Page 109 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend
“Take me,” I said. “As your wife.”
“My lawfully-wedded wife,” he said. “How appropriate. You are, after all, mine.”
I let out a tiny cry of pleasure as his hand gripped my arm, and he span me around. In one fluid motion, he unzipped my dress, elegantly laying it down on the floor neatly. I watched it, the beautiful, handmade dress, as I looked down and realized I was already almost completely naked beneath. And my nakedness was his—my husband’s, all his, as slowly he took hold of me, kissing the bare skin of my back and shoulders, as he stood against me, and I felt the throbbing, aching desire press into me as his body touched mine.
“Someone’s already ready, I see,” I said coquettishly, as Conor smiled and slipped off his jacket. On the bed, I undid the buttons of his shirt, as his hands reached around my body and found the places that made me sigh the most. As Conor’s hands felt between my thighs, as he delicately traced the soft flesh of my thighs, I felt the room spinning around me, as my heart raced and the sensations stunned me with their newness. Even though it had almost been a year since I’d come to know his body again, each time felt like the first.
Conor undid my bra and bent over me, easing my panties away. “I’ve got to taste you,” he said. “I must, I…I can’t not.”
No one’s stopping you, I thought. My heart was racing as he pressed his mouth to me, kissing me in the most secret place of my body, as his hands stretched around me and began to massage my breasts and my stomach, until I felt my fears melt away, all the tensions of the day, wondering whether it would all go right and if this time we could get right what we’d gotten wrong all those years ago. But as he gathered me in his arms and I eased into him, I knew that somehow it had all been worth it. He began to trace delicate circles over my clit, gently sucking at my pussy with his lips until my sighs began to drift out into the room, the afternoon sun warming my naked body.
“God, that’s good,” I said.
He murmured appreciatively, calling me towards him, bringing me out of myself until all I could think about was the deep desire running under me for him that had lasted me a lifetime. How could I ever get sick of him, knowing that it had taken to keep him? But I couldn’t wait, no, I had to have my husband, and before I could think, my hands had gripped his shoulders tugging him up to meet me.
“Come here, you,” I said. “I need you.”
“Need me?” he whispered. “But you have me.”
“I need you inside of me,” I said. “Please, don’t make me beg. Not today.”
Conor kissed my shoulder soothingly. “How could I refuse?” he smiled, reaching down and unzipping his pants. As his hand cupped my breast, he eased off his trousers until he was naked in front of me, his enormous erection making my eyes bulge.
How was it that I had the kindest, strongest man in the world, and somehow he was also the most well-endowed? I was the luckiest girl in the world, and I tensed with excitement, spreading my legs as he took me in his arms and I felt him press the head of his cock against my pussy. As he entered me, I moaned slowly at first, but I was already so aroused by the incredible oral sex that I barely needed him to be gentle. And yet I knew he wanted to be gentle, and I was astonished at just how gentle a man as enormous and strong as him could be, as he took me, diving deep inside of me and sending shivers up my spine.
“Oh God,” I said. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”
“Missed me?” he said teasingly.
“And your dick,” I said. “God, I missed that. I missed—AH!”
As he thrust inside of me, I let out a gasp, and suddenly I felt like everything had come back into color, as Conor gripped my wrist and bore down on me, thrusting slowly, deliberately. My hips were buzzing, my heart was racing, and my head was a mushy mess of delightful thoughts and feelings, about all the things that he could do for me that I could never hope of explaining. The safety and comfort of his embrace, the power of his manhood, as I wrapped my legs around him and rolled my hips, stimulating my clit against the shaft of his cock.
“Fuck me,” I said. “Like I’m yours. Because I am, Conor. I am.”
“You are,” he said. “You are.”
Fizzing with lust, I barely noticed that I was beginning to feel an explosion of need in my stomach, drawing my muscles taut as I pulled him down and planted kisses on his neck, whispered sweet nothings as he screwed me wildly. And by the time I felt my climax coming I couldn’t even tell him, only let my head draw back as I said, “I love you, Conor O’Shea. Do you know that?”
“Laura O’Shea,” he told me, “I love you too.”
We came together, an aching, rending sigh as we both cried out, spasms jerking our bodies as we held one another utterly close, before collapsing into the sheets where we kissed, man and woman, man and wife, two old friends at the end of a long journey back to the place we’d always wanted to be.
*
As I got changed into my party dress and we headed downstairs, I heard a car pulling up outside. “Who’s that?” I said.
“Who do you think?” said Conor slyly. “I couldn’t resist. I had to ask them up here.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we didn’t take too long,” I smiled, and went to the door.
Outside, I could see David getting out of his car. My brother was never that comfortable wearing fancy clothes, but I was more than delighted to see him in a pale blue three-piece suit and a dress shirt. He looked handsome and happy as he opened the back door of his car, and then I saw him.
Kyle was wearing the shirt that Conor had bought him on their trip to New York together. He smiled as they both skipped up the path to where I stood in the open door. As we got there, my son—my beautiful, strong, happy son—broke into a sprint until he’d thrown himself into my arms.
“Mom!” he cried. “You were amazing.”
“Oh baby,” I said, and held him close. “Thank you.”