Exclusive: Princess Presley Duet Book Two (Full Circle Series 3)

by S. E. Hall

  “So. Fucking. Good,” I groan for both of us. “God damn, Sugar, you have no idea how good you feel.” She starts pushing into me, rolling her hips and doing some hard pop/snap thing at the end of each wave that’s got me seeing sideways… and talkin’ out my head. “Fuck yes, baby, just like that. Good girl,” my hiss slides through gritted teeth, “fuck me back, Sugar.” I start one hand for her clit, needing her to get there, fast, before I explode, but she stops me.

  “Don’t you dare touch my clit.” The demand’s strangled, caught between husky pleasure, and what sounds a lot like agony. “You’re almost there, so deep, right on it. Just, just a lil’ slower, babe. Hard, but slower. Oh, God yes, it’s coming, Sutton. Fuckkk, do it baby, hit it just right!”

  “Hands flat, now. Trust me,” I heave, picking her up just a bit, her hips now tilted so I’m driving down and against her G-spot… and mentally listing the States in alphabetical order, I think, hanging on by less than a fucking thread… because I forgot a condom, and she’ll be livid if I come in her. Dirty talk, sends her flying every time. “Right there? Yeah, that’s the spot, isn’t it? You love me buried deep, dontcha? Give it to me, Presley, come on my cock. Come all the fuck over me.”

  “Sutton,” she wails, her entire body trembling as she bucks her hips, ass cheeks rippling, fingers clawing at the floor. “Holyyyy. Oh. My. God. Yes, yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

  Sweet Mother of… okay, I get it now; huge difference in a woman’s orgasms. Can’t imagine how it feels for her, but I know how it feels for me — unfuckingbelievable. She’s never clenched, pulsed, throbbed, all of them, all at once, or whatever the fuck’s happening, me anywhere near this goddamn good. My maniacal grunts boom around us as I absolutely drill her, until I can’t take it another second and force myself to pull out, pumping a tight fist up and down my cock as fast as I can. The first hot, thick rope of come splashes… Dear God, it splashes her beautiful, sweaty, hot pink face… because my fucking goddess has already whirled around and is closing in to suck and swallow down my come for me.

  She peers up at me and licks her lips. “I don’t know…”

  I lean in and down, nose to nose, lips to lips, warning gravelly, “Well, I do. Any more shenanigans will not get you fucked again, Hot Shot, so take your ass home. I mean it. I’ve told ya before, I really try not to go all alpha and boss ya around, but like hell am I gonna have you in club parking lots alone at night.”

  Her eyes roll as she snickers. “Okay, good point. But, just so you’re aware… carrying me off the dance floor to fuck your territorial jealousy out? Yeah, alpha as it gets.”

  “Said I try.” I hitch a shoulder and wink. “Didn’t say I always succeed.” The reminder of just how out of control I’d been, however, turns my lack of remorse on a dime; so my next words hold conviction, and aren’t delivered with a wink. “I’m sorry, about forgetting a c-”

  “I have an IUD, we’re good.”

  “Oh, okay,” I exhale my relief; I know her stance on kids, thought for sure she’d be upset… which… hold up a damn minute. “I have no idea what an IUD is, but, thinking I’m a huge fan, and wondering why the hell I’ve been gloving up?”

  She laughs, patting my cheek. “We’ll talk about it, things, later. Now, move your big ass outta my way so I can go home. Unless you’ve changed your mind on an encore?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Right when I get home,” I promise on a kiss, then shut her door. Once she’s pulled onto the highway, I turn to head back inside, adjusting my hard on to make the task easier; hard because, I’m as much a novice to relationships as Presley, but I’m pretty sure our “birth control discussion,” albeit a short one, is a really good sign.

  We just went from “progress” to reaching the fucking peak and planting a God damn victory flag.

  I need to bone up on my Astrology; I have absolutely no idea if I’m looking at a constellation, and if so, which one; and my real dilemma — which freakin’ one of the dazzling gems above me is the wishing star?

  Wait… back up. For fuck’s sake, Presley. Your real dilemma, dilemmas, are far bigger, and piling up quick, girl. Not only are you stargazing, thinking silly ass shit such as “dazzling gems,” seriously?... but you’re doing so with damp panties, warm traces of his come still reminding you of being at Sutton’s total mercy. In your father’s club. Nice.

  Also… exactly how long must one wait, must one pee, for that to stop? I need to ask Sky. No, no handing her that info on a platter; I’ll Google it.

  “Are you purposely testing me?” I jolt as though electrocuted, almost falling, and shriek too loud for a neighbor not to hear. I’d been so wrapped up in my own crazy talk with myself I hadn’t heard Sutton’s approach, totally unprepared for his scary hiss.

  “Are you purposely trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” I whisper-seethe back.

  “If that’s what it takes. Jesus, Presley, what the hell are you doing out here? Half-naked. In the middle of the night. Again.” Way past growly, he stalks toward me, shaking his head. “All of a sudden, you’re a fearless, exhibitionist, vampire? Can’t keep your ass covered, or inside, at night? Not likin’ it, babe. At. All.”

  “For God’s sake, I was taking the dog out to potty.” I give him the wide-eyed, arched brows, universal look for “duh.”

  “Ohhh,” he drawls sarcastically, “that makes sense; my bad. Except…” he jerks his head every which way, then back to eye me, “where’s the damn dog?”

  “What?” Shit… I, too, scan the area, coming up empty, calling Castello’s name and moving to go find him.

  “Yeah, good job on that, Mistress of the Night,” Sutton grunts, stopping me short of my search with a quick snare around my waist. “He’s done.” He points toward my apartment, where Castello sits right inside the door… waiting on me.

  “Rise and shine, Hot Shot; big day ahead of us.” Sutton’s too chipper wake-up pierces my sleepy ears, his hand swatting my just as sleep ass.

  “Wrong day,” I groan, yanking the cover back over me as I roll away from the sound of his voice. “I have no big plans.”

  “Um, no, it’s the right day, and a surprise,” he laughs.

  “Wrong girl, then.”

  “Really? That’s the best ya got; wrong girl? Get your ass up, right girl, right day; you’ll get all the sleep you need when you’re dead.”

  I groan again, louder this time, completely disappearing under the comforter. “You know I hate mornings, and surprises, so you probably should’ve guessed I’d absolutely loathe surprises in the mornings. Whatever it is, it can wait a few hours. And how are you not tired? You’re the one who worked all night.”

  “What was that last part? Didn’t quite catch it,” he asks, chuckling.

  Must’ve moaned it out loud — how damn good it smells under here — the sheets, his pillow… a cocoon of Sutton and sex. “I said, you should come back to bed,” I try to persuade him with a purr.

  “Very tempting, Sugar, but, no can do. Company’ll be at my place in just a couple of hours, and we got a ton of shit to do before then. So, last time I ask; get your pretty ass up and moving.”

  “Company? What company?” I throw the covers back and sit up, pushing bed-head tangles out of my face. “At your place? Sutton,” I groan, dreading the answer, “what the hell did you do?”

  “There she is. Good morning, grumpy girl.” He winks, bending to brush his lips across mine, then pulling back… before I can pull him in for more. “We are hosting a pool party at my place today, so jump in the shower, ad make sure to do whatever,” he motions to his crotch, “you gotta do down there to wear a bikini while I run to the store to buy food, then I’ll come back and pick you and Castello up. Sound good?”

  I’ve been shaking my head since about word three, answering that very question long before he asked. But, since he apparently missed it, I tell him in no uncertain terms. “No, doesn’t sound good at all. Well, lemme rephrase that; doesn’t sound familiar, not ev
en a little bit. When did we decide to host a pool party? Who did we invite, and why aren’t we just using Aunt Laney and Uncle Dane’s pool for this fiesta?”

  “This morning, the Squad and a few guys from work, and because,” he hums the words around his mouth, rubbing at the back of his neck as he chooses which of them, and in what order, to let out.

  “I’m slowly breakin’ ya in… to breakin’ ya out, of the mold.”

  “And what mold is that?”

  “Don’t get mad,” he laughs, rubbing the death-glare wrinkle between my eyes. “Presley, your family is amazing, and I envy you for having that, them, but, I’m not like JT; a man of them, bringing into that mix. I’m my own man, taking one of theirs away, into my mix. Does that make sense?”

  “No. Not at all. A man of them? What the hell does that even mean? And all the mixing? Are you suddenly a bunch of bakers? I’m pretty quick on the uptake, Sutton, so you must really be fuckin’ up what you’re trying to say, ‘cause I got nothin’.”

  He widens his stance, arms crossed at his barrel chest, and smirks down at me. “There’s a running theme in your family — man finds his woman, gets her the car he thinks is fit, moves her into apartment, house, whatever he sees fit, and soon she’s in the mix — they’re all connected; where they work, live, eat, everything. Know what I’m talking about now?”

  “Yes,” I drawl, waiting to see where he’s going with this before pointing out a few key flaws.

  “I won’t be doing that. Nothing wrong with your car, or apartment, and if and when there is, we’ll be starting our own thing; you and I will make our own foundation, and ours will branch out from us. Starting today. We throw a pool party, we throw it at our pool, serve our food. Not that I don’t enjoy your whole family, you know I do, but… I’ll be the main man, the Dane if you will, of what we build.”

  “Um, Sutton?”

  “Yeah?”

  “As hot as your whole growly, Clan of the Cavebear speech was, I think it’s only fair to point out…” I swallow down my giggle, “that you work at my father’s club and live in an apartment owned by my Uncle Dane. Ergo, the pool we’ll be hosting at… also Dane’s. I fear, you may already be mixed in with us.”

  “Ah, but,” he holds up a proud finger, “I worked there before us, and I pay rent, pay to use that pool. Nothing is handed to me, nor will it ever be. In fact, can’t have you thinkin’ otherwise, so I’ll be fixing those things as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, stop,” I snicker, dismissing his crazy talk with a flit of my hand. “I was just kidding with you. You’re not moving, or quitting your job. Don’t be ridiculous. Or homeless and unemployed.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the only job or apartment in town,” he scoffs, the mood no longer playful. “I need your respect, Presley, and I see now… I don’t have it.”

  I quickly rise to my knees, yanking the waistband of his shorts to bring him closer. “Sutton, stop this right now; you’re getting carried away. I do respect you, very much, for way more important reasons than where you live or work. I work for my dad, and live in an apartment he owns. Do you not respect me?”

  “Not the same thing,” he grunts.

  “Why; because I’m a woman?” The mood so no longer playful.

  “Fuck no, don’t even start with that shit; furthest thought from my mind.”

  “Then why isn’t it the same?”

  “Because, he is your family, so that’s okay, normal; he’s not mine. I have my own family, a family of just as strong, smart, well off, capable men, and women, that I come from, was taught by, and will carry on our tree. Branches. Leaves. A whole fuckin’ forest!”

  A little over the top? Probably. Hot as hell? Definitely. And… I get it. Maybe because I know Sutton, maybe because I know how overwhelming, and often suffocating, my family can be, but I get it. So, I pepper his chest with little kisses, then peer up at him and whisper, “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  I nod. “Yep. Okay.”

  “P, get your fuckin’ wildebeest off me! He had his rabies shot?” JT whines, fighting off my killer puppy… who’s not happy about him rough-housing with Sutton.

  I turn my head to Bellamy, laying out with me on the lounger to my left. “How turned on are you by your man right now? The whole nasally whine, scared of a ten-pound puppy thing’s gotta be pretty hot, so if you want to jump him, we’ve got private use of the air-conditioned pool house too.”

  “Still my brother, and still gross, every time you talk about it,” Skylar grumbles from the other side of me. “Besides, I’d much rather hear about you and Sutton. Hosting parties together seems like a big step; how about you catch us up on all the in-between on how we ended up here?”

  “Ohh, I like that plan,” Bellamy giggles, and Brynn, proving once again she inherited her father’s freakishly good hearing, rushes over to join us.

  “Not much to tell really; we just, we’re…”

  “We’re what?” Sutton, apparently also equipped with sonar hearing, hollers from the pool.

  I sit up and slide my sunglasses on top of my head, wanting an unencumbered view, read, on him and his question. For a second, I forgot that’s my goal though, unable to resist the chance to let my eyes dance over him. Damn, he’s good looking. His body’s just so, so big. Beastly. But not super hairy, ‘cause, ew. As always, he towers a good head-above the other men around him, with shoulders wide enough to carry anything, broad, golden chest, and cut abs, with perfect indentation… a fine, black treasure trail disappearing into his swim trunks.

  “Presley, we’re what?” he asks again, pulling my attention, and eyes, to his, where a challenging smirk awaits me.

  He waits… for more than my short answer. He may wear a smirk, for our audience, but his eyes, those big, beautiful, all-seeing green eyes, tell me exactly what he’s really waiting for, and why he really arranged this get together with our friends and my family. He wants a statement, a proclamation, from me. Out loud. For all of them to hear.

  I keep his stare as I say, loud and clear, no mumble, no throat-clearing, “Sutton and I are together; officially. A serious, monogamous, do-things-beside-have-sex couple. And yes, people, we have a couple dog. Anyone wanna talk some shit about any of that? Now’s the time.”

  No one says a damn word, but Sutton moves his mouth, sending me a wink, gorgeous grin, and an ‘I love you.’

  And he does. God help me, I know he does.

  Ever since the day of the pool party, the day she truly met me halfway — declaring “us,” and confirming we were on the same page, together — things have been great. Busy, but great.

  I’ve been working every shift I can get, investing the extra money and watching my risks/returns like a hawk, and slowly but surely laying the groundwork on some major plans. I want to build a life with Presley. A life that starts at, and belongs to, only us. I want to move in together… in an apartment, condo, or maybe even a house… that isn’t in any way connected to her family. And I want to pay for that place with money in no way connected to her family. Not that I don’t like and respect her family, and appreciate my job, but, like I told Presley before, I want to build our foundation from the ground up — and I’ve been busting my ass to do just that.

  But today, I’m taking a break, nothing on my schedule or mind besides spending time with my girl.

  “Alright babe, your choice; there’s a Walking Dead tour that sounds cool, hiking, or we can Pluck the Fuzz. What’s it gonna be? Castello can go with us on either of the last two.”

  She climbs in my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Why do we have to go do something? Let’s just hang here, chill, and I bet we can find something to do, more than once.”

  I run my hands along her arms and lay my forehead on hers, getting all cozy-like, only to say, “Not gonna work, Hot Shot. We already did that today, and I’m more than willing to give it to ya again tonight, but while the sun’s out, we’re going to try doing other things. So, which one do you pick?”
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  She pouts, bottom lip pooching out just a tad, crinkles forming between her eyes. “You exhaust me sometimes. I’m not really an adventure type gal; especially not an adventure-every-damn-chance-we-get type gal. And where do you even find this endless list of activities of yours?”

  “The Internet,” I deadpan. “Super tricky. Now, pick one, or I’ll pick for us.”

  “Give me the choices again,” she drones. “I was countin’ on changing your mind, so I wasn’t listening.”

  “At least you’re honest,” I chuckle, swatting her butt. “Okay, first, there’s a Walking Dead tour where…”

  “Pass. Hard pass,” she interrupts, shaking her head. “Never got into that show.”

  “Alright, next was hiking. There’s some pretty cool looking trails, caves, spots to stop for a picnic, and it’s not too far away.”

  “Hmmm, not tossing that one out, yet. What’s the last option?”

  “Pluck the Fuzz. It’s-”

  “Pluck. The. Fuzz? Is that…” She actually looks down at her crotch and I fucking howl in laughter. “What? That’s what I think of; am I wrong?”

  Last tear of amusement wiped away and breath regathered, I arch a brow and answer her. “Um, yeah… you’re wrong. Presley, did you seriously think I was proposing we spend the day at some naturalistic, hippie camp where one plucks their,” I snort, “their fuzz out, with what, tweezers? Really? That’s where your mind went first?”

  “Well, yeah; first, only… what the hell else could it mean?”

  Classic. Definitely one for the books. The take I’ll tell any time, every time, someone asks about the story of me and Presley.

  “Babe, try to stay with me on this.” I’m still simpering. We live in Georgia, right? The… blank state?”

  “Coolest? Best?”

  “Those too, but what’s the first thing that pops in people’s heads? Like, we grow them here?”

  “Ohhh, athletes! SEC football! Bulldogs! It’s Bulldogs!”