I pull off my white undershirt and my socks. “I plan everything. Some things are more enjoyable to plan than others. Like the proposal.”
“Which was perfect. I can’t believe you recorded that so long ago,” she says, gaze trailing over my body. She takes her time, commits body parts to memory. The scent of a fresh floral bouquet fills the room and there’s a faint chirp of a whippoorwill outside the curtained window.
“I wanted to do it the day that, ah, your bird escaped,” I say, walking back because I don’t want to think about that day in this moment. “Tonight, it went better than I planned for. It’s my mom’s ring. I don’t know if I mentioned that in between make-out sessions. They’ve known this entire time that I wanted to ask you to marry me. I wanted to do it before I left, but I was afraid that you’d think it was too rash a decision. Or worse, that I was doing it to keep you tied to me only because I was deploying. Even your parents knew and approved…eventually.”
Clover closes the space between us, her palms grazing my pecs. “Mercer, you know me better than anyone else and you managed to do that in a short amount of time. I trust you. The amount of time we spent loving each other is irrelevant at this point. Now we have the rest of our lives to coat each other with kisses and make every single memory together.”
I rest my hands on the only safe spot, her shoulders. Anywhere else, and the hunger would take over completely. “For the first month after I left, I asked myself why now? Why couldn’t we fall in love back in our teenaged years and have spent all these years together up until now.” I shake my head. “That’s not how it works. Love doesn’t say when. It says how. And the how of it, Ms. Wellsley, is you are the most magnificent person in the entire world.” I eye the large bed over her shoulder. “Would you do me the honor of handing me your virginity.” I wink. “On a silver platter would be nice.”
She swoons, cheeks red, eyes half-mast, and then she fixes me with a smirk. “I thought your cock has already been inside me? No need for a silver platter.”
“Technicality,” I mutter, watching my hand slide down her tan arm. Grabbing her waist, I pull her against me so she can feel me hard and ready. “I’m a jealous man. This is for you, but it’s for me too. I’ll say when. And the when is now. You tell me how.” I grab the hem of her dress and raise it over her head and toss it on the same chair my uniform is on. I kiss a trail up her neck and then whisper, “Tell me. How do you want it?”
Her breaths come quicker as I pull away and admire the body inside her lavender colored bra and panties. Her stomach is toned and tight and she’s smaller than she was when I last saw her naked. The months away have changed her, and a pang of regret splices my chest for what I’ve missed—the fact that I’ve missed anything at all.
Clover brings her lips to mine and clasps her hands around my neck. Gently, she pulls me toward the bed. I fall on top of her, bracing my weight with my arms. “As much of your skin on my skin as possible,” she says, cradling my face, and tickling my chest and abs as her hand finds the edge of my underwear. Sucking in, I hold my breath as her fingers close around my shaft. It feels better than I remember. Our connection vibrates in the inch of space between our bodies. I lick a path over her collarbone, a delicious trail that leaves my mouth filled with her scent.
I unsnap her bra in between her breasts and try to focus on licking her nipples while her hand pumps in my underwear. “Let’s take the rest off,” Clover says, her breathy tone sending a jolt to my cock. Leaning up, I remove my underwear and peel hers off her body. The scant lace is wet and smells like her. An indescribable mix of scents that sets my teeth on edge. Longing hits. The ache comes next when she spreads her legs and opens for me. “My honeypot is wet for you, Mercer Ballentine. What are you going to do about it? Go fishing? Or go fishing?”
Chapter Twenty-One
___________________________________
Clover
MERCER FLASHES A wolfish grin as he lowers his head between my legs. “Oh, okay then. That’s nice. Real nice,” I say, running my hands through his hair, closing my eyes. My whole body is writhing with feelings—an onslaught of eroticism. His tongue flicks my clit and I feel pleasure in my stomach, in my knees, in that place below my belly button. He growls as he slides a finger inside my wet pussy and my back arches. “I want to come with you inside me. Not on a finger. Mercer,” I say. Swallowing and breathing at the same time seem like too much of a challenge in the haze he has me in. From the moment I laid eyes on him in the airport, I dreamed of this. The claiming by Mercer Ballentine. A fantasy by any woman’s standards, and my farm trucking real life.
“Give me the real one. Inside me. I won’t smell like rubber after. It’s going to be the best night of my life.”
He laughs, gliding away from my center, kissing my hips, my stomach, the tips of my breasts. Once on each side. Hitting every erogenous zone on his blazing path to my neck and mouth. “You’re making me jealous of my own cock.” A throaty, turned-on laugh, rumbles his body. “Never thought I’d say that.”
“Then stop talking,” I order, moving my hips up, seeking his wide girth. It is the same yet completely different than the dildo. His dick is warm and softer, my core will wrap around it differently than rubber. I bring his face to mine, his mouth to mine, his gaze, so soulful, searing mine. “Take me. I’m yours.”
He nudges gently, just to see if he’s in the right ballpark. When he meets my wet, hot opening, his eyes fall closed with a soft moan. His neck works as he swallows hard and thrusts again, the tip entering me, his width stretching my pussy open. “Tell me if it hurts.”
It won’t hurt, I’ve practiced with the dildo several times. All I feel right now is stripped down, raw pleasure at being entered by a man—by him.
Tentatively, I reach around his back and find his well-sculpted ass. I pull, encouraging him deeper. He lets out a guttural noise when his cock enters all the way. His whole body stills when he’s buried in me. “It only feels good. Amazing. You’re inside me,” I say, seeking out his kiss. It’s tongues and madness as he thrusts again and again. I can see the agonizing pleasure on his face, and it matches the desperate need for orgasm in mine. Moving my arms back up to his shoulders, the engagement ring catches the dull light from the bedside table and the monumental meaning cascades over me like a sedative. I’m making love to the man who I will spend a lifetime with.
It was never supposed to be like this. Love was never going to creep up on me. It was going to be a thoughtful decision made with the utmost care and deliberation. Then it wouldn’t be with Mercer, and I don’t want that kind of life if it means he’s not in it. My love for him has changed me in all the ways I didn’t know I needed changing. His face is against my neck and I can tell he’s close because his breathing has changed. Taken by the moment, I grind my hips against his pelvis and tell him I’m going to come. One more thrust and the pleasure starts rippling through my body.
“I’m coming with you inside me,” I breathe, clutching him to me, sealing it with wet tongues. The orgasm is still tearing through my body when he pulls out and ejaculates on my stomach, head hanging limply down, like he doesn’t have the energy to keep it upright.
Instead of wiping it off, he collapses on top of me, his face once again tucked sweetly into my neck.
“The dildo has nothing on the real thing. In case you’re wondering.” I pant a few sweaty breaths and he kisses me behind my ear. It’s like that place is connected to my core because it contracts, an empty longing. More. I want more.
“Thank God,” Mercer says, laughing. “I was worried the whole body attached to it would be an encumbrance for you.”
“More of a bonus piece if you want the truth. The muscles, the mouth, it’s all impressive.” I sigh. “I’m gonna want that a few more times tonight.”
“Let’s thank God because I wasn’t sure how I was going to let you know I have a lot of fucking to get out of my system and having you under me, with your tight body, wet cunt, wearing my ring? Wel
l, let’s just say the draw to you is pretty strong, darlin’.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” I say, shifting him down when I feel his shaft rising again, against my stomach. “Lay down,” I say. I want to get on top.
Mercer flips me on top with ease and settles me on top of his erection. The muscles on his neck work as he lifts his head from the pillow. “Let me watch,” he begs.
Positioning him just so, I sink down slowly, inch by inch. He gives me his hands and I interlace my fingers with his. “I never knew it could feel this good,” I breathe, lifting and lowering so the head of his cock rubs against my sensitive walls. “You were made for me.”
“No,” Mercer growls. “You were made for me.”
“We were made for each other,” I amend. “From this angle,” I say, losing my breath to a flash of pleasure. “It’s rubbing...” I trail off again. “That place inside me.” When I open my eyes, Mercer is grinning.
“Let’s give you a G-spot orgasm, shall we? Lean forward,” he commands. “Put your hands on my shoulders.” I do, and another intense wave hits and my core clenches. He reaches down between our connected bodies and moves his cock inside me as I ride him. The increased pressure makes me buck. There’s nothing to compare it to. I feel like I might pee, or orgasm, or leave planet earth for another galaxy far, far away.
“Keep moving,” Mercer sighs. “Just like that.”
I swallow a mouth full of spit and concentrate on that one spot. He pulls his dick against my wall harder and I circle my hips once more, and this time when I come, I see stars. There’s a loud scream and my legs tingle. Like an explosion that starts at that place where he’s giving pressure and drowning the rest of my body. I feel the orgasm everywhere. Breathing seems a trivial task when my body is writhing in such bliss.
I open my eyes when the shock wears off. Mercer is watching me, a mirthful smile on his lips. He flexes his dick. “That was fun, huh?”
“How are you so good at that?”
He chuckles. “There may be several things I can teach you.” I feel him move inside me again. “Watching you come apart like that might have just beat out your face when I proposed.”
“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.” We both laugh, but not for long because he needs to be taken care of. “How do you want it.” I rise off him, leaving a puddle around the base of his cock.
“On all fours,” he says, gaze flicking all over my body. I’m red on the chest, sticky from his cum, and my makeup is probably smeared all over my face. I do as I’m told, because what if he has more tricks up his sleeve? Even though my pussy is sensitive, I want to feel more. Everything. “You have no idea how much tonight means to me,” he says, voice hoarse. I want to turn to see his face because the phrase seems to hold so much more than just plain words, but he pushes into me, filling me up, his hands firm on my hips as he fucks himself using my body. It’s raw and stripped down to base level, and I love it. My ass slaps against his stomach as he pumps into me and he smacks my ass on each side hard enough to leave marks.
He reaches around and starts working my clit with his finger, a harsh jiggling of his skilled finger leaves me panting, almost breathless as I chase the high of another explosion. His pumps get more erratic, but his hand is steady.
“That’s it. You feel it?” he says, low timbre making my insides shake with fear.
“Yes,” I reply, voice tired. He presses into me, both my clit and his shaft all the way to the hilt, and the ache turns into more waves, relief, cascading oxytocin wrapping my body. He pumps once more, his sweat making the sound ricochet throughout the room and pulls out, leaving me empty. I hang my head between my arms in blissful defeat.
He spreads my butt cheeks with one hand, and I feel hot spurts land on my most sensitive areas, the last shot landing on my sore pussy, dripping onto my clit, and then onto the bed beneath us. It’s tinged pink.
Mercer leans over and tongues my core, lapping up what he just gave me, sending new sensations igniting my pink, swollen folds. His tongue is a warm salve and even if I’m embarrassed at being this exposed, I relax into his attentions because I can’t help myself.
His tongue is wide and strong, and I move against him, anticipating his next thrust, his next move. “This is why newlyweds never go out with their friends,” I deadpan, my voice cracking on the last syllable because he flicked my clit. “They’re in bed giving each other orgasms all day long.”
“Something like that,” Mercer says, kissing my ass cheek. “Does this feel good? How sore are you?”
I waggle my butt in the air. “It was sore, but when you use your tongue like that it goes away and all I feel is…good.”
He clears his throat. “The trick to going all night is lots of tongue in between. It helps.” He pulls me up to sit in his lap, my back against his front. “Clover, I love you something mad. Do you know that?” He kisses my shoulder.
My breathing finally eases back into something normal. “I love you. Thank you for tonight. For everything, really. You showed me how to be me without shoving it down my throat.”
He pulls us down and under the covers. I roll to face him and trace the planes of his face with my fingers. “You set me free and captured me at the same time,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “I don’t even know how to explain that.”
Mercer bites the tip of my finger and holds it between his teeth before sucking it. I feel it in my core. I take his free hand and put it between my legs. “And you know exactly how to work my body so I’d appreciate it if you’d just do that as much as possible right now.”
“I didn’t capture you. You merely fell in love with a Southern boy.” Mercer winks before he dips a finger inside me eliciting a quiet moan. His tongue parts my lips and I lose myself again.
Which I’ve come to realize is okay, because Mercer Ballentine will always find me.
Epilogue
___________________________________
Mercer
“COUNT THE STARS,” Clover says, pointing to the sky. We’re at our almost beach in Cape Cod. We watched the light fade into night, but we weren’t ready to go after. We still had more champagne and she said her bucket wasn’t full yet. Her love bucket, that is. I lean over and kiss her cheek. She’s so beautiful, the moon is glowing on her creamy skin.
“That’s an impossibility,” I say. “There are one hundred billion stars in the Milky Way. There aren’t enough hours in a day to count all of the stars.”
She turns to look at me. “How ‘bout I count the ones I see in your eyes?” Her smile is bright and white. Almost as big as it was on our wedding day last year when I finally got the girl forever. There was no almost about it. There was a finality to our vows that brought me relief. This woman was my missing piece and I didn’t realize how unfulfilled I was until I was able to call her my wife. My partner in everything and anything.
“How many in my eyes then?” I counter, humoring her.
Clover furrows her brows in deep thought. “I only see myself,” she admits. “No stars. Zero.”
“Or infinity, you are my only star,” I joke, winking at her.
Clover takes a ragged breath. “Why are you impossibly perfect?”
“’Cause I got a good woman by my side.”
Clover casts her eyes back at the sky. “I never thanked you. You’ve been so supportive while we opened the new salon. I didn’t think it would be this much work.” Goldie and Clover expanded, and they are co-owners of an even more successful salon in a ritzy part of town.
I fold my arms behind my head. “No thanks needed, darlin’. You deal with a heaping of mess with my job.”
There are still a lot of training trips, but since the war ended and the multi-country agreement was signed, I haven’t deployed. It’s the most peaceful my life has ever been. We will spend a month in Greenton later this year because we both miss home, but we have carved out a life for ourselves in Cape Cod. The Harbour Point SEAL Base is where I belong. Clover is merely s
quaring up her dreams to match mine, and I can’t discredit how much she has changed and given to make us successful. Her daddy has more time on his hands and is a much happier person because of it. Her parents came to visit us in my house after we got married and all the scores were settled. We are a family now. In every way. There isn’t bad blood.
They support Clover and help in any way they can. It’s hard to keep up with her as she always has several things going on at the same time, and I’m just lucky that I’m the one thing that is always in the forefront of her mind. The love she has for me is something I didn’t know was real—or even possible. She loves my flaws as fiercely as she loves my good parts. I guess the only reason I am able to understand was because I feel the same way about her.
Clover sits up and grabs the champagne flute. She has a drink and then looks down at me. “Listen, I know I have the salon, and the quilting club, the volunteer hours at the shelter, the remodel of the house, and uh, you know training for the marathon, but I was thinking,” she says, sipping once more. “Maybe we could try for a baby. What do you think?”
I sit up. “Are you serious?”
Her eyes light up. She nods, a line forming between her eyes. “Look at how obsessed with you, I am. I’m ready to bring more obsession into this. Or we can at least have fun trying at the very least?”
Emotion clogs my throat. I clear it. “I think it’s a great idea. There’s nothing I love doing more than trying to make a baby with you.”
“You just have to like, come inside me instead of pulling out. That’s the plan, then.” She says it so matter-of-factly that I have to laugh. “What?” Clover whines.
I lick my lips and drag my hand over my mouth. “How about you let me worry about how babies are made and you just worry about having fun while we do it?” She folds her arms and tilts her head. “You have a lot going on. I’m just taking something off your plate.” I grin and hold out my hand. When she doesn’t take it, I say, “I’d love to come in you, Clover Wellsley. Putting a baby inside you will be my greatest accomplishment and I will take the responsibility very seriously.” I lay a hand over my heart. Her cold front breaks and she giggles, laying her hand on my arm.
Almost Had You Page 23
