Always & Forever

by Scarlett Avery

  “Nikolaj,” I yell out, trembling uncontrollably as I come undone all over his cock. A ripple surges inside me, like a tidal wave, carrying every part of me before it. It intensifies with every breath I struggle to take until I convulse around the man I love. He embraces me closer to sustain the strength of the consuming spasms as my voice lifts in high cries of euphoric surrender. I’ve lost all control and I don’t care. Shit.

  “Damn, hearing my name on your lips like this is going to make me lose it,” he grunts as he buries himself deeper and deeper inside me, thrusting with deliberate, no, almost savage abandon until he comes gushing inside me. He roars my name and pulls me even closer to him.

  “Dear Jesus,” I pray as my arms give out and I land on my forearms, dropping my head on my closed fists. Nikolaj still holds my hips in the air, breathing in heavy gasps.

  “My God, I love you. Even when you push every single one of my buttons and force me to give you what you want like a raging beast, you still own my heart.”

  I giggle feebly. “I love you too, baby,” I pant, still trying to level out my heartbeat. “I knew I was going to pay dearly for my effrontery, but this is way more than I bargained for.”

  “Are you okay?” Nikolaj has no shame whatsoever in dominating me completely, but he’s always quick at making sure we’re on the same page.

  I nod. “I am. You showered me with such fierce and unrestrained passion, I feared I wasn’t going to make it. I’m pretty certain you’ll have to carry me for the rest of the afternoon. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to use my legs again—not after that.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” I hear the concern in his voice.

  “Nah, don’t be. I can’t get enough of your untamed nature when you’re this aroused. I wouldn’t change a thing. You sexed me up just the way I wanted.” I smile, pivoting my head to catch a glimpse of him.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this feral with you,” he chuckles, caressing my ass. “How are your knees?”

  “I’m sure I’ll wear the telltale sign of our afternoon’s sexual delinquency for a while.”

  “I hope the shirt helped soften some of the impact of my fury.”

  “I’m sure it did.” I’ll be bruised, but I don’t care. These spontaneous and sensual interludes are what brings us closer and makes our relationship so solid. “Nik—” I hesitate.

  “Yeah, sweetness?”

  “Promise me one thing.”

  “Anything after the way you made me come.”

  “This won’t ever change once we’re married, right?”

  “What? Us having sex? Hardly.” He laughs.

  “No. Not sex.” I shake my head vehemently. “We’ve never had ‘just sex.’ It’s always been mind-blowing between us and I don’t want a few rings and a piece of paper to tame things. I don’t want us to become predictable. I want to have earth-shattering sex with you for the rest of my life.”

  “Ciara, I’m addicted to you and half the time, I’m lost in your love. I’ll never stop fucking you the way I like—fast and furious.” He chuckles.

  “Even after we have kids? Will you still want me as much as you do now?” I hate hearing the insecurity in my voice.

  This might not be the ideal location for us to discuss this since I’m still on my hands and knees in the middle of a lavender field, but so many people go from burning desire to extinguished fire in no time once they get married and start a family. I never want us to become one of those couples trapped in a sizzle-free relationship.

  “Especially after you’ve given me eight adorable little girls who look exactly like you and who will grow up to conquer the world and men’s hearts on all continents.”

  “Eight?”

  “Too many?”

  I shake my head. “You’re crazy.”

  “I have a feeling you and I are going to be very fertile.”

  “Funny. What if we have all boys?”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he mocks, caressing my exposed butt. “I’ll fuck you hard in that case as well. Once you’ve given me children, you’ll graduate from being my queen to being the empress of my heart and my soul. How in the world do you ever expect me to ever get tired of ravishing you?”

  “Smooth. Good answer.” Secretly, I relish every single word.

  “Seriously, love, it’s up to us to make sure we don’t descend down the road of boring, dull and apathetic sex.”

  “Thanks for saying that.” I smile, knowing he can’t see my face. “I agree, it’s up to us to keep the flames of passion burning between us for the next hundred years and beyond.”

  “You plan on being with me that long, huh?”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  “On the contrary.” He leans in and kisses the back of my neck. “Come on. Let’s get to the hotel in Cannes so we can continue what we started.” Wh-what? He wants more? Already? He extracts his cock from me and I immediately feel the void.

  My bum is still facing him, but I hear the rustling of his jeans as he pulls them back up. He circles me until I’m looking at his now scuffed expensive Italian shoes. He reaches down and extends his hands to help me up. “There’s no time like the present to start practicing making sure I always shower your body with amorous adulation.”

  Once I stand in front of him he warps his arms around me.

  “You can’t be serious. I’ve barely been able to catch my breath. I’m ready for a nap after the way you worked me,” I protest, resting my head against his naked chest.

  “If you think that’s it for the rest of the evening, you’re kidding yourself. I’m merely getting warmed up. It’s unconscionable for me to make my wife come only once a day.”

  “Future wife.”

  His lips curl up and it’s obvious he’s fighting off a smile. “In that case, future wife, I know you’ve got at least three more heart-stopping climaxes inside you. Let’s go unleash them.”

  Uh-oh.

  BOOK 6—ALWAYS & FOREVER

  Chapter Six

  Two months before the wedding

  I was really hoping to work from home today, but given the number of new projects Kayla’s dropped in my lap, I had to spend time briefing the small team I transferred from the Manhattan office. Trust me, I’m not complaining, but it’s been a really hectic week since returning from the south of France and this coming weekend will be even busier since I’m entertaining some pretty special guests from back home for the next few days.

  Since the Paris apartment is about to be taken over by a bunch of women, Nikolaj boarded his jet and headed back home to Copenhagen for the next five days. This trip was supposed to be a combination of business and pleasure for him, but it’s quickly turned into an intervention. Within the next few hours, Nik, his dad Jonas, Clara, Katrine, and Emma will sit down with Nicoline to share the big news. Nikolaj decided to call in his entire family after his sisters expressed their exasperation over his mom’s obsession with our upcoming wedding. That’s when he realized how out of control this really was.

  “Shit. They’re going to be here any second,” I say, flustered. I’m running around the apartment after a quick shower in the hopes of getting dressed in a flash. I only got home half an hour ago and thanks to my ace chef and my meticulous housekeeper, I only need to focus on getting ready before my guests arrive.

  The ride back home was quite eventful to say the least. I was sitting at the back of the cab of a particularly impatient French driver. Since I sent our chauffeur Jerome to Charles de Gaulle Airport, I was able to experience what it’s like for most Parisians to drive around the city at the back of a cab. My hot-headed cabbie was so eager to get me to my destination, he spent most of his time cursing and honking his horn. Honestly, I was so annoyed and if it weren’t for the fact that I was so pressed for time, I would’ve jumped out of his vehicle and hired another cab, but we’re talking about Paris in the middle of rush hour on a Friday and it could’ve been a long wait for another car.

  I’m stil
l hopping up and down on one foot in my bedroom wiggling into my jeans when I hear a series of quick knocks. “They’re here,” I say aloud. I zip up and quickly slide into my two-toned Chanel ballerina shoes before running to the foyer. I’ve been counting the hours and I can barely contain my excitement. When I swing open the door, I’m face to face with my two favorite girls.

  “You’re finally here,” I cheer, opening my arms as wide as I possibly can to embrace the petite blonde and the short brunette standing in front of me. “Oh, my God, Harl,” I scream, kissing my best friend on both cheeks.

  “Ci,” she squeals in response.

  “Sis.” I know we saw each other a few weeks ago at Mom’s wedding, but it still feels like it’s been too long.

  “I miss you so much now that you’re no longer living in the Big Apple,” Sofia says.

  “Yeah, this one has abandoned us and she’s joined the ranks of American socialites living the good life in Paris.”

  “Harl, are you mocking me?”

  “Nah, it’s my way of saying I’m totally jealous of your international status.”

  We all laugh.

  “Don’t just stay in the hallway, come on in. Mi casa es su casa.” I wave them in before turning my attention to our chauffeur. “Jerome, if you’d be kind enough to drop their suitcases in the guest rooms Viola prepared, that would be great.”

  “But of course, madame.”

  “Thank you so much, Jerome.”

  “Who’s Viola?” Both my sister and my best friend ask the same question in unison. Harley’s puzzled look is almost as hilarious as Sofia’s.

  “Viola Trindade is our housekeeper. She comes in three times a week and she stays for the entire day. When I lived in New York, I used to hire a housekeeper, but she only came every two weeks for a couple of hours. It helped a lot, but it’s nothing compared to this. Since Viola is here so often, I barely have to lift a finger. That woman declares war on dust and dirt like no one else I know.” I chuckle. “I’ve got to admit I really love how the other half lives.” I grin from ear to ear

  “Girl, you’re living large. You’ve reached the ranks of the rich and famous with your nearly full-time housekeeper, your full-time chauffeur in New York and Jerome in Paris.” My best friend nods as she takes in the art lining the walls of our large foyer.

  “Nikolaj justifies the New York driver by claiming he can’t handle the Big Apple’s traffic. I still drive when I need to or jump in the back of a yellow cab when I don’t want to deal with aggressive drivers. Jerome makes total sense because there’s no way I’m learning how to drive in Paris. It’s like learning a new language and I have to agree with my fiancé, you get so much done when someone else is focusing on the road.” I drag both women into the large living room, elated by our upcoming all-girls weekend.

  “I love hearing that word roll off of your tongue, girl.”

  “I have to agree with Harley. Hearing you say ‘fiancé’ blows my mind every time.”

  “The two of you are exaggerating,” I say, rolling my eyes at my sister and my best friend.

  We turn the corner and Harley stops dead in her tracks, pulling at my arm. “Holy Mother of God, save my soul.” She brings her right hand to her chest as if she’s having a heart attack and blinks so fast, you’d think she’s about to take flight. “Ci, is this where you actually live or are you shitting me?”

  “Nah, not really. I rented the place for the next few days from Airbnb.com,” I mock. “Of course this is my home. What did you think?”

  “Jesus Christ. When you said Nikolaj had a pretty amazing place in Paris, you never mentioned it was a palace in the sky.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but my sister precedes me. “Even though this isn’t my first time here, I have to agree with Harley. Ci, you have a spectacular apartment. It’s absolutely to die for. This is the type of place we always wanted to live in when we’d spend Sundays combing the streets, but I don’t think either of us ever thought it’d be possible.”

  “Between us, Nik keeps saying it’s ours, but this whole experience is still surreal to me.”

  “I feel the same way about the über-luxurious two-story penthouse I share with Bryce in New York. I know that technically it’s ours, but every time I walk in, I’m still in awe that I get to live there.” Sofia smiles, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “But let’s be honest, that’s small potatoes compared to your living arrangements. My little sister scored big time because she gets to live in one of the most prominent neighborhoods in one of the most coveted cities in the world.”

  “Look who’s talking.” Harley cranks her neck before putting her right fist on her hip. “Sofia, your husband is equally filthy rich. Need I remind you we crossed the Atlantic on board your private jet? Let’s be serious here. If you wanted one, you’d only need to ask your billionaire husband and you’d end up with a ritzy Paris apartment like this one in a heartbeat.”

  I could jump into the conversation, but it’s far more entertaining to stand back and watch the two of them duke it out.

  “Good point,” Sofia says, “but contrary to my little sister, I wouldn’t have a swanky Parisian contract with one of the preeminent real-estate developers in the world to go with the chichi apartment.”

  “Yeah, what a shame,” Harley chimes in. “I pity you because you’d be stuck in this place all the time and you wouldn’t have the luxury of going back and forth between Paris, New York, Berlin and Hamburg.”

  “Darling, you forget the place in Copenhagen and Toronto,” my sister adds dramatically. “Oh, no, scratch Toronto. That was merely a luxury rental. It doesn’t count.”

  “I hope you aren’t going to make fun of me like this the entire weekend or else I’ll start feeling at a disadvantage because it’s two against one,” I say.

  “You know we only tease those who matter.”

  “What she said.” My sister takes the easy way out.

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.” They nod together.

  “You could’ve fooled me, because it sounded to me like the two of you were mocking me, which makes me wonder why I foolishly opened my home to you for the next few days. I should kick you out right now with your suitcases in tow and let you go sleep on the banks of the Seine River.”

  “Ciara, you know it’s coming from a place of love.” Harley’s green eyes sparkle when I muffle a laugh. My sister’s gaze is also veiled with the same mischievous glee, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I miss those two so much.

  “Whatever.”

  “Well, if you’re going to be inhospitable, I’ll retreat to my husband’s private jet.” My big sister crosses her arms and does her best to look offended.

  “I’m not roughing it in a city I’ve never been in, especially considering that I only know one French word. I don’t think I can get very far with just bonjour. I’m bunking with her on her plane.”

  We all laugh.

  “Come on, girls, I have a few nice chilled bottles of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for us. It’s been too long and we so need to catch up.”

  “I’m so up for some French wine. I didn’t want to drink on board your sister’s jet because booze goes straight to my head when I fly and I wanted to land on Parisian soil sober and in full possession of my faculties.”

  “Wine sounds amazing. I followed my guest’s cue”—my sister tilts her head in the direction of my best friend—“and I kept it to Perrier on the flight over, but I’m ready to kick off these high heels and enjoy our weekend together.”

  “Good. Let me give you the tour and then we’re all headed for the deck.”

  “Damn, I so need to drink the Herrera sisters’ Kool-Aid and find myself a billionaire who looks like Shemar Moore, but younger, because you two are living better than a couple of heiresses to Sam Walton’s fortune.”

  Harley’s reaction is priceless and knowing my best friend, she’ll have a heart attack when I suggest starting the tour by checking out my office.

&nb
sp; “Sofia, what do you say? Should I show Harley the room Nikolaj had decorated for me so I can use it as my little oasis?” I lift my eyebrow as a sly smile flirts on my lips.

  My sister picks up on my playfulness. “Oh, sis, do you mean your office with the insane view?”

  “Tsk.” Harley clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth while rolling her eyes at us. “Okay, now you’re just showing off, Ci. I get it, your fiancé is richer than God. You and your conspiring sister here don’t have to talk it up. You’re on the top floor of a tall building, it’s a no-brainer that you’d have a fantastic view. No need to rub it in.” Harley folds her arms over her chest, but her smiling eyes indicate she’s having as much fun as we are.

  I wave my finger at Harley, inviting her to follow me as I make my way to one of my favorite rooms in this apartment. Sofia bounces right behind us with a giddy smile on her face. “You’re right. A great view is a given at this altitude, but did I mention I face the Eiffel Tower when I sit behind my desk?”

  “Fuck off. You’ve never mentioned that before.”

  I’ve been very evasive when it comes to describing my new Paris abode. This kind of opulence is best experienced firsthand.

  “I swear that tower is so darn close, I can practically reach out and touch it,” I say, opening the door to my office.

  Both my sister and I lock eyes, amused, before turning our attention to the short blonde gasping for air. Harley steps inside, widens her eyes and opens and closes her mouth, shocked. She fans herself a few times before speaking again. “Holy shit, girl, you’ve arrived.”

  Sofia and I roar in laughter.

  * * *

  All three of us are leaning back in our chairs in a state of pure epicurean bliss, rubbing our tummies.

  “Ci, how in the world did you have time to whip up this five-star meal after a full day at the office?” Harley says.

  “Without our chef, Pierre-Henry La Fontaine, the three of us would’ve ended up with a roasted chicken I would have bought at a grocery store before coming home. I got here thirty minutes before you knocked on my door.”