Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

I wince at the reminder. “I’m so behind.” After my father’s accident, when I knew I couldn’t head back to Chicago to finish my last year full-time because my parents needed help, I enrolled in correspondence courses. I’ve barely touched the assigned work for this semester, too wrapped up in life with Henry.

“You’ll get there.” He takes my hand in his, his thumb sliding over the pearl. “And now you have a wedding to plan too.”

A thrill radiates through me as I admire the ring again. My wedding to Henry. Because Henry will be my husband soon. It still doesn’t feel real, and I doubt it will until I’m walking down the aisle. “If I can wrestle it away from Mama.” I held my breath when I announced the good news over the phone just before leaving Wolf Cove, not sure what to expect from a woman who has done everything in her power to keep Henry and me apart, including ingesting caffeine pills to fake a heart attack.

The whoop of glee that escaped her had my mouth hanging. According to her, Henry is doing the honorable thing … finally. We’ve only been together a few months.

Henry chuckles. “At least she’s not knitting a Henry doll to burn in effigy.”

“Have you met Bernadette Mitchell? She’d be afraid God himself would strike her with lightning for something so sinful as black magic.”

His laughter grows, his eyes twinkling. “Do you think she’ll keep it quiet—”

“Not a chance.” There won’t be a soul in Greenbank, Pennsylvania, who won’t have heard about my engagement by the end of the day, which means the media will find out shortly after. With all the interest in Henry these days, that’s likely to cause a stir. Will the headlines be kind or judgmental? Worry gnaws at my bliss, threatening to damper it.

“And did you tell her it would be in Alaska?”

“One hurdle at a time.” Though I suspect that will be a monumental one to overcome. Mama will have her heart set on including the entire church congregation, and we can’t possibly be expected to fly them all up there.

Henry’s wry smirk says he guessed as much. “Wolf Hotels has a special events planner for big occasions. I’ll have Miles contact her to call you next week to start the ball rolling. She’s good. Her name is Jill, and she’ll organize anything you want.”

“We want,” I correct him. “It’s your wedding too.”

“Abbi, if it were up to me, we’d be driving to the courthouse from the tarmac as soon as we land, and I’d be fucking my wife by nightfall.”

“How romantic,” I tease, but my stomach flips with nerves. There is something swoony about his sudden impatience to marry me.

A dangerous glint lights in his eye as his grip tightens. “You want romance, Abbi?”

“I want you.”

“You already have me.” He yanks me forward and onto his lap, my legs straddling his thighs. “Every inch of me.” Heat from his strong, skilled hands seer my skin through my black leggings as they slide around to cup either side of my ass, pulling me forward until our torsos are flush against each other and that delicious hard ridge is pressing into the apex at my thighs.

I wind my arms around his neck, my wrists entwined behind his head. “I’ve never been happier in my life,” I whisper, a bubble of exhilaration stirring as I lean in to capture his plump lips.

“Same,” he murmurs against my mouth before our tongues meet in a slow, seductive dance that quickly spirals, his hand seizing a fistful of my hair, angling my head back so he can get closer.

Jack, the co-captain, slips out from the cockpit. “Sorry to disturb. We’re about to start our descent, and we’ll have you on the ground shortly. Is there anything you need in the meantime?”

“Draw the privacy curtain,” Henry demands in a gruff voice.

Could he make it any more obvious?

Heat crawls up my neck as I catch Jack’s sly smile.

“Yes, sir.” He taps his ring finger and mouths “Congratulations” before shutting us out with the thick gray curtain.

I let out a yelp as Henry stands and spins us around, releasing me into the seat he just vacated. He drops to his knees.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to ask that?” He tugs my shoes off and casts them aside, and then his fingers curl around the waistband of my leggings, peeling them, along with my panties, past my ankles, leaving me bare from the waist down.

Moisture pools at my core as he pushes my thighs apart, exposing me to the setting sun that streams in through the portal windows. “We were rough on you last night.” His index finger slides along my folds before easing inside.

I wince at the intrusion. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” He hooks his arm under my thigh and pulls my body toward him, halfway out of my seat. “But you will be.”

I barely bite back the moan at the first swipe of his tongue, but I can’t stop from crying out as he licks my sensitive flesh. From this angle, I can see everything he’s doing, and I watch intently as he seals his mouth over my clit.

Two fingers plunge in and find that spot deep inside. He puts pressure on it, stirring a flood of warmth.

“No one but me will ever taste you again, Abbi,” he purrs, his voice vibrating deep within me.

“No one,” I pant, my breath ragged as pressure builds low in my belly.

He slips his fingers out and his hands find the backs of my thighs, making my skin slick. He pushes them farther apart, stretching my body as far as it can go as his eyes flip to meet mine.

I see the truth in his hooded gaze, how much he enjoys doing this.

That tongue is mine for the rest of our lives …

His mouth seals over my clit, sucking hard.

My orgasm hits suddenly and unexpectedly. I stifle my cries and grab the back of his head, my fingers digging into his silky hair as I buck against his mouth, trying to get closer, to draw it out.

I haven’t even settled before Henry is unfastening his jeans and pushing them down his thighs. I cry out as he shoves his hard length into me in a single thrust.

“Wait!” I gasp.

He stalls his hips. “Are you that sore?”

“No, I just …” I am that sore, but I’m also desperate to have Henry come inside me. “I just need a minute. Please,” I say, even as I roll my hips against his, urging him to keep moving.

He smiles as he slides his cock out and back in, much slower this time, giving my body time to adjust to the intense, almost unbearable fullness of him. Over and over again, Henry pulls out and pushes back in with gentle thrusts, until my hips are lifting to meet his eagerly, begging for more.

“Fuck, Abbi,” he growls. “Sweater off, now.” He helps me tug it off and tosses it aside. Slipping a hand beneath my back, he has my bra unfastened with one expert flick of his fingers. In a split second, that’s cast aside, too, leaving me naked.

He peels his sweater off, giving me a delicious view of his sculpted chest.