against my breast and finds my center.

“Fuck, you’re wet.”

“You’re sexy as hell, Will.” I lean back on my elbows and watch him kiss his way down my flat stomach, his fingers are massaging my folds.

“Watch, Meg.” He looks up and pins me with his hot, blue stare, and then down at his fingers, playing me like a musical instrument.

I sigh deeply and moan. “God, that feels good.”

He sinks two fingers inside me and moves them, oh so slowly, in and out, stretching me just a little at a time.

“Will.”

“Yes, sweetheart.” He leans down and sucks on a nipple, pulling it in his lips and I gasp.

“Need you, babe.”

“Where?”

“Inside me.”

He grins up at me, then watches his fingers again, and pushes his thumb against my metal, pushing me over the edge.

“Ah, shit!”

“Let go, honey.”

And I do. Holy shit, the orgasm works through me and I pulse and shudder against Will’s hand.

Suddenly, he pulls me off the counter top, spins me around so I’m leaning against the granite, warmed from my body heat, pulls my hips back and pushes himself inside me.

“Oh God,” he growls. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He eases all the way in and then starts to really move, pumping in and out of me, gripping my hips and ass in his huge hands until I think he’ll bruise me.

It feels fan-fucking-tastic.

“Spank me,” I tell him, looking over my shoulder to see his reaction. His eyes widen and then narrow.

“You want it rough?”

“Why not?” I ask him.

He gives me a naughty grin and smacks my ass, softly at first, and grips my hair in his fist, pushing my face down to the smooth countertop.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly.

“Fuck, yes.”

He smacks me again, harder this time, and I groan, loud.

“Again.”

He complies, just a little harder, and I feel the blood rush to my ass. His grip on my hair tightens and he pulls back, bringing me up so he can kiss my neck, biting and sucking it hard as he slams into me, over and over, harder and harder.

I grip the edge of the counter and push back against him, feeling the rush building in me once more.

“I’m gonna come.”

“Not until I tell you to,” He growls, and my brows climb into my hairline. Holy shit.

That’s fucking hot.

“Please?” I ask.

“Not yet.” He spanks me once more, then pulls out, spins me around, and lifts me, sliding easily back inside me and pins me against the fridge. There’s sweat on his forehead, his eyes are glacial and narrowed, and he’s panting as though he just ran seventy-five yards for a touchdown.

“I love this,” he growls and kisses me deeply, pushing harder and harder inside me.

“Will, I have to come.”

“Almost.”

“Will.”

“Almost, damn it.” His hands on my ass tighten and I squeeze around him like a vice, my hands pulling on his hair. “Now!”

We both explode, our bodies shuddering and shaking with the force of our climax. Will leans his forehead against my shoulder, his whole body shaking.

“Hey,” I murmur, caressing his back gently. “Will.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“Oh honey,” I grin. “I’m more than okay.”

His whole body sags in relief. “Thank God.”

He pulls out of me and sets me on my feet. “I want to carry you upstairs, but I don’t have any strength. You just decimated me.”

“Really?” Why this makes me so proud, I don’t know, but I’m preening.

“Oh yeah. Come on, let’s clean up.”

Before leading me out of the room and up the stairs, he leans down and kisses me softly, longingly. Beautifully. “You are mine, Megan McBride. Don’t ever forget that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Seriously, guys, this is just way too much.” I gaze down at the red Louboutin stilettos with lust-filled eyes.

“Honestly, we wanted to do this for you today.” I look up at my three friends and giggle. I don’t remember the last time I giggled over shoes.

Maybe that’s a problem.

Because, holy crap, these are just to-die for, and are perfect for the dress Jules is lending me.

The dress that I’m going to beg her to will to me when she dies because it fits me like a glove and I want to wear it every single day.

And now I want to wear these shoes every single day too.

“But you already got me the gorgeous underwear and took me to the spa, and really, guys this is just crazy. Who lives like this?”

Samantha smirks and smooths lip gloss on her plump lips, her blue eyes smiling. “We do.”

“Meg, you were born for these shoes,” Nat sighs. “They’re perfect for the dress.”

We are in my bedroom, and they’re helping me get dressed. Jules has spent over an hour teasing and curling and fussing with my hair to make it look, well, hot. It’s all up, but it doesn’t look stuffy or serious.

It’s fun.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you guys for all of this.”

“Oh please,” Nat waves me off and chuckles. “There is no need to repay us. We love you.”

“Well, there is one thing you could do,” Jules murmurs and bites her lip, her blue eyes wide.

“What?” I ask.

“Sing at my reception.”

“Jules…” I shake my head and prop my hands on my hips.