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“Nick. Oh my God. This is unreal,” she whispers, eyes glassy.

Chuckling, I kiss her and tease her clit with my thumb. “Good girl. You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

I pull out all the way to the tip, then thrust all the way in, setting a new pace. “I want you to give me one more, baby. Can you do that?”

Running her hand through my hair, she brings my mouth to hers. “I don’t think I can, baby. But you’re the expert here. Do your best… or your worst.” Then she winks at me and bites my lower lip, making my cock twitch inside of her.

“Such a tease.” I growl. “Even with my cock inside of you, you manage to tease me. Does this make you feel good?” I murmur against her lips.

“I love it so much,” she confesses, her voice breathy. “You’re always handsome, but when I tease you like this, you look so damn sexy and dangerous. It drives me insane,” my fiancée whispers between kisses.

“Oh, yeah? You like me like this?” I ask, biting her lip and picking up speed. “Then be a good future wife and come for me again.”

She moans my name, clinging to me, and as she unravels beneath me—I follow right behind, groaning into her neck as the most intense orgasm of my life takes me under.

It’s the most surreal thing I’ve ever felt.

And I know, without a doubt—I’ll never be the same again.

SEVENTEEN

Sierra

Two hours and three more orgasms later, we’re laying naked in bed, our bodies tangled together in a warm, languid silence.

My head rests on his chest, and one of my legs is between his. I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek, grounding me, anchoring me to something I didn’t know I’d been searching for.

His fingers trace lazy circles on my bare back, dragging along my spine with a touch so soft it feels like silk. I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of his skin—clean, masculine, with a hint of sea water and something dark, something purely him.

There’s something infinitely sexy about having Nick naked next to me. My heart is so full right now, I’m afraid to blink and realize this was just one of my dreams about him.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” he asks, tilting my head to look at him. His face steals my breath away—too handsome for his own good. A shiver runs through me.

“Is this real?” I ask, averting my gaze. “Last week, you were single, cycling through women like it was a sport, and I was in New York, without having seen each other for ten years. And now…” I glance around the room, and shake my head, laughing softly. “Now here we are—in your bed, about to be married in less than a month.”

“In three weeks,” he corrects me, eyes locked on mine. “We’re getting married in three weeks. And I regret the way I chose to live my life until you decided to give me this chance—forced or not—but I swear you were the only woman I wanted then and the only woman I want now. I’m shocked to discover I want it all so badly with you. I want you so badly, Ser.”

He shifts, turning us so we’re facing each other. His hand finds my face, thumb brushing over my lower lip.

“So beautiful. So mine.”

I bite his finger, and he chuckles.

“Tell me you’ll work with me by talking with me, baby. I was serious this morning, I need you to tell me anything that bothers you so I can improve my actions.”

My emotions are all over the place hearing him talk like this. My throat tightens, and I feel the sting of tears.

“I’ll try,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Now that I know you want me—and this relationship—I’ll try to be the best wife for you too,” I confess, kissing him slowly.

His scent, his voice, his touch are like a drug to me. I can’t get enough.

Breaking apart, I murmur, “I think we should probably check our phones and tell our families about the paparazzi today. Before any articles come out.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And we need to tell them this relationship is real. Somehow.” He pauses, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell your brothers you’re mine now—mine in every sense of the word—but they deserve to know.”

He climbs out of bed, scanning the floor for our phones. When he finds them, through our clothes, he checks his and curses.

“Fuck. This isn’t good. Thirty-eight new messages in the group chat I have with the boys. Ten missed calls from Liam, seven from Zayn, and I have some from my brothers, too.”