Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

My body instantly responds, tightening with urgency as we begin to ascend. I clutch him as he makes more declarations, his hand gripping my bare thigh beneath my dress. “From now until fucking forever,” he whispers vehemently, “we pay attention to our story, not theirs.”

Getting lost in sensation, in his touch, in him, I flick my tongue against his neck with my reply. “Bet.”

Relief sweeps his features as I press kisses along his jaw, repeating the word between each. As if my sentiments break the last of his control, he plunges into my mouth with a possessive tongue, feeding it to me first before I latch onto it and suck as he hoists me up further against the elevator wall. All at once, we burst into motion, his kiss sending me straight into orbit. The time and space between us continually diminish as the elevator doors open, and I remain wrapped around him, pulling my phone out of my pocket in an attempt to type out quick texts with my lips still latched to his neck.

With Easton. Presidential Suite. Never leaving. Go home without me.

Holly: All good. Eggplant emoji

Confused by her reply and easy permission, I frown at my phone.

“Huh? That’s weird.”

“What?”

“Holly just let me off the hook without demanding an explanation, no sign of mama bear in sight.”

“I can’t believe you’re fucking texting right now,” he growls, walking us down the corridor.

I lick along his neck before sweeping up the wet trail with the brush of my lips. “I’m clearing my schedule for my number one priority.” I pull his lobe into my mouth and bite.

“Well, when you put it that way, fine, but make it snappy,” he orders in heated demand.

“Snappy?” I laugh as he bursts through the door of his suite with me still firmly in his hold.

“That’s from my mom,” he admits with a smirk before setting me on my feet, his eyes pooling rapidly with desire before he pins me with his hips to the wall. He begins his wicked assault as I attempt to compose one last short text.

“I just have to,” Kiss. “Text.” Kiss. “My dad,” I finish as he pushes the jacket off my shoulders before he trails a tongue-filled kiss from the hollow of my throat to my lips. I adjust my arms to accommodate him as I try to type behind his back.

Groaning in frustration, he further nails me to the wall, fisting my dress at my thigh and gathering the material into his hand while using the other to dip in the back of my panties. Gripping my bare ass, he jerks my lower half forward, grinding the swollen length of his jean-covered cock against the thin material of my panties.

“Ah,” I gasp out, shooting off the only text I’m able to manage before releasing my phone. It clatters somewhere on the floor beneath us. I lick along his Adam’s apple just as he pushes my panties to the side and thrusts thick fingers into me. Shuddering around him, I cry out in pleasure.

“Maybe I should punish you,” he utters in a lust-filled threat.

“Absolutely…not,” I protest while he runs a featherlight fingertip along my clit, leaving me needy.

“You looked so fucking beautiful last night it hurt,” he pants, “but you meant to hurt me in that fucking bikini today. I almost had a goddamned heart attack when I saw that chain around your waist. It took every bit of my willpower not to get hard. That was cruel, baby.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you are,” he taunts, pumping his fingers faster. I hear my own arousal as his touch brings me straight to the brink. “Jesus…Easton, I’m going to come.”

“Not without me inside you.” He withdraws his fingers as I grip his wrist with one hand, bringing it back to where it was, and use the other to clutch his jaw firmly. “Easton, I love you, and if you want to punish me later, I’m all for it, but it’s been way too long, so I’m going to need you to skip the preliminaries and punch the hell in to get to work.”

A short pause before a burst of laughter follows, and I glare at him. “Please, Easton,” I whimper, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you, Beauty,” he murmurs before kneeling and untying my sandals. Standing, he brings the hem of my dress up and over my head, leaving me in nothing but a white thong.

Raking his lip with his teeth, he steps back and scans me as I grip the back of his neck. “Buttons, I need you to concentrate on my buttons. Easton, focus,” I grit out, clit thrumming, body blazing with need.

“Okay, Beauty, okay,” he murmurs in amusement, sweeping me into his arms and gently depositing me on my feet next to the bed. As he discards his boots, I glance back at the oversized king to see it’s freshly made. I swallow down the jealous sting the sight of it brings while biting the question away. Standing, Easton begins to unbutton his shirt and pauses when he reads my hesitation. “No, baby, fuck no. I couldn’t,” he admits earnestly. “Especially after I saw you last night. I couldn’t, Natalie. You’re safe with me.”

Relieved, I nod, “We hurt her, Easton.”

“We hurt a lot of people, but the only two we need to be worrying about right now are in this room.”

“Right,” I agree, temporarily letting that guilt go and clasping my hands around his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Beauty,” his eyes glitter down on me, “so fucking much. Now,” he says, sliding a palm down my stomach and into my panties, slipping a few fingers inside me, just as his thumb begins to slowly massage my clit, “about these buttons.”

He kisses me, and all outside thoughts melt away, as do the rest of our clothes. The second Easton has me ready, he turns me to lay on my stomach and drags me to the edge of the bed. One hand gripping the back of my neck, he lifts my leg, propping my bent knee on the mattress. His breath hits my ear as his words set my body alight. “Just so you know, I missed this pussy so much. I plan on working a lot of overtime.” With that, he buries himself to the hilt. Stretched in a mix of pain and pleasure, I call out to him as a groan bursts from his own lips. Wasting no time, he angles his hips, pushing in impossibly further. He drives his point home as he squeezes the back of my neck, claiming words pouring from his lips, “For me.”

“Forever,” I pant out as he leaves us locked. Tilting his pelvis, he grinds into me with expert precision, hitting me just so. Not long after, I’m convulsing around him, ecstasy-laced words and praises pouring from me. He milks my orgasm until I go boneless, whispering my love. Withholding his own release, he slowly turns me over, lust taking up his expression as he rears his hips back and slowly pushes in, eyes hooding as he watches the stretch he’s creating. Rapt, his focus remains on where we connect before his eyes light a trail of fire up my body, seeking and holding mine. We get lost in our stare, and it’s there we hurdle over the rest of our separation in the last year, our struggle to get to this point, so painful, so heart-wrenching but so incredibly—

“Worth it,” he finishes because he’s thinking the same thing.

My best friend.

My lover.

My forever.




Covered in a sheen of sweat, Easton keeps my leg hooked on his hip with his palm as he thrusts into me with abandon, shifting his angle to hit me exactly where I need him to. Within seconds, I’m coiled and ready.

“Give it up, Beauty,” he pants, just before my body obeys, heart thundering in my ears as pleasure pulses through me. Groaning through his own release, he pulses inside while kissing me breathless.

Collapsing onto his back, he pulls me to cover his upper half and turns to catch the light filtering in behind the curtain. His lips lift in a grin.

“What?” I ask.

“Is it sunrise or sunset?”

“Morning…definitely morning.”

The truth is, neither of us has any clue at this point. We haven’t left our room or opened the thick curtains to gauge time, but instead spent it all making up for what we lost before losing track of it altogether.

What I am sure of is that I don’t want to return to the world yet, nor do I want to share the man I’m holding hostage just as much as he is me.

The difference now is that I’m not dreading the return, not at all—just prolonging it. Easton traces my skin before running a finger over the faint pink scar along my breast.

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