Under His Touch

by Cathryn Fox

  She straddles me, and I grab her hips, position her right where I want to, right where I can worship her. I pull her down onto my face, and her sweet scent and flavor fill my senses and push me closer to the edge. She shamelessly grinds her sex on my face and I eat her, run my tongue over her clit and shove it inside her tightness.

  “Oh, God, Alec,” she says, and puts her hand on the headboard as she grinds harder, taking what she needs. That’s a girl. She rolls her hips, a sexy move as she whimpers and chases her orgasm.

  I pull her ass cheeks open, and slip a finger into her back passage. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been preparing her, and tonight—the last time I’ll ever have her in my bed—is the night I’m going to take her, everywhere.

  She bounces on my mouth, her clit so hard and inflamed I take it between my teeth, roll my tongue over it, and she cries out as a hot gush of liquid heat dribbles into my mouth and over my chin, announcing her orgasm.

  I growl and lap at her sweetness, tasting the depths of her as she rides out the waves. Panting and quivering, she needs time to come back down, but we’re far from done here. I grip her hips and lift her from my mouth.

  “Slide down,” I say.

  She shimmies down, and I position her so she’s on her knees, straddling my hips, her hot sex wide-open for me. So pretty. I slowly lower her onto my hard dick, and her hot tight walls hug me. Perfect. So damn perfect. I stretch her hot slick flesh with my girth and she wiggles, trying to force more of me inside, but I hold her hips and control the depth, even though I’m near delirious with need.

  “Alec,” she murmurs.

  “You want it all?”

  “Yes,” she cries out.

  “Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to give you everything.”

  Her eyes flash to mine, and my heart thuds when I see the need reflected there. I pull her down a little more, sinking in a few more inches, and as she opens wider for me, I wish to God I could give her everything. But I can’t. I just fucking can’t.

  Her body shakes all over and she gets hotter and wetter as I fill her. My balls ache and I power up, giving her every last inch of me, and she moans as I stretch her walls. She lifts up, sinks back down again, and as her pretty pussy devours my cock, the world around me melts away.

  “Ride me, Megs. Work your sweet pussy over my cock. I want you to come again. I want you to drip all over me.” Her movements become fast, more frenzied, and I inch up to take her bouncing breasts in my hands. She lifts up, sinks down and rubs her clit on my pelvis, and her entire body tightens around my cock. Jesus, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I close my eyes, struggle to hang on as her release coats me and drips to my balls.

  “Yeah, baby,” I say.

  The second she stops spasming, I sit up and lift her from my cock. Her face is flushed as I reposition her on the bed, until that sweet ass is in the air. Her body tightens, and I run my hand along her back to reassure her.

  “Hey, Megs. Do you want this?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she cries out.

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  “I know. I just... I’ve never done this before.”

  I run my fingers over her spine, then gently slide them between her creamy ass cheeks. “I know.” Christ, the fact that she trusts me with her body like this. It’s an honor. “I can make it good for you,” I assure her.

  “I like the sensations when you put your finger in me,” she says, and I love how open and honest we’re being with each other.

  “If at any time you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

  “I want this, Alec,” she says quickly, a new sort of desperation in her voice. “I want you to do this.”

  My pulse leaps. I get the sense that she needs to have me everywhere as much as I need to be everywhere. I lean over her, drop a soft, tender kiss on her cheek and slip a pillow under her hips. “So pretty,” I say, and sweep my fingers over her flesh until goose bumps form.

  I grab a bottle of lube from my nightstand, having bought it specifically for this occasion. I squirt a generous amount into my palm and rub it until it’s warm. I touch her cheeks, widen them and put my finger inside her. She begins to writhe and I move it in and out, desperate to mark this beautiful woman everywhere. “Feel good?” I ask.

  “It feels different, but nice. I like it.” Her body relaxes, opens.

  “Look at you,” I say. “All warm and ready for me.” I add another finger, and her breath rushes. I’m so goddamn hard just from touching her my balls are ready to explode. I spend a long time preparing her, then pour lubricant on my throbbing dick. I fall over her body, position my cock at her tight entrance and put my mouth near her ear. “Baby, you ready for me?” I ask.

  She pushes back, and my cock breaches her opening. “Yes,” she cries out. I glance down, revel in the way her beautiful body is taking me.

  I go painstakingly slow, giving her time to adjust to each inch, until I’m finally balls deep inside her, my eyes practically roll back in my head. She sucks in a breath and my cock aches with the need to release, but I won’t, not until I make her come for me one more time.

  She moves against the pillow, rubbing her hot pussy over the cotton, but I slide a hand between her legs, and take control of her stiff clit. I press against her slick cleft, and apply pressure as I work my cock in and out of her ass. She rocks against me, and when she cries out and starts coming all over my hand, I nearly lose my mind. I pump deep, once, twice and on the third time, I spurt my cum high inside her, giving her everything I can give her.

  “I feel you,” she cries out.

  I fall over her, press kisses to her back, and she softens beneath me, all warm and sated and sweet. We stay like that until I grow flaccid, and her breathing changes, slows.

  “Don’t move,” I whisper, and dart to the bathroom. I come back with a warm cloth to clean her. “Roll over,” I say quietly, and she’s like a rag doll as she slowly goes to her back. I inch her legs open and wipe her with the warm cloth. She moans in contentment and I crawl back in beside her, pull her close. Her soft brown eyes close slowly, sleep pulling her under. I tuck her against me, and cover us up, as my mind goes back to what her uncle said about falling in bed together every night, and more importantly waking up together each morning. Yeah, I want that. I want it with Megan. Is there a chance I could be a better man for her? That I could find happiness, like my cousin Tate has.

  Can I take that chance?

  Can I not?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Megan

  IT’S NOT LIKE me to sneak out in the middle of the night—after the most intimate sex of my life—but that’s exactly what I did after Alec fell asleep in his bed beside me. No way could I be there come morning, have him tell me to my face that our time together was over. I knew what I was getting into before I even went to his place.

  Let me put my cock in you. One last time.

  Before he committed to Sara, which we both knew he was going to, he wanted to have a little fun in the sack with me, a girl he wasn’t worried about losing his heart to. Now that he’s found a wife in name only—he made the decision Sunday morning, hours after I’d left his bed—I need to pull myself together. It’s been two weeks since I fled, two weeks where he and Sara have been photographed together numerous times, even at the annual golf tournament, and I need to get my head back in the game and start thinking about their wedding plans, because any day now, they’re going to announce them.

  Amanda sticks her head into my office. “Lunch?”

  Ignoring the storm stirring up my stomach, I give her my best smile, but she can see right through me, see the pain beneath the surface. Why oh why did I go and fall for him again?

  Again?

  Who am I kidding? I never stopped loving him.

  “Actually, I had a late breakfast, so I’m going to pass,” I say. I honestly hav
en’t had much of an appetite lately.

  She eyes me for a moment. “Hey, are you okay?” she asks, folding her arms as she leans against the door frame.

  “Perfectly fine,” I say, and lift my chin an inch, to prove I have it all together.

  “Megan,” she begins. “If you love him you need to tell him.”

  “I don’t love him.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “Even if I did, I couldn’t just tell him. It’s a little more complicated than that,” I say.

  “What I don’t understand is all the sex you two were having. He must have deeper feelings.”

  I think about that for a minute, remember the feel of his lips on mine, the way he took such good care of my body. Would a man not feeling something deeper be so gentle, so tender, so eager to mark every inch of me?

  “It’s just sex, Amanda. Two people having fun while they’re passing the time. Even if I did love him, we have different goals in life,” I say to remind myself. “And I’d never tell a guy I loved him when he’s made it perfectly clear he doesn’t believe in love or happily-ever-after. After so much loss, having my own family isn’t just something I want, it’s something my heart needs.”

  She frowns. “Okay, I’m here if you need to talk.”

  Just then my phone rings, and I’m grateful for the distraction, until I see who’s calling. “Thanks, Amanda,” I say, and slide my finger across the phone. “Sara, hi.”

  “We finally set a date,” she says. “And it’s soon.”

  I grab my pen, and note the way my stupid hand is shaking. “Okay, give me the details.”

  “It’s going to be a very formal wedding at the country club in two weeks. It’s the perfect spot.”

  Funny, Sara and I have different opinions on the perfect spot. I want my wedding to be casual, my groom dressed comfortably, and I’d prefer it to be at a beach or a lake, not some snobbish country club. But it’s not my wedding, so I have no say.

  “Two weeks,” I say, not at all surprised they’re moving quickly.

  “No sense in wasting time.”

  I begin to tell her all the things that need to be done ASAP, like the menu, cake, dress, invites, photographer, flowers, etc., but Sara goes silent on the other end.

  “What’s the problem?” I ask.

  “The problem is that I have to be away for work.” Her voice sounds distant, like she’s driving through a tunnel. “Will you be able to just plan these things without me? Oh, as far as bridal party goes, I’m going to ask my best friend to be my maid of honor, and that’s it. No bridesmaids. I would have asked you but with you planning everything, there would be way too many complications.”

  “I totally understand,” I say. No way could I stand for her while she marries the man I’m in love with. “So you asked Jessica?”

  “Yes, and Alec is having Will as best man. All of New York’s most important people will be there. This can only do good things for my career,” she says, a hint of excitement in her voice.

  I still can’t quite believe the two are marrying for their careers. Doesn’t anyone believe in love anymore? I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are you telling me you don’t care about the menu, or, or—?”

  “Not really. This is your area of expertise, you know what to do better than I do.”

  “What about the guest list?”

  “I’ll email you mine, and you can work with Alec for his and all the other things you mentioned. The two of you can pull it together, I’m sure of it.”

  Work with Alec?

  That’s the last thing I want to do.

  With a headache brewing, I shake my head no, even though she can’t see me. “Sara, I don’t know—”

  “I’m going to be away for the next week. Maybe more. I have a convention in Atlanta. The firm is sending me, and I have no choice.”

  “What about your dress?”

  “Ah, can you just pick something for me? We’re the same size.”

  My head begins to spin and I take a deep breath. “I can’t pick out your wedding dress for you.”

  “Sure you can. We’re the exact same size. If it looks good on you, it’ll look good on me. I want to be a princess on my special day, so as long as it’s a ball gown, I’ll like it.”

  Years ago when I envisioned my wedding, I pictured myself in a ball gown. A real Cinderella. Now, however, I’d like something a little more streamlined.

  “I... Is Alec okay with me planning everything?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to run it by him. Would you mind? I need to get packed and catch a flight.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I just arrived home. I have to run.”

  My God, what kind of marriage are they going to have?

  One in name only.

  “Gotta go. Thanks, Megs, you’re the best.”

  I sit there, dumbfounded as the line goes dead. She seriously wants me to pick a wedding dress for her. The menu and other things I can understand, but a dress? That’s completely insane. I shake my head, and stare at my phone. How the heck is Alec going to feel about working closely with me. I haven’t talked to him, or set eyes on him in weeks. I take a deep fortifying breath, and shoot him a text.

  Megan: Sara has to be away for a convention, and she asked that I work on the wedding plans with you.

  I stare at my phone, watch three dots appear and then disappear. He must be writing and deleting, unsure of what to say. His response finally comes in.

  Alec: What do you suggest?

  Megan: I’ll need to meet with you to go over menu, guest list, etc. The sooner we get started the better. Do you want to come by my work, and we’ll put together a menu to start things off?

  Alec: Four o’clock okay?

  Megan: See you then.

  I must be out of my mind. With no time to waste, I pick the phone back up and start making calls, to set things in motion, and before I know it, the day is almost over.

  I glance up when I hear footsteps in the hall—heavy steps that can only be Alec’s. I smooth my hand over my hair after running stressed-out hands through it all day. I stand to greet him when he comes into view, his large frame eating up the doorway and completely overwhelming me. My mouth instantly goes dry. He does a quick sweep of my clothes, and in turn I look him over. Hair cut short, face clean-shaven, he looks handsome, composed...guarded.

  Keep it together, Megan.

  I give him a huge smile, and resist the urge to hurtle myself at him, and show him I’m the girl for him. But I won’t. Because I’m not. It’s over between us, and I need to remember that. “Have a seat,” I say, and gesture to the chair across from me, thinking about the last time he was in this office with me, and the limo drive we took later that night.

  Dressed in a suit that showcases his broad shoulders and fit body, he smooths his hand over his tie.

  I sit, and I’m about to make small talk when he gives a curt nod. “You wanted to talk to me about a menu?” he says, getting right down to business.

  All righty, then.

  “As you know, Amanda will be catering, and thank you for that, by the way. She’s thrilled.”

  “Her food is amazing. I’ve been getting deliveries to my door for the last week.”

  “She is amazing, and this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her.”

  “For you, too,” he says, his blue eyes intense when they latch on to mine. “That’s why you agreed to this, right? Because of what it could do for your career?”

  “I... Yes,” I say, but there is a part of me that’s not one hundred percent sure of that. Maybe it was the thought of seeing Alec again, getting a glimpse of the young boy I once knew, and always loved, that had me agreeing. “Yes,” I say again, not wanting him to think there were other reasons. He continues to stare at me, and I reach for the menu. What the hell is going on with h
im?

  “Here is Amanda’s menu. I’d suggest a beef, chicken and fish dish for the mains, and she does some lovely hors d’oeuvres to start the night.” I glance up, but he’s not looking at the menu, he’s looking at me. The intensity in his eyes sucks the oxygen from my lungs, and nerves flutter in my belly. I wipe my suddenly wet palms on my skirt.

  “I’m sure she does.”

  “Do you want to take a look?”

  “No, I trust your judgment.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say. “I won’t let you down. This wedding will be talked about for years to come.” He nods, and I wait for a response. When none comes, I say, “I hope your week isn’t too busy. I’ve booked us for cake tasting, flower shopping—”

  “Text me the times.”

  “What about tuxedos? I scheduled an appointment. Will you and your brother want my help with that? Oh, wait. Sara didn’t tell me a color scheme. Her favorite color was always lavender, but I’ll have to double-check that. You’ll want your tie and cummerbund to match.”

  “You’ll probably want to come to make sure we get the colors right. I know how you like to pick out my clothes.”

  Wait, was that a hint of humor? If it was, his face certainly isn’t showing it.

  “I have an appointment to look at dresses right afterward, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Sounds like you have everything under control,” he says.

  “It’s what I do.” I stand and he stands with me. I walk around my desk to open the door, and his body brushes mine. Sparks arc between us, and I suck in a fast breath when he cups my elbow, a show of possession. I spin to face him. His head is dipped, eyes glossy, like he’s a million miles away as his gaze fixates on my mouth.

  “Alec,” I say, my voice a breathless whisper.

  “Yeah,” he murmurs.

  My entire body responds to the need in his voice. But we can’t do this. He’s engaged now. “I’ll text you that schedule,” I say in my best professional voice, and his head snaps up, like he’s just been slapped.