Come Back to Me_A Brother's Best Friend Romance

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Come Back to Me_A Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 126

by Vivien Vale


  He certainly doesn’t need any more reasons to call me princess.

  I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck, for the moment just content to be held by him.

  The clerk at the counter probably thinks we’re newlyweds.

  Is that really so far from the truth, though?

  I mean, unofficially, I am 0his bride. Just of the mail order variety, is all.

  I decide to keep those thoughts to myself.

  “Checking in?” the clerk asks, customer service smile firmly in place.

  “Yes. Michael Kirkwood.”

  “Okay,” he replies, typing incredibly fast into his computer, “and this is Mrs. Kirkwood?”

  “Yes.” Michael says, without missing a beat.

  I smile broadly against his neck.

  I never thought of myself as the type to take a man’s last name. I mean, my name’s pretty fucking great, why would I ever change it?

  Now, though, I’m really liking the sound of it.

  Mrs. Kirkwood.

  I could get used to that.

  I try it out in my head the entire elevator ride,

  Dr. and Mrs. Kirkwood. Or, if my plan from earlier works out, Dr. and Dr. Kirkwood.

  That last one makes me laugh.

  Michael carries me all the way to the room, even opening the door one-handed. My feet don’t touch the floor until we’re safely in front of the bed.

  Even then, I hesitate to let go, somehow afraid that if I do, I’ll realize that this was all my imagination. That I’m really still in that car. Still with him.

  Michael gently unhooks my arms from his neck, guiding me into a sitting position on the bed.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He kneels in front of me and brushes his hand softly across my temple, over the cut that I got in the crash.

  “You’re so beautiful.” he whispers, leaning forward to claim my mouth with his own.

  His kiss is softer than I’ve ever felt from him, and yet somehow still more.

  It’s a kiss full of relief and promise.

  And love.

  I kiss him back, my own promise.

  He half-stands, leaning into me so that I lie on my back, him above me.

  His kiss travels from my lips, making its way down my neck, past the torn silk of my dress.

  Another one-of-a-kind garment ruined. At this rate, I’ll never be allowed to wear luxury designer again.

  But considering the state of undress I’m planning on being in for as long as Michael will have me…maybe I won’t even mind.

  I feel his hand on my breast, his thumb rubbing against my nipple.

  His other hand finds the hem of my dress, slowly sliding it up and over my thighs.

  I lift my hips from the bed, needing to feel his stiffness.

  He’s rock hard against me.

  “Michael.” I moan, grinding myself into him. “Give it to me.”

  “Not yet.” he answers, torturing me.

  He slides down onto the floor, head now between my knees, and grabs my thong on either side. I hear the flimsy fabric tear in his grip, feel the cool air that washes over me in its absence.

  He spreads my legs gently, like he’s afraid of hurting me.

  I guess I don’t blame him. Looking down, I can see more than a few bruises forming…

  Still, though, I wouldn’t be opposed to him giving me a few more.

  I’m about to tell him so, when I feel his mouth against me, banishing the words from my lips.

  Fuck.

  He drives his tongue into me like a man who’s lost all control. His fingers dig into my thighs, holding me fiercely, possessively.

  I hear him moan, and I let out a cry of my own, hips again rising off the bed toward him.

  I reach down with both hands, gripping his hair desperately between my fingers.

  His tongue slides over my clit, and I ache with pleasure.

  It flicks roughly across me, and I moan louder.

  His fingers slip into me, and I feel claimed.

  His.

  I’m his.

  And he is mine.

  My every nerve screams out at me. A symphony of sensations. Even the aches in my battered body seem like bliss.

  His fingers drive deeper into me, and I push against them, fucking them the way I want to fuck him.

  My hands are pulling insanely at his hair, my hips moving faster by the second.

  His tongue moves along with me, matching my every need.

  I feel my orgasm building, waves of pure electricity that seem to form in my stomach before exploding.

  I scream, tightening around his fingers.

  When I come, fucking angels sing.

  Molten lava erupts.

  The heavens weep.

  I am rocketed off into an ecstasy purer than I imagined possible.

  I scream his name the entire time.

  After, I find myself once again in his arms, now my absolute most favorite place to be.

  I’m so content here, I actually feel high. My breath comes in as gasps and leaves as laughter.

  I have never felt so completely satisfied in my life. I doubt that anyone has.

  I find his mouth, kissing him hard, reminding him that he is mine. That I am his.

  Mrs. Kirkwood, I think.

  Yeah. I like the sound of that.

  Michael

  A cool breeze across my naked chest stirs me, and the first thing I feel is the aching all over. I groan as I roll over, dozens of bruises, wrecked muscles, and joints screaming at me.

  Sometimes it sucks to be a doctor. You know exactly everything that’s wrong with you, and exactly how long it’ll take to heal.

  I lie on my right side, stretching out in the massive bed. I think we might be in the honeymoon suite—I honestly don’t remember.

  I know there were cops, questions, and hospitals, but when and where and in what order, it’s all a blur.

  I just wanted to get my woman alone. I remember hurling a gold card at some young dick behind a counter…taking off my filthy clothes and falling into bed between Stella’s thighs.

  There’s a ripped piece of fabric laying on the floor that vaguely resembles the remains of a thong.

  Coupled with the taste of Stella’s pussy still lingering on my tongue…I must have enjoyed myself there, too.

  I lie still, watching her. Her eyelids flutter, just a touch, and her gorgeous lips curve in a dream-smile. Her fingers shift, just a little, and I smile, wondering what she’s dreaming about.

  She gasps softly, a whisper escaping her mouth. “Michael.”

  I sit up, instantly alert. I hold her shoulder gently, stroking her smooth skin.

  “I’m here, baby,” I whisper, “I’m right here, and I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

  She opens her eyes, slowly, stretching, reaching up towards me. “Fucking kiss me and prove it then.”

  I lean down and kiss her softly, gently. My cock stands to attention immediately, but I tell him to sit the fuck down.

  I’m a new man now. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what she wants.

  As our lips explore each other, she slips her tongue into my mouth and leans back, licking my own tongue. Her hips move, and her thighs open, and I can’t help it—I let out a little sound of distress. She’s so fucking hot.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” She looks at me dreamily, stroking my bare chest. “Shouldn’t you be ravishing me right now?” Her grin and the twinkle in her eye is enough to make a priest weep.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve been through so much. Let me just hold you.”

  Stella laughs, a carefree sound. “Sorry, honey, but that’s just not going to work for me,” she reaches up, kissing me softly but deeply, teasing with her tongue. “I need you to fuck me.”

  I sweep the sheet aside, moving over her to run my hands from her shoulders to stroke her arms.

  “I want to do something I’ve never done be
fore,” I whisper, drinking in her perfect skin, her round breasts.

  Her nipples are so hard, so pink, I can’t help it—I have to reach down and take one in my mouth, softly rolling it between my lips.

  She gasps and grabs the back of my head, so I give her some more, flicking my tongue against the edges of her nipple as it gets tighter.

  “What…d-do you want to do?” she gasps. I can tell she’s curious. I come back to her face, stroking her cheek with my left hand.

  “I want to make love,” I whisper, my right hand lightly stroking the other nipple now, savoring the smoothness of her skin and the roughness of her nipple.

  She blinks, trying to stay with it, but the pleasure is too much. She rolls her head back and rocks her hips, and I can’t wait anymore.

  I slide both hands slowly down her hips as I move down, crouching and grabbing her ass cheeks as I bring her towards me.

  I mouth her clit, gently pulling away then coming in with my tongue, teasing her with a deep lick then going back to squeezing it gently with my lips. She moans and writhes, and I trail my tongue down to those deeper parts, right in the cunt.

  She’s so wet, and oh, fuck. She’s just getting wetter.

  My tongue tries to chase it back to its source as her hips grind against me. She grabs a fistful of my hair and holds me down, and I don’t think anything in the world could make me happier.

  I feel it as she begins to spasm. I’m working my lips and tongue deep into her, eating the orgasms out of her as she crests from one orgasm to the next. As she drips, I mouth her gorgeous clit one more time. Man, how I love seeing it swollen and pink and desperate for more action.

  She’s breathing so hard, her gorgeous tits are heaving up and down. She’s got that blank look in her eyes, the one anyone gets when the desire is so hard, all conscious thought has fled.

  I sit up, coming up between her legs. Gently, I place my hands on her hips, teasing her hole with my cock. I slide it up and down, from clit to pussy, my cock getting more engorged by the second until it’s almost like pain.

  “Put it in! For fuck’s sake, Michael, put it in and fuck me!”

  The smile that bursts on to my face is pure joy.

  I’ve never been so happy.

  Slowly, I draw my cock down into that deep, wet place. Inch by inch, I push it into her. She’s tight and wet, every inch still a fight as my giant cock slides into her tight wet pussy. She starts writhing and grabbing my arms, but I remain in control, thrusting slowly and gently, making sure she is not in pain.

  Like I said, it’s hard being a doctor sometimes. I know she’s injured, and she might not feel it now with the endorphins flooding her brain, but after, she will feel bruised.

  I can’t have that. I have to do my angel deep and slow.

  If she wants to be fucked, it’s my job to fuck her right.

  For the rest of her life.

  She’s rocking against my cock now, trying to force a faster rhythm. She grinds her hips against me, and I can feel those orgasms flowing again, a chain of them, the sharp spasms and clenches pumping my cock.

  I smile and reach down with one hand to thumb her clit, and that does it—she screams and rocks as vaginal and clitoral orgasms hit at the same time. My cock is literally drenched by the river of delicious woman cum trying to squeeze around it.

  I start to thrust a little faster, and that’s it—I blow hard, the tightness and throbbing of my cock triggering yet another orgasm for Stella.

  I stay still for just a moment as she begins to relax, knowing that if I pull out too fast, it will hurt.

  Instead, I gently slide away and lie down beside her. I wrap one arm around her and pull her against my chest, breathing into her hair.

  “I love you, Stella,” I whisper, overcome.

  “I love you, too, Michael,” she whispers, but she sounds sad.

  “I gotta tell you something, baby,” I say now. She tries to speak, but I talk over her. “No, no, you gotta let me say this. Stella. I love you. I want you to marry me. I don’t want you to sit in my apartment and wait for me; I want to share my whole world with you. I want you with me at all times…what do you think? You up for it?”

  She sits up, and it looks like she’s crying.

  Shit! What did I do?

  I sit up, too, trying to turn her towards me. She pushes me off, crying, but doesn’t pull away.

  “Please, tell me what’s wrong.” I’ve never been in so much pain all my life.

  She turns to me. “Michael. I think I might be pregnant.”

  For a moment, I can’t speak. I look at this beautiful woman. The smell of her is all over me. She is delicate and strong and smart and a total badass.

  And she’s going to be the mother of my child.

  “Stella…babe. Marry me, then. Make an honest man out of me. I’ll take care of you…Christ, you’re gonna look so fucking good carrying my child.”

  She wipes away her tears. “You’re not mad? I thought a baby would get in the way of your career.”

  I grasp her shoulders lightly, looking deep into her eyes. “Babe, a minute ago I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than just you. Now you say you’re having my baby…” I shake my head, emotion catching in my throat. “Marry me, you sassy bitch. Be my wife, and let’s raise a whole troop of super smart, genius, awesome gorgeous kids.”

  Laughing, Stella throws her arms around my neck.

  “Yes, Michael! Of course, yes!”

  I feel like it’s the first time she hasn’t fucking fought me on something since she tumbled out of that box and grabbed me by the nuts.

  Somehow, I doubt I’ll have to get used to it.

  Stella

  The sunset here still takes my breath away.

  A million shades of pink and gold light up the sky, shining brilliantly over the dusky brown savanna.

  It’s funny to think that, before coming here, I only ever felt this way about clothes.

  Well, okay. And Michael, of course.

  A soft breeze tugs at the hem of my dress.

  It’s a simple garment, really. Ankle-length ivory that flows in the wind. No lace, no diamonds or gems. It’s certainly not the kind of thing I ever imagined getting married in.

  Still, it’s perfect.

  Just like him.

  He stands across from me, looking like his usual gorgeous self. His slacks are some of the only nice clothes he brought, along with his white button-down.

  He’s never looked better to me than he does right now.

  My husband.

  I guess I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

  My soon-to-be-husband. Very soon.

  He smiles at me, hair stirring slightly in the breeze.

  He does that nearly all the time now. The smiling. And I’m always right there, smiling back at him.

  I was nervous when he suggested we come here. I’ve been to a lot of places, and Africa never seemed like where I’d end up.

  When he asked me, I almost refused.

  Girls like me don’t go to Africa. We don’t, y’know. Belong here.

  Certainly not out on the savanna doing humanitarian work.

  There was something in his eyes, though. Call it hope. When the man you love looks at you like that, there’s really no option of refusing.

  It meant so much to him.

  I figured I might as well tag along. I could tolerate a little wilderness for him. He did save my life, after all.

  I never expected what I would find once we got here.

  The happiness, the simplicity, the joy of actually doing something good.

  I’m a changed woman, alright? And I owe it all to him.

  The crazy thing is, most days, I don’t even miss our old life.

  I hardly ever even think about clothes, and I’ve given up on makeup entirely.

  Things like that don’t matter out here. People do. It’s an amazing way to live.

  On the rare days when I start to feel homesick, Mich
ael is there to comfort me. He reminds me that what we’re doing here really counts. That we’re saving lives.

  I took to assisting him right away. It’s one thing to know that the man you love is a hero, another entirely to see it in person.

  He’s amazing. The way he cares for people, the way he takes care of people. I found myself jumping in immediately.

  Sometimes I even act as his nurse. It’s a far cry from surgeon, but who knows, maybe I’ll get there one day.

  He moves a step closer to me, the setting sun glowing gold where it touches his skin.

  I have to fight the urge to kiss him. We’re not at that part yet.

  His blue eyes travel down me, stopping like they so often do on my stomach.

  I’ve grown substantially since coming here, and I don’t even mind.

  I feel the baby kick as he reaches out, placing a hand on my swollen belly.

  Our baby.

  I really am the luckiest woman alive.

  “I do,” he says, eyes rising to meet mine.

  I echo his words—the easiest decision I’ve ever made.

  Just like that, he really is my husband.

  Not soon-to-be, not a fantasy, and for damn sure not my owner.

  My husband.

  He pulls me toward him, dipping me slightly at the waist.

  It’s one of my all-time favorite kisses, tied for first with every other kiss we’ve shared.

  Our few guests, mostly locals we’ve befriended, cheer in delight.

  They’ve been calling us married since we arrived. It’s about time we made it official.

  The smile on his face when he pulls back from me brings tears to my eyes.

  I can’t believe I’m the one who put it there.

  I smile back, fighting away the tears.

  I’ve never been happier in my life.

  The reception is simple, like everything in our lives now. It’s not anything like I would have planned before, but there’s music and food, good people, and strong drinks. Or so I’m told.

  I won’t lie—wine is one thing I do miss.

  After the party dies down, we sit together by the fire.

  Above us, billions of stars shine in the night sky.

  When we first arrived, I think it was the stars that surprised me the most.

 

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