Jennifer Probst - The Marriage Merger

Holy shit, her demand touched his skin with pure flame.

He studied her face, looked into her eyes, and realized something else was going on, something he didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. He opened his mouth to call it off, but her hand did some magic stroking, and he shuddered helplessly.

Sawyer slid his arms over his head and grasped the rails.

She purred like a cat and all that silky skin poured over him like warm sticky honey. He’d play her game for a few, then wrest back control when she was too far gone.

Confident in his plan, he enjoyed the shift of her body and the clench of her thighs as she adjusted herself over him.

He waited for the ease of foreplay, the glide of her mouth over his, the stroke of her hands on his body.

Instead, she lowered her mouth and took his shaft deep.

He bucked up at the sudden move and gritted his teeth.

Jesus, her tongue swirled around and licked with an exper-tise that made his eyes roll in the back of his head. Her hair spilled over his stomach and thighs, the strands sweeping and tickling his skin and wrapping him in a sensual cocoon.

Completely under her spell, his fingers tightened on the wooden spindles.

She demolished him. Her teeth scraped the underside of his length, while her fingers massaged his testicles. Deep moaning sounds from her mouth vibrated off his erection and tumbled through his body. He stretched to monstrous proportions until his skin was pulled so tight he didn’t think he could hold off any longer.

every stroke of her tongue and lips and teeth bespoke a pure giving of herself over to him. This was more than sex, more than a woman who wanted to receive pleasure. She continued to drive him toward orgasm at a heart-stopping pace he couldn’t seem to control.

He released his hold on the rails. “Wait. Baby, wait, let me—”

She lifted her head. “No.” Cocoa brown eyes seethed with arousal, lust, and a need that stripped him of any rights.

“Don’t make me punish you.” She reached up and cupped her breasts, running her fingers over her tight nipples, taunting him. “or you don’t get to touch me at all.”

The monster he’d created took charge. His body shut down his mind, and with a muttered curse, he returned to his original position. He feasted on the lush curves of her ass, the way the hall light played over her body, the delicious up and down motion of her mouth as she sucked him.

He hung on to his control with his last rasping breath, but it didn’t stop, never stopped. She kissed every part of him, his legs, hips, stomach. Moved up his chest to play with his nipples while her hands massaged and rubbed his erection, keeping him iron hard. When she finally reached his mouth, he was starved for her taste. She nibbled his bottom lip, running her tongue lightly over the seam, until he groaned and opened for her.

She dove in, claiming him as he’d claimed her endless nights, knowing he was completely at her mercy. She tasted of sweet chocolate, crisp mint, a touch of Kalúha. Her musky arousal assaulted his nostrils and made him crazed for more. His fingers gripped with all his strength until he was afraid the posts would snap in two.

“you taste so good. Feel so good,” she breathed against him, diving in deep with her tongue. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Time to finish. He eased his hold and got ready to take what was his.

But she sensed his shift and slid down his body in one graceful motion. Parted her legs. And buried him to the hilt inside her.

He cried out. Her silky, wet channel clenched around him and squeezed tight. She adjusted her position, shimmy-ing her hips as she took control and began easing up and down on top of him. Within pleasure, a glimmer of fear took root in his gut. He fought for rational thought and began to flip her over.

“No.” Her eyes were wild, her lips soft and slightly bruised. “Let me do this. Let me love you.”

The words stung like wasps. He lost his breath. “Don’t.”

She arched, and ripples of pleasure shot down his dick.

“Julietta, please.”

“Let go. Just this once.”

She didn’t wait for his response. She rode him hard and wild and deep. His need to come, to give to her, roared up and washed away the last of his control. He watched her as she neared the edge, held herself there, her fingers digging into his hips, hair streaming down her back, face completely open to him.

“Tell me you belong to me.”

Her demand singed his nerves. Sawyer gritted his teeth, and the orgasm shimmered before him in all its haunting glory. “I belong to you.”

“Come for me, Sawyer.”

With a shout, he let go. His seed shot inside of her, but she never stopped the frantic pounding rhythm. She drenched him with her own climax, and aftershocks of pleasure hit and convulsed his body. The orgasm went on and on with so much intensity it blurred into pain. Sawyer took it all, humbled by her beauty, and a wave of emotion washed over him in violent splendor.

Her body folded over. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and he stroked back her damp hair. She gave him the words in the darkness with no hesitation.

“I love you, Sawyer. This is more than sex. More than business or companionship or something on paper. This is about how I feel when I look at you. About the way you protect Wolfe, and how you respect me, and how you make me a better person. A whole person. It’s about the man I see every day. I believe he has everything to give; he’s just afraid to take it. I’m not going to be afraid anymore. I’m going to be brave enough for both of us.”

The stunning words crashed through his barriers and pierced his heart. His thoughts whirled in a jumbled mass of confusion and need and fear he’d never experienced.

Unable to speak, unable to do anything but breathe and remain frozen, Sawyer did nothing.

A while later, she fell asleep, never asking for his an-swer.

Two days later, Sawyer punched the button for the inter-com. “Is Wolfe back yet?”

His secretary’s voice came out crisp and sharp. “He just arrived, Mr. Wells. Should I send him in?”

“Please.”

He pushed back from his chair and paced his inner sanctum, stopping by the few erotic pieces he displayed on the wall. He’d begun to notice his new wife had a touch of oCD and constantly needed to straighten paintings, pic-tures, or knickknacks to a perfect line. especially when she was stressed. It was another tic he enjoyed getting to know about her.

Sawyer studied the paintings. They were subtle enough for an office, yet still retained the aura of sensuality he enjoyed studying. The woman lay her head on the man’s chest, her eyes closed, her face reflecting a peace and satisfaction of a recent orgasm. The man held her in a possessive gesture that always fascinated Sawyer. When he took women to bed, he had never experienced the need to hold them close afterward or the roar of his inner primate to claim them on any more than a physical level. He soothed, comforted, supported. He pleasured. Never, ever did he actually feel.

Until Julietta.

They’d gone riding yesterday again. Taking advantage of the lure of spring, they’d actually played hooky on their lunch hour and taken to the streets. He loved the wild freedom of watching her take off on the sexy bike, her laugh-ter and challenge echoing in the air around them as they roared through the city.

He still hadn’t responded to her comment of love. He’d prepared himself for a dreaded conversation where he once again explained his emotional limitations, but instead she hadn’t said a word. Just continued as if the event had never happened.

He didn’t even know if he was overjoyed or pissed off.

The door opened behind him, but he didn’t turn around.

“About time you got back. Don’t tell me we had more problems on the site.”

“No. remember I told you I needed a few hours to meet with Maggie?”

“oh, yeah, the modeling thing.” Sawyer shook his head in amusement. “you won’t even wear the designer clothes I got you, let alone get in front of a camera. But I thought it was really nice you let Maggie drag you over there.” He twisted to face Wolfe with a grin. “How’d you get—holy shit!”

He blinked, not recognizing the boy in front of him.

He looked more man than boy. His crazy spiked hair had been completely shaved off so he sported the popular look preferred by today’s youth. Without hair, nothing de-flected from the strong lines of his face, the stinging blue of his eyes, the strong jaw with the slight dimple that he never noticed because of the facial jewelry. A bit of stubble hugged his chin.

His basic shirt and tie had been replaced by an Armani suit that seemed to have been custom-made for him. Snug lines emphasized his height, and the double-breasted jacket with a red tie gave him a dashing aura that would have women dropping their panties. Crap, his shoulders and biceps were huge, evident in the way the material stretched. All that working out had given his apprentice another benefit.

A hot bod, as the ladies would say.

His gaze kept roving over the boy’s figure but his mouth wouldn’t work. Wolfe scowled and thrust out his jaw in familiar rebellion. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like the hair?”

Sawyer struggled for words. “you look so different.”

“Different how? Do I look like a nerd, dude?”

He shook his head in awe. “Hell, no. you look awesome.

How did Maggie talk you into this? What happened?”

Wolfe shifted his weight. “I had a consultation with the designer. He was a trip. Loved my look, but said we needed to soften some of the edge. Maggie suggested I go for the shaven style, and I figured it would be good for business, too. I mean, I can’t keep meeting big clients with this appearance anymore. It’s just not fair to you.”

Sawyer remained mute, feeling as if he’d been dropped into an alternate universe. Was this the kid who sneered and challenged and refused to bend?

“So, we got it done, and the guy booked me for a shoot next week. But listen, I don’t want you to think this is going to pull me away from Purity. It’s a Saturday session, and I’ll make up the hours. Is this cool with you?”

raw emotion rose up and choked him. “It’s very cool with me. Jesus, Wolfe, you look amazing. So . . . grown up.

And you’re gonna be a fucking cover model? Women will be dropping at your feet.”

Wolfe grinned and again, Sawyer was struck by how the boy seemed to have changed. “yeah, we can hope. Listen, I gotta catch up with Julietta on a few things. you need me for anything?”

“Not now. We have a four o’clock meeting I’ll need you to sit in on.”

“No problem. Thanks, Sawyer.”

Sawyer watched the door close behind Wolfe. Pride surged and tingled through every vein in his body. Somehow, someway, Wolfe was going to be okay.

…

Later that night, Sawyer watched the credits roll past on the massive TV, and he pulled his wife’s feet into his lap.

She groaned as he massaged her insteps. “I can’t take any more,” she moaned deliciously. “No more Rocky. I’m burnt out. How does he always manage to come from behind when he’s so much smaller than his opponents?”

Wolfe snorted. “Wait till you see the final installment.

Five sucks bad so we’re skipping it, but he brings it home in the sixth.”

“But how old is he? I thought his brain was fried in three?”

Sawyer gave a patient sigh. Women. “He pushed through it. Wolfe’s right, five’s a tragedy. But the last one wraps the whole series up. Poor guy.”

“yeah, it’s sad how lost he seems without Adrian.”

Julietta swung her head around. “What? Adrian dies?

That’s terrible! I don’t want to see it.”

Wolfe stuffed another handful of popcorn in his mouth and adjusted his blanket. Clad in flannel pants and a long-sleeved shirt, he propped his bare feet on the edge of the chair with a bowl settled in his lap. “Come on, Julietta.

you’re usually not so girly. Suck it up.”

She sputtered a laugh, which turned into one of those yummy moans when Sawyer worked her toes. She had pretty feet, with delicate bones and fire-engine-red nails.

“Fine. But this is the last one. It’s almost two a.m.. I’ll be dreaming about knockout punches.”

Sawyer pressed a kiss to the top of her head and eased off the sofa to slip in the last DVD. When Wolfe arrived home from work, Julietta always greeted him with a kiss and a huge. Sure, Wolfe usually looked awkward and ducked his head, but the flash of pleasure in those blue eyes told him the truth. He’d gotten quite attached to Julietta and allowed her liberties most couldn’t claim. Like touches, smiles, and even the occasional laugh.