Proposing to Preston (The Winslow Brothers, #2)

Preston meant to go slow.

He had promised himself that he wouldn’t have any expectations and if she still wanted to wait, that he would be patient with her. But hearing permission tumble from her lips ground his good intentions to powder, and he reached for her face, dropping his lips to hers. He kissed her passionately and finally with abandon, rolling her onto her back to cover her body with his.

Cradling her face with his palms, he drew back to look at her slick, rosy lips, moving his erection intentionally against the damp tangle of curls between her thighs that he’d just loved with his mouth. She flinched, clenching her eyes shut and biting her bottom lip as his cock slid into the damp valley rubbing back and forth against her aroused clit.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

She did, and they were dark blue and glassy, full of rolling emotions. He read love and uncertainty, devotion and fear, trust and need…he saw it all staring back at him—the multiple facets of the woman he now called his wife, and it made his heart swell with tenderness to fully realize what she was giving to him today. Her heart, her life, her body. In every possible way, she would belong to him.

“I love you,” he breathed, positioning himself at her opening.

“Me too,” she sobbed, her breathing shallow and ragged. “Please, Pres. Please.”

As he entered her, her eyes widened with surprise. Holding her gaze, he inhaled and held his breath, trying not to cry out in pleasure as he moved past her lips into her tight, wet, silky heat.

“Okay?” he gasped.

“Okay,” she murmured, giving him a small smile as her fingers caressed his back from shoulder bone to hip, digging in a little where they rested over his ass.

“More?”

She nodded, her dark eyes sparkling with something undefinable and new that belonged only to him.

He allowed himself to surge forward a little more, feeling the soft ridges of her sex clinging to him as he slid deeper, his fingers dropping from her face to fist in the sheets on either side of her head.

He stayed as still as he could, giving her a moment to adjust to his size and width before he finally pushed through the thin barrier that would join them completely together.

He didn’t expect her to suddenly arch her back, thrusting her hips toward him, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he glided the rest of the way into her with a low, satisfied groan. Surrounded by her soft, wet, trembling sex, he opened his eyes as he drew back and plunged forward again.

Bending back her neck, she arched up again, burying her head in the pillow and pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. He withdrew again and surged forward, watching her face for any sign of fear or pain, but saw only pleasure in the fluttering of her eyes, in the clenching of her jaw and moans of “more.”

“Pres, how do… how do I…?” she whimpered, her fingers digging into his lower back as she started meeting him thrust for thrust.

“You let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’ll be right behind you.”

As he slid into her again, her eyes opened and she locked her gaze with his. “I’m so glad…it was you.” Then she closed her eyes and cried out his name, her whole body tensing beneath him before convulsing into the most beautiful fucking orgasm he’d ever seen in his entire life. Her skin flushed pink and glistened with sweat as his name fell from her lips over and over again like a litany or prayer or promise, and though he wouldn’t have believed it possible, he swelled inside of her, pulling out slowly, then pressing in deep.

As she pulsed around him, he felt the intense gathering, the pressure in the pit of his stomach, the tension that made his breathing so ragged and fast, he knew he couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Throwing back his head, he bellowed “I love you!” and let go, flooding his wife’s body with his life force and love and his most devout promise of a happy forever.





Chapter 11


The early morning sunshine was dazzling against her eyes when she opened them several hours later, taking a deep breath and stretching. She felt Preston’s warm, naked body behind her and smiled.

From the moment she’d asked him to make love to her, they’d both been ravenous for each other—greedy, urgent and demanding, and after having sex the first time, they’d made love all afternoon, into the night, only stopping to nap before reaching for each other again. They’d barely talked, engaging in a marathon of sex that had finally left them both exhausted.

Elise moved gingerly against him, not surprised to find she was tender between her thighs. Knowing that Preston’s body had used hers to aching was so sexy, it made her want him all over again. She was an addict, she thought with a saucy grin, addicted to her husb—um, to Preston.

“Are you awake?” he whispered.