Oh, I’ll fucking fill her up forever. My cock only wants to come home to her. Only wants to come in her, too.
I grip her little ass, squeezing her cheeks, pressing her back against the door. I thrust into her, hard; she swivels her hips slightly, panting as she does. Then my mouth is back on hers.
I kiss her deeply, my tongue devouring her, the passion between us mounting as we taste one another.
“Oh, baby,” she moans, her tits bouncing as I pound her just like she asked.
“I fucking love you, Claire,” I tell her, my tongue grazing her ear as my words fill the small space between us.
“I love you, too, Landon.” Her eyes close as she comes, her juice pouring out onto my skin; I squeeze her ass harder, my cock throbbing as I do. I’m so close to coming, but I want her to get off fully first.
Her body rocks as I slam into, her thighs trembling as they stay wrapped around me, tighter as she climaxes.
I love watching her get off, knowing I did that.
I come too, my load pouring into her, and her tightening pussy pulses in its release. She holds my shoulders as her head falls back, her eyes meeting mine.
“You are incredible,” I tell her, planting another kiss on her swollen lips.
She steals another kiss, and then says, “As are you.”
As we walk back into the pub, properly fucked, but not at all screwed, our fingers are laced, and I know it’s cheesy as hell, but our hearts are laced too.
This woman is motherfucking mine.
“Everything okay?” Emmy asks.
Claire nods, the hint of a smile on her lips, and she sighs heavily, still catching her breath. I swear I get hard just looking at the rise and fall of her tits in that soft sweater she’s wearing. I am such a lucky goddamned fool.
“We’re having a double wedding, in a week,” I tell the table. “And if you don’t like that, you can go. Okay? We don’t need people here who won’t support us. We’re fucking in love, and that should be enough for all of you.”
“Okay,” Emmy says, shrugging. “I’m sorry. I’m just ... looking out for you both.”
“I know,” Claire says, reaching for Emmy’s hand. “And I appreciate that. But whatever happens next with Landon and me is our business, okay?”
Everyone tilts their head, as if reading into Claire’s word choice … but we’ve made it pretty clear that we aren’t discussing our personal life.
But the truth is, I tilt my head, too.
Does Claire want to get married in a week, because I sure as hell do ... though I guess we haven’t made that explicitly clear. Yes, we’ve both said I love you ... But that doesn’t mean she’s agreeing to really being my fiancée.
But I hope like hell she wants to.
Maybe I need to make it officially-official. Maybe I need to propose again, properly. With her knowing my intentions.
I pull her close to me as a waiter delivers another round of pints. We pick up our frosty glasses.
“To our future,” I tell her, clinking my glass against hers.
She smiles, but it’s clear there are unspoken fears hiding behind her gorgeous green eyes. I have a pretty good idea of what those fears might be.
But she doesn’t need to worry.
I’ll figure out a job, get us a house, and then ask her to marry me.
All before our wedding next week.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Claire
As we walk back to the house a few hours later, my head spins.
But that’s mostly because I had about four pints at the bar.
Which for me, is a lot.
Like, loads.
Landon is grinning, laughing with Ace. Even Geoffrey is joining in, which is weird. Apparently those boys had a heart to heart; I’d ask about it but right now I don’t want anything to sour my mood. My silly, drunk, everything-feels-possible mood.
I know Landon is about ten steps ahead of me in this relationship–because I know he is all about that double wedding. Which is a thousand kinds of ridiculous, never in hell going to happen—I have a mother and a daughter expecting me home in a few days.
But I don’t want to ruin what we have, right now, by telling him my secret.
When I told him I loved him, I meant it. I mean it. I do. I want to be all in with him. Tomorrow, when I’m recovered from this hangover and my vision is less blurry, I’ll lay it all out for him. And then he can decide what he wants to do next.
Maybe it’s the highs and lows of this trip, but I think Landon is worth getting my heart broken over.
The way he holds me, sees me, wants me–it’s filling a hole that has been in my heart for so many years.
I want that hole to be filled, by him.
Emmy, Tess, and I are trying to include Fiona in our jokes—mostly obnoxious ones—as we stumble along the road home. The guys are in step with us, listening but mostly making dick jokes and trying to trip one another.