The Rebel’s Redemption: Mershano Empire Series

by Foss, Lexi C.

“I know,” Wyatt murmured. “I’ll tuck him in, then maybe we can have some champagne on the balcony?” It was spoken as a suggestion more than a command.

  “I’d like that,” I admitted.

  “Good, because I already ordered some. It’ll be up in about five minutes.” He winked and took Jamie toward his room.

  Rather than change, I decided to wander outside and admire the midnight waves crashing against the shores below.

  Hawaii wasn’t a destination at the top of my bucket list, mostly because it was too common. I always chose the locations true adventurists thought of, like Iguazu Falls or Victoria Falls. Not that I’d been to any of those places. They were just on my dream list for some day.

  I could see myself wanting to come back here—if anything, just to hear Jamie’s excitement over the ocean again.

  “He’s out cold,” Wyatt said, joining me with a chuckle. “I saw through all that bravado about being wide awake.”

  “You’ve worked hard to exhaust him,” I replied, turning to lean back against the balcony railing. “Are you tired, too?”

  “Actually, no. I feel pretty wired.”

  The elevator let off a ding, interrupting my ability to reply, and a robust man in a suit arrived to drop off a pair of flutes, a bottle of champagne, and a bowl of strawberries. He popped the cork and served the drinks before leaving.

  Wyatt lifted the crystal glasses, holding one out for me.

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Mister Mershano?” I teased, accepting the drink. “Because your chances of getting me naked are pretty high already.”

  “Are they?” he asked, his lips curling. “I’m tempted to dare you to prove it right here, right now.”

  I raised a brow. “You might be surprised by my response.”

  Intrigue danced in his smoldering eyes. “Which would be?”

  “My asking you to hold my drink so I can comply.” I started to hand it to him, but he pushed it back toward me.

  “A toast first,” he said, his expression taking on an oddly serious note that didn’t seem to fit the teasing of the moment. “Well, maybe not so much a toast as a proposal to our future.”

  I frowned. “All right.” I couldn’t tell if that was ominous or positive.

  He leaned his elbow on the railing beside me, the warmth of his body blanketing my own. “I spent our week apart thinking about us, about Jamie, about our current living situation. And I have a few things to say on the subject.”

  And he wanted to do this while drinking alcohol?

  Yeah, that couldn’t be good.

  But he’d been so, well, close the last few days. Like he couldn’t stop touching me or being near me. That directly conflicted with the idea that he would want a break or to take Jamie from me, didn’t it?

  Actions speak louder than words.

  He chuckled, his free hand lifting to cup my cheek. “I’ve learned to read you over the last few months, and I can tell your mind just went to the wrong place. This isn’t about me taking Jamie. We’ve been over that a few times, so don’t go there. You’re his mom, sweetheart. He might not call you by the title, but we both know you’ve earned it. Which is what I want to talk to you about. And other things. Future things.”

  He set his flute on the railing and stepped into me, both his palms cradling my face now. “I need to start this over, okay? Because I had this whole speech planned, and I’ve already fucked it up.”

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “I didn’t say anything,” I managed to say, the humor in my voice coming through without my permission.

  “Your eyes did,” he countered. “Stop. I’m messing up again.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re still talking.”

  “Because you’re in my face.”

  “Avery.”

  “Wyatt.”

  “I like being in your face.”

  “I know. I like it, too. But I’d rather you kiss me.” I thought about the words. “Actually, no. I want you to fuck me. It’s been, like, a month, and I’m dying. And here you are, wanting to drink champagne when I’d much rather take off my dress, lie in that lounge chair right there, and force you to give me orgasms all night.”

  He laughed, the sound far too amused for my liking, particularly after everything that had just spewed from my mouth. And without the assistance of alcohol, no less. Crap.

  “Oh, no, don’t you hide from me.” He kept my face secured between his hands when I tried to glance away. “I will give you as many orgasms as you’d like, Miss Perry. Once we’re done talking.”

  “Maybe I don’t want them now.” He slid his thigh between mine, causing the slit up the side of my dress to shift and reveal an indecent amount of my leg. One hand fell to my hip, the other sliding to the back of my neck.

  “Don’t lie to me, Avery,” he whispered, brushing his mouth over mine.

  I never dropped the flute, my body quivering beneath this unexpected sensual assault. “Wyatt…” I swallowed. “Whatever you want to say, say it. Because I’m… You’ve…”

  Damn it!

  I couldn’t figure out how to properly respond. Not with his lips trailing across my cheek to my neck like that. I arched into him on a moan as he bit my thundering pulse, my body strung tight from days—weeks—of foreplay without follow-through.

  Which had mostly been my fault after the “mom incident.”

  But… “Wyatt…”

  His lips traced my collarbone, to the V-neck of my dress and down. He kissed my stomach through the material and went to his knee, his hands on my hips, his gaze devilish.

  “Do I have your attention now?” he asked, arousal deepening his voice.

  “You always have my attention,” I admitted. “Since the first time I saw you.”

  “The feeling is mutual, Avery.” His palms shifted to my upper thighs, holding me before him. “I’ve never been traditional or into formalities or the type to conform to society’s rules. You know that, right?”

  I grinned. “That’s glaringly obvious, yes.”

  “Good.” His thumb drew downward and then upward just enough to begin pulling my dress up an inch. He repeated the motion, sending a shiver of anticipation through me.

  I like where this is going, I wanted to say. But I refrained out of fear that he might stop.

  “I like you, Avery. A lot. Actually, you know what? Fuck that. I’ve fallen in love with you over the last few months, and I’m not afraid to admit that.”

  “What?” I couldn’t have heard that right. It… “You’ve fallen…?” No. No, he didn’t mean that. He—

  “I love the way you’ve raised Jamie,” he said, sending a shudder across my skin.

  Oh, that’s what he meant.

  “I love how hard you work,” he continued, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “I love how you won’t put up with any of my crap. I love that you aren’t afraid to break in front of me, how you let me hold you when you need it, and how you process things afterward. You’re proud. You’re beautiful. You’re intelligent. You’re damn near perfect in my mind, and Jamie couldn’t have a better mother in his life. You’re strong. You make me want to kneel and worship you for hours, days, weeks. Whatever it takes just to hear you moan my name again and again.”

  My dress began to shift upward again with the words, his gaze taking on a devious twinkle that had my thighs clenching.

  “Why are you saying all this?” I asked, the words sounding far breathier than I intended.

  “Because I want you to say yes to a future with me,” he replied, the fabric of my dress reaching my knees. “And I’m going to lick this beautiful pussy until dawn when you do.”

  Oh God… “Wyatt—”

  “I’m not done, Avery,” he cut in, my gown skimming the bottom of my thighs. “See, I had a chat with Jamie about this already, and we decided that I should stay. Forever. But to do that, I need you to agree to a few terms.”

  This can’t be happening… But the wicked glint in
his irises said otherwise. “Wh-what terms?”

  “Marriage,” he said, the word heavy between us. “I want you to be mine in every way, Avery. In every way. Until death do us part and whatever else is required. But what matters to me is that we would be together, as husband and wife, and raise Jamie as our own. Because that’s my second stipulation, Avery. You’re already his mom, so you should understand why I want you to adopt him, too. To share him equally, wholeheartedly, forever.”

  I couldn’t breathe, his words hitting me in the chest one after the other. The glass clacked against the railing as I fumbled to set it down, my knees feeling weak. “You… This…” Yeah, that came out right. What did I want to say?

  My skirt reached the middle of my thighs, causing him to grin up at me. “Are you going to say yes to me, Avery? Because I can smell your desire, sweetheart, and it’s making my mouth water.”

  “You’re not playing fair,” I whispered, my limbs tense from need and my heart racing in my chest from his words. “This… Are you… Is this a proposal?” Because it was the most unconventional one in the history of the world.

  His lips skimmed my inner thigh on a kiss that seared my skin. “Is it considered a proposal when the man knows his woman is going to say yes?”

  “So damn arrogant,” I breathed, grabbing the railing behind me and nearly knocking the champagne flutes off the edge in the process. “Wyatt.” His head had disappeared beneath my dress.

  “Are you going to shout your approval for me, Avery?” His tongue traced a path upward to my drenched thong. “Will you be mine forever?”

  “Oh God…”

  “No, sweetheart. Wyatt.” His teeth unerringly found my clit through the fabric covering my mound, eliciting a shudder of wanton need from deep within.

  “You can’t propose from beneath my dress.”

  “Did you miss the part about my opinions on society’s expectations?” The words vibrated my center, heightening the burning sensation growing in my lower belly. “I can propose however I want, and right now, I want to propose to this delicious cunt with my tongue.” My thong disappeared with a rip, my silk gown barely shifting an inch before Wyatt caught it and heaved the fabric over my hips. “Say yes, Avery.”

  He didn’t give me a chance to think, his mouth closing over my sensitive nub with a finality that had me seeing stars. I nearly fell from the onslaught of rapture flooding my body. My fingers wove into his hair, holding him against me, my other hand gripping the railing for dear life as he ravaged me with his tongue.

  “Wyatt…”

  “Mmm, I love how you say my name,” he murmured, nipping and licking. “But that’s not the word I want.”

  He actually expected me to accept his proposal? With his head between my legs?

  Oh, hell, of course he did.

  This was Wyatt Mershano.

  A rebel to the very end.

  And he wanted to marry me. Wanted me to adopt Jamie. Wanted to be with us forever. How could I possibly say no to that? Because I knew it wasn’t Wyatt acting out of pity or anything of the sort. No, he only did things he wanted to do. As was evidenced by his completely indecent proposal method. I’d never be able to tell this story to anyone. It would always remain our own intimate little secret.

  The day Wyatt asked me to marry him by demanding I say yes while stroking my clit with his wicked, dirty tongue.

  “Stop thinking,” he urged. “Marry me, Avery.”

  “Convince me,” I countered, deciding on a whim to play him at his own game.

  He pulled back to stare up at me, his lips glistening with my arousal. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s a dangerous proposition.”

  “Does that mean you’re not up to the task? Because I need a husband who can keep up, Mister Mershano.”

  Wyatt stood and grabbed my hips. “Fuck the champagne.” He lifted me into his arms and carried me through the still-open balcony doors, all the way to the bedroom, and tossed me onto the mattress. “I’m going to lock up in the other room. I expect you to be naked when I get back, my darling future wife.”

  I narrowed my gaze at his back as he sauntered toward the door. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

  “You’re about to say it over and over, sweetheart,” he called back to me.

  My lips curled. Yes. Yes, I am.

  29

  Wyatt

  Avery lay naked and ready for me in the bed when I returned, her legs spread in invitation. I shut the door with my foot, my hand on my tie, deftly unfastening the knot.

  “Have you given more thought to my proposal?” I asked, teasing her now. Because we both knew she was going to say yes.

  “Still not convinced.” The heat in her eyes telegraphed the lie, but I let it hang between us.

  “Mmm.” I started unbuttoning my shirt while she watched. “So, you require some convincing.”

  “I definitely do.”

  “My last name and financial situation are not enough?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not interested in that.”

  “Just my cock, then?”

  Avery lifted a shoulder. “Your mouth interests me as well.”

  “Being married for my body and skill in the bedroom,” I mused, my shirt falling to the floor. “And here I listed all your traits, calling you strong, hardworking, a good mother. But all you see in me are looks and sex. I’m hurt, Avery. Truly.”

  She didn’t appear apologetic at all. “Listing your traits would be a waste of time. You already know you’re amazing.”

  “Maybe my ego could use a little stroke.” I touched my belt while I said it. “Maybe I want you to say why you’d want to marry me.”

  Her pupils dilated, her tongue dampening her lower lip. “You never say what I expect and constantly keep me guessing.”

  “Is that a compliment or a complaint?” I wondered, dropping my belt on the ground and unfastening the top button of my pants.

  “A compliment. Every moment with you is exciting, even when I’m frustrated. You’re easy to be myself around. You’ve awoken things inside me I didn’t know existed. You…” She trailed off, her gaze dropped to my zipper as I slowly drew it down.

  “Go on,” I encouraged, enjoying this game.

  “You make me happy,” she whispered, her mouth quirking up. “That sounds stupid out loud, but it’s true. You’re a great dad. And partner. And lover…”

  The last word was uttered as I dropped my pants, revealing that I wore nothing beneath. I kicked the fabric away with my socks and shoes. Then I pulled my undershirt over my head, leaving me just as naked as Avery.

  “Since we’re engaged now, we don’t need condoms, right?” I asked, kneeling on the bed. We’d already done the whole history talk, and I knew she took birth control. However, for historical reasons, we continued to use condoms every time we fucked. I wanted that to change tonight.

  “I haven’t said yes,” she reminded me, her expression deviously playful.

  “Your agreement at this point is just a formality, but if you prefer I wear a condom, then—”

  She grabbed my wrist when I started to stand again. “No condom.”

  “Then you agree to be my wife?” I countered.

  “Fuck me and we’ll talk about it more.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Some would call that bribing.”

  “I prefer ‘negotiating.’ ”

  “My new sister-in-law has been talking to you.”

  “Maybe.”

  I pushed Avery onto her back, crawling over her to cage her beneath me. “You realize I never back down from a challenge, right?”

  “You are a rebel,” she taunted.

  “I am.” I settled my hips between hers, my cock hard against her damp flesh. “A rebel who is going to fuck some sense into you, future wife.”

  “All I hear are words and—” She bit off a sharp moan as I slid into her on a single thrust, her back arching up off the bed with the force of my entry.

  I cocked a brow. “You were saying?”
I penetrated her deep again before she could reply, causing her walls to clench down on my shaft. “Fuck…”

  No more condoms.

  Ever.

  Because the feel of her slick heat drenching my dick had to be one of the most amazing experiences of my lifetime. I wanted to revel in it forever, to live between her thighs and never surface. Oh, and to feel her tongue against mine while she groaned in pleasure. Yes…

  I bent to take her mouth, my hands framing her face as I balanced on my elbows over her. She pushed her hips up into mine, accepting me even deeper and taunting me into a sensual dance—one I intended to command. Her nails scraped over my back, down to my ass, to encourage my pace.

  But I wanted to go slower.

  And so, I did.

  Rotating my pelvis against hers at just the right angle to excite her clit.

  “Wyatt,” she said on a delicious moan that would forever live in my memories. “I’m so close… I need… Please…”

  “Still not hearing the word I want,” I whispered, drawing my cock out slowly to the head before slamming back into her. Just enough to push her upward without allowing her to fall over the edge. “Give it to me, Avery, and I’ll let you come.” I repeated the action, eliciting a growl from her chest that vibrated mine.

  “You already know,” she panted, her nails turning into punishing claws against my shoulder blades.

  I smiled against her mouth. “A man needs words.” I licked her bottom lip before dipping inside to taste her thoroughly. She trembled beneath me, her nearing orgasm palpable and oh-so sweet. “Tell me, Avery. Please. Tell me you’ll marry me.” All teasing aside, I needed to hear the words.

  “Yes,” she hissed, her fingers threading through my hair while her arm clamped down around me. “Yes, Wyatt. I’ll marry you.”

  Her words unlocked something inside of me, a fiery emotion that spread and was unleashed with my tongue against hers. A vow. A claiming. An irrevocable bond wrapped up in one.

  I love you, I was telling her. To my very soul.

  And she answered me in kind, only she spoke the words out loud. “I love you.”

  I kissed her, the pace between us shifting from teasing to a thorough declaration of passion unlike any I’d ever experienced. Not hard. Not punishing. Not rough. But destructive all the same. As if every barrier between us had shattered, and our bodies were mating in a manner that defied thought.