Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess, #2)

I can’t believe I’m this wet.

And he was living for it, using her readiness to his advantage. He pumped two huge fingers inside of her while flicking his tongue against her clit. Oh. Mama. Was he serious? “Babe, please,” she panted, no idea who she was calling babe. But saying it again, anyway, in the next breath, because what else to call a man making her feel this good? Her whole body was surface-of-the-sun level hot. Knees shaking. Throat strained like she’d just left a Harry Styles concert. Had she been screaming? Was she screaming now? “Harder, babe. Please. Okay?”

What was she asking for?

No idea.

But he gave it to her, almost completely pulling out his fingers, then thrusting them deep and holding them there while his licks turned rougher. Pinpricks of light appeared in her vision, forming constellations on the ceiling, and she tipped her head back, letting the pleasure plow through. Unequivocal hedonism. That’s what this was.

With strands of his hair wrapped around her fingers, she raked her hips side to side against his mouth and he kept his tongue stiff for her, adapting on the fly, trusting her to know what she wanted in that moment of euphoria, also known as the best climax of her life. She was trembling and mumbling to herself when she came down from the highest peak. August kissed the insides of her thighs, looking like he was already considering round two, shoulder muscles bunching as if he was just waiting for the green light.

“Red light,” she slurred, slapping a hand to her forehead, trying desperately to calm her breathing. No way she could let him do that to her again. Who knew what lust-drunk Natalie would do next? Round one: call him babe. Round two: offer to bear him sons.

“I’d be happy with a son or daughter.” He grinned. “As long as they’re happy and healthy, right?”

Right. Great. She’d been talking out loud.

How thoroughly had this man scrambled her brain?

In the middle of kissing her thigh, he smirked.

“So smug, aren’t you?” she said, still short of oxygen, which really took the sting out of her rebuke. Her tone was more fawning than critical.

This couldn’t stand. The night could not end like this.

He’d have the upper hand and he would be insufferable. She’d totally lost herself in the act and he would miss no opportunity to remind her how she’d essentially erupted like Vesuvius, called him an endearment, and lost power to her limbs. Minutes later and her legs were limp. Resting on his shoulders. When did that happen?

There was only one way to even the scales.

“You don’t think I could make you call me babe?”

His mouth paused in the act of nuzzling the inside of her knee. “Natalie . . .”

Having a purpose breathed new life back into her limp body. She allowed her legs to slide from the rocky slopes of his shoulders onto the bed, gathering herself into a kneel and turning around, gesturing to the zipper of her dress. “Can you help me out of this?”

“I-I don’t . . .” His voice had dropped lower than a baritone. “That might not be a good idea.”

“I needed help to get into this dress.” She blinked at him innocently. “Now I need help getting out of it. Simple as that. Besides, it’s tradition.”

One of his eyebrows winged up at the T word. “Really?”

She nodded earnestly, giving him her back.

The heat of August’s hands met the area below her shoulder blades. He hesitated with his fingers on the zipper. “What exactly are you wearing under this dress?”

“Nothing exciting.”

Without him making a sound, his skepticism was obvious. “I know when you are lying.”

She scoffed. “No, you don’t.”

“It’s the only time you sound casual.”

Natalie frowned. Was he right?

“I’m going to ask you again, what’s under this dress, princess? I need to be prepared.”

“A strapless bra and panties. My God. You’re acting like there might be a sniper.”

“Same level of danger as a strapless bra on those tits, as far as I’m concerned. I wasn’t lying when I told you they look insane.”

“Unzip the dress, banana brain. Or I’ll be sleeping in it.” She looked back at him over her shoulder and broke out the big guns. “Please, August?” she half whispered, trying to look as helpless as possible. “I need your help.”

His lips parted on a long intake of breath, eyes darkening. “Come here,” he rasped, pulling her backward into his lap and drawing the zipper down slowly. “I’ve got you.”

She had him, too.

Right where she wanted him.

As soon as the opening was loose, she pushed the dress down, lifting her hips to divest herself of the heavy material. She used her foot to slide it off the bed into an ivory heap, her rear end landing soundly back into August’s lap, eliciting a groan.

“Can’t help but notice you’re half naked in my lap all of a sudden,” he half slurred.

“Noticed that, did you?”

“Tradition means nothing to you.” His warm breath slid along her neck, knuckles from both hands traveling upward on her rib cage. “This was a trick.”

“Evil of me, wasn’t it?” She circled her hips on his lap. “There has to be some way I can make it up to you.”

“Natalie . . . ” he warned through his teeth. “I told you. We’re not having s—”

“You can touch my boobs.”

“Under the bra or over?” he blurted, that big chest heaving at her back.

The corner of her lips ticked up. Gotcha.

She pulled down the cups of her strapless bra and guided his hands there, surprised when they didn’t just grab on or handle her breasts too roughly. She should probably stop being surprised by August now. By the way he gently played with her nipples, dragging his thumbs over them, side to side, his mouth beginning to lick and nip at her neck. Oh. Wow. If she didn’t keep control of this situation, she would wake up tomorrow without the upper hand. She might as well raise the white flag and surrender any leverage she had left.

Climbing off August’s lap, she turned around on her knees, allowing herself a second to savor his choked curse at the sight of her bare breasts—

And then she shoved him onto his back.

She raked a hand up and over the distended crotch of his dress pants, stroking him firmly through the material. “My turn.”

“Blow job?” he asked, hoarsely. Openly hopeful and visibly shocked.

She nodded.

“Oh. Okay. Wow. Jesus.” A monster shudder went through his giant frame and he dropped fully onto the bed, his muscular chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. “When you’re fucked, you’re fucked,” he muttered thickly, seemingly to himself.

He reached down and started unbuckling his belt.

It shouldn’t have been so hot. Really. It shouldn’t have.

But those big mitts fumbling with the metal buckle and the eager flex of his abdomen made her tongue heavy in her mouth. So eager that she was kissing his stomach, biting the sinew that ran in a downward-pointing V along his hips.

“Bite harder,” he said, laboring to breathe, his hands dropping away from the belt. “Harder, please.”

Oh God. When he begged her to bite harder, she wanted to.

Badly.

She sucked a gust of air into her lungs and shot forward, sinking her teeth into the meat of his hip, drawing a shout from August that resonated through her entire body. “Fuck yes,” he growled. There was a brief pause before he lifted his head to look down at her. “Don’t bite my dick, obviously.”

Natalie giggled.

He grinned back. A big, bad warrior with an inconvenient charming side. It was alarming, the severe pinch she felt in her chest at that moment, so she closed her eyes and licked over the rope of muscle that ran along his sides, then down to his belly button, wetting a path through those coarse whorls of his hair. Her right hand delved into his pants and . . . okay, she’d expected this.

Of course it was XL. He was XL.

But she couldn’t even get her hand around him.

“Just do the best you can,” he gasped, one hand gripping the sheets, the other one cupping the side of her face. But not to guide her down. It was almost like pregratitude. Oh my God, Natalie is about to suck me off. Oh my God.

Had she ever felt confident during sex before? She’d always assumed so. She even liked to think of herself as adventurous.

But now, with this man almost hyperventilating at the thought of her mouth on him, she felt like a goddess. Seductive. So confident in herself and his imminent enjoyment of her that she was almost purring when she drew August’s shaft out through the opening of his pants.

“Wow,” she whispered, swallowing. “Wow.”

It swelled further and August bit off a curse, hips twisting right. “Now that’s the reaction a man wants on his wedding night.”

What was her whole plan about keeping the upper hand?