Undeniably Married (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires Book 4)

I can’t stop smiling. All through my shower and the entire time while I get dressed. Even as I sip my smoothie and reheat our now-cold breakfast in the kitchen, I can’t stop smiling. I need to make it stop. But it’s the goofy, happy sort of grin I get. The one I had the night of the draft when I went second overall or when I won the Super Bowl a few years ago—at only the age of twenty-five, I might add.

It’s my I’m a happy motherfucker smile.

I already know Sorel is about to wipe it off my face, but for a moment, I enjoy it. This feeling. This high. I haven’t had a woman get to me in a long time, and never to this extent. She’s in my head—she’s been there for a year—but now I think she owns my heart too, and while that should scare me because she’s not even remotely interested in being there, in this second, it doesn’t.

I’m riding the wave she comes with.

I used to sleep around. I was a bit of an admitted player. I like sex and I like women, and I’ve never had trouble getting either. Being the son of a famous NFL star and becoming one yourself leads to that.

But none of them have been Sorel. No one knows I haven’t been with anyone since I met her. I don’t talk about it, and they probably just assume I still get some. I felt a bit pathetic, but now it makes this so much better.

It’s with that thought in mind that I finish my smoothie and leave her reheated breakfast on the table. I go back out to the balcony to try not to look as desperate as I feel. I want her to come to me, but maybe she’s not ready for that. Maybe it’s going to be a week of me chasing and coming after her. That’s fine. I can handle that. If there’s a chance of her staying with me on the other side of this, I’ll chase her anywhere.

“How can you stand this heat?” she asks, and I turn, trying to curb my damn stupid smile.

“It oddly feels good.”

She lingers along the doorway. “Did you eat?”

I shake my head.

“Come eat with me.” Without waiting for me, she turns and walks back inside. I follow her because, like I said, I’m willing to chase, but when I get inside, she’s sitting on top of the table instead of in one of the chairs. “The table is too long and formal,” she explains. “Sit up here. It’ll be like a picnic.” She pats the spot across from her. “I can’t have this type of chat at a table like this. I’ll feel like a Mafia bride being offered up as part of some deal.”

I move a chair out of the way, grab the side, and haul myself up and onto it. She raises an impressed eyebrow, and I wink at her.

“Athlete, not don.”

“That’s not a selling point for me.”

I shake my head and lean across the small space between us to whisper in her ear. “That’s because you were with the wrong one.”

She laughs and shoves me back. “No distracting me. Not until we talk. After that, you can distract me all you want.”

That catches my attention, and my eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

She smiles and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, gliding her teeth along the soft flesh. “Might be fun to fool around while we’re here, don’t you think?”

I snag on the middle part of that, caught on the line like a fish dangling from a hook. Fool around while we’re here. Meaning not after that and definitely not anything beyond fucking. A fling. She wants me to be her rebound, Vegas fling. My heart sinks, but I brush it off. I shouldn’t have expected she’d want more. How could she? It’s too soon.

“I might be okay with that.” With the caveat that I plan to try to make you mine by the end of this week.

“Good.” She glances down again, and it still shocks me that this sexy, beautiful, smart, funny woman is so demure. So bold yet vulnerable. It’s not even a Brody thing, though I have to imagine that didn’t help, and it’s not even a confidence thing because I know she has that. She’s shy. She’s an introvert. She keeps herself along with her heart and thoughts held tight.

The mystery of her is part of what drew me to her initially. It felt like trying to put together a five-thousand-piece puzzle without a picture to help guide you. I wanted to know every thought she refused to share, and even now, it’s like that. A challenge. Something I have to work for.

She’s different, that’s for sure. So unlike the women I encounter.

“Go on,” I encourage when she ends it there.

She unwraps her breakfast sandwich and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I complicated this. I dragged you into my drama and mess and then upped the ante and married you.”

“As I recall, I suggested Vegas.”

“I talked you into marrying me.”

“I knew what I was getting into.” I swallow. “Are you regretting that now?”

“No!” she exclaims, setting her sandwich down. “To be honest, I’m not regretting either. I mean, the fact that we’re married is over the top, and we’ll obviously have to have it taken care of at our first opportunity, and yes, I momentarily freaked out this morning and perhaps just now a bit after the sex.” She shrugs and laughs in a cute, self-deprecating way. “What can I say, none of this is me. At least not sober me.”

‘Last night was the drunkest I’ve seen you. I was trying to remember this morning, but I think other than that time we all drank those bottles of wine at my place after I lost in the playoffs, I’ve never seen you trashed.”

“Because I rarely get trashed. Another shrug. “Now I have no choice but to roll with it and let fate deal me another hand.”

“Now you know why I said yes to you.”

She picks at the bagel of her sandwich, twisting the bread between her fingers. “But I keep feeling like it’s an uneven exchange. You’ve done all these things for me, and I’ve given you nothing but a headache and a load of bullshit you now have to deal with in return.”

“You gave me a hell of a lot more than that this morning.”

She blushes and stares down at her bagel as she mangles the poor thing. “You know what I meant.”

“And I meant what I said.” I take a breath. “Sorel, you don’t have to worry about me. I wasn’t that drunk last night, and I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. I’m here. I’m in this. I care a lot about you, and your happiness means everything to me. I don’t regret a second of any of it. I like being the one to help you through this. I like being someone you can trust and rely on. And I fucking love being the guy you need me to be. Sex. Lust. Friendship. Trust. Honestly. No fucking regrets. All of it, I’m here for.”

Her hazel eyes are warm and piercing. “I’m glad, Mason. I’m so used to worrying about everyone else’s feelings all the time. It’s a habit I’m working on trying to break since it’s never served me well. This morning…” She trails off with a laugh. “But I’ve never had to do that with you. You tell me things straight up and are always there right when I need you to be. Hell, you’ve even been handbag shopping with me and that’s like running a gauntlet.”

I chuckle lightly. “That was an experience, but let’s just say it brought us closer together.”

“Katy and Tinsley said you’re one of the best guys they know. They’re not wrong. I’ve felt that way about you since I first met you.” She looks up at me through her lashes. “I’m glad I’m here with you. I’m glad we’re doing this. Thank you, Mason. For everything.”

I lean in and kiss her. The truth is, I don’t know what to say. You’re welcome feels trite. I’m hiding things from her. I want to be the guy she needs, but I also want to be the guy she wants. The guy she falls for. The guy she can’t get enough of and maybe even considers staying with even if the marriage ends.

With that thought sticking in my head, I kiss her deeper and push our food to the side.

She giggles against my lips. “We’re not done talking. Or eating.”

“We can talk later. And I’ll take you to a buffet after this and feed you whatever you want. Or maybe I’ll simply feed you my cock while I feast on your pussy, and we’ll survive by eating each other.”

She pants. “Your mouth⁠—”

“Makes you come.”

“Yes. It does. But every time you say we’ll talk later, this happens.”

“Not a bad pattern to start.” I drag my hands through her hair and hold her tighter to me, playing with her lips. “Stop worrying so much, Sorel. You don’t have to do that with me. I won’t be your regret. I’ll be your adventure.”

She moans against me and climbs onto my lap, her knees pressing into the table as she tilts her head to drive our kiss deeper. “I like that,” she purrs against my lips. “You being my adventure. I might just let you do whatever you want to me.”

My teeth graze her jaw. “Is that so?”

“You said it yourself,” she pants, her nails scraping through my hair and along my scalp. “You’ve been such a good boy. You deserve it. I’m thinking we both do.”

I groan as her tongue flicks my lips. “Hard to argue that. What does whatever I want mean? Anything?”

She smirks against me. “Anything. Surprise me. I’m all for those sexy lessons we talked about.” She pulls back ever so slightly, but I can see the blush all over her. She’s covered in nerves but musters on. “I want you to fuck me like a dirty slut, but I need to be treated like a princess too.”

I’m not going to survive her. I already know it.

The bravery and trust it took for her to say that to me absolutely floors me.

“You’re my princess,” I whisper against her lips as I pull her top off and toss it to the side. Her bra goes with it, and I undo her shorts and slip my hand inside her panties. “But I’m going to love fucking you like my dirty slut.”

“Yes,” she whines, moving into me. “That’s exactly what I want.”

She’s soaked for me. I don’t know if it’s because she’s incredibly turned on or if it’s still some of my cum from earlier dripping out. But the thought of fucking my cum back into her takes me from hard to steel.

I slip two fingers straight into her tight pussy and start pumping up.

“Grind against me, baby. Rub your sweet little clit on my palm.”

Her hands settle on my shoulders, and she starts to do just that, moving forward and backward against my hand and up and down on my fingers. She’s unbelievably sexy like this, breathless with dark, heavy-lidded eyes trained on me as she takes what she wants from me.

I lean in and suck her nipple into my mouth, and she emits a shaky breath.

“Ah, I don’t remember my nipples being this sensitive. Or maybe it’s just you. I like that. Whatever you’re doing, I like.”

“What else? What’s something you’ve always wanted someone to do to you, but you were too afraid to ask?” I have a suspicion of something I picked up on earlier. Something that I think even caught her by surprise.

Her eyes pinch shut as she picks up her pace. She’s getting close. I can feel it. Her cunt is soaking me. “I don’t know.” Her forehead falls to mine as she continues to ride me like this.

“You know, Sorel. You haven’t let yourself live it out in your mind, but it’s in there. I bet, even when you’re alone and you’re using your vibrator or fingers, occasionally you let your mind wander to those dark, dirty, slutty places.”

She keeps her eyes shut as she continues to fuck my fingers and hand. I’m testing her. I know I am. She had meh sex with mediocre partners, and her latest betrayed her. But the girl who climbed onto my lap on a dining room table just now and asked me to fuck her like a slut, the girl who let me fuck her in a pool on an outdoor balcony, has a dirty mind. She has a wild side she’s never allowed out for one reason or another, but she’s tempted by it.

The devil calls to her. She just has to be willing to answer.

She’s panting harder now, but her lips are sealed.

“We’re going to be that for each other,” I tell her, licking a circle around her nipple. “It’s going to be a week of fulfilling each other’s fantasies, one by one.”

“Oh, god, Mason.” She moans, and her pussy clenches fiercely around my fingers as she continues to ride me. Her orgasm hits making her hips jerk wildly as they buck and mindlessly dig against my palm. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she holds me as if I’m the only thing keeping her upright. I kiss her neck, her skin tacky and warm and fucking delicious.

Just like her.

Speaking of…

The moment her body sighs and relaxes against me, I slip my fingers out of her shorts and into my mouth one by one. I can taste her, but I can also taste myself, and while that’s not normally something that would ever turn me on, mixed with her, it’s fucking heady. It makes me want to rip off her shorts and splay her out on this table so I can see my cum inside her.

I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom before, and I didn’t even think twice about it earlier. At that moment, I felt like I was going to die if I wasn’t inside her that very second, desperation like I’ve never known taking the reins, and I acted instinctively. I tried to pull out, but the fact that she let me take her bare is doing all kinds of cartwheels in my mind.

I have to see it. I fucking have to.

“Take off your shorts,” I tell her. Wordlessly, she climbs off me, obeying me immediately. She rises to her knees and slips her shorts and panties off until she’s completely naked on top of the table. “Jesus, Sorel.” I shake my head, letting her hear the wonder in my voice and see it across my face. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

She stares down at me, and I catch it. The flash of disbelief. I climb up onto my knees to join her, removing my shirt as I go. She looks away for a beat, and I drag her face back to mine.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I’m seven years older than you, Mason. You screw women at least ten years younger than me who earn a living based on their bodies. I’m not being insecure. That just feels impossible to believe given who you are and the women I’m sure you’ve been with. I eat real food and exercise when I can, but I’m normal. I have a roll on my belly when I sit and some cute puckering on my ass. I’m okay with that, but I liked the honesty we had going. I don’t need unnecessary compliments.”

I cup her breasts in my hands, quietly groaning at the feel of her, and run my thumbs back and forth over her nipples while I stare into her eyes. “You. Are. The. Sexiest. Woman. I’ve. Ever. Seen.” I punctate each word, making it a sharp staccato so she doesn’t miss a syllable. “It’s not just your body, which is fucking sensational, puckering or rolls or whatever it is that you have. I’m here for it, and that’s no lie. But it’s more than that. It’s all of you. I like you exactly as you are. I wouldn’t change a thing. There shouldn’t be an ounce of doubt in your head about that. I don’t give a shit if you’re older than me or eat real food—because thank fuck for both of those. If my words don’t sell it, how hard I am for you should.”

I take off my shorts and climb off the table. I help her to do the same, and when her feet hit the floor, she grabs my cock and gives it a firm squeeze. I wheeze out a growl, her touch on me like fire in the best of ways. She starts pumping me, and I stare, mesmerized by the sight of her small hand working my big dick.

“You keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer.”

Her hand runs up my abs and chest, and she steps into me, pressing up on the balls of her feet so she can kiss me. The velvet slide of her lips and tongue against my own while she builds me up is almost euphoric.

“Enough.” I push her hand away, and she pouts. “Stop being so cute. I want to fuck you.”

“Fine. But only because that’s what I want too.”

“You’re getting very bossy.”

A playful gleam lights her face. “I’m older than you.”

“But I want you to be my little slut, so be a good girl and do as I tell you.”

My hands meet her hips, and I spin her around before I push her chest flat against the table. She shudders when her warm skin meets the cold table, and I kiss my way up her spine to her ear.

“Spread your legs for me, princess. Show me the wet cunt I just made come.”

Her lungs empty, and she bites into her lip. I suck it free from her teeth, but I don’t linger. My hands trickle down her body, over the sides of her breasts crushed against the table, and down to her hips, where I hold her steady. Crouching behind her, I just about lose my mind at the sight before me.

Her pussy is pink and swollen and so perfectly wet. I lick my lips, her smell and taste everywhere, and I can’t hold back from licking her. Just once. Just enough to make her moan and wiggle. Bouncing back up, I line my cock up with her opening and slide into her. Slowly this time. Last time I was too riled, too impatient, but this time I want to feel every inch of her.

Her hands shoot up over her head to grip the edge of the table. She holds on, already close. So am I. She feels unbelievable. Better than anything. I don’t know how I can do this with her for only a week. I won’t be able to give her up.

I’m already getting greedy.

My forehead meets her spine, and I blow out a breath as I slowly pull out and push back in. I do it again and again, maintaining the same agonizing pace. She’s growing impatient as she presses back, seeking more, wanting me to fill her faster and harder. I’m busy trying to burn everything about this into memory. Especially how my ring looks on her hand as she grips the table while she gets fucked by me.

“Mason, please,” she begs. “I need it. I need you. Make me feel it.”

My dick surges, thickening against her tight walls.

I smack her ass as I drive into her, loving the sounds she makes. Like relief and ecstasy mixed with yearning. Like it’s so good, everything she wants, but she still needs more. My arms snake under her shoulders, and I press down on her spine, giving her some of my weight but holding her in a way that protects her face from the wood of the table.

It’s perfect.

The angle is fucking perfect.

My hips ram into her, slapping into her ass and thighs with each roll of my body. The table moves, sliding along the floor and shaking with the power of how hard I’m giving it to her. A chair falls over and thwacks to the floor, followed by another.

“I want to break every room in this villa with you,” I breathe into her ear. “I want to sit you up on top of the bar, spread your legs, and eat your pretty pussy while you sip champagne. I want to bend you over the railing and fuck you so hard the entire Strip will see how good my cock feels inside of you.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. More,” she moans. “Don’t stop. Please, oh god, don’t stop.”

Stop? Who the fuck plans to stop?

“You make the prettiest noises, princess. I want everyone to hear them, and I’m happy to let others hear them too, but this body is mine and only mine. No one else can see it, and sure as hell, no one else gets it.”

I give it to her to prove that point. I give it all to her. Lost in the slippery feel of her pussy as it clenches and squeezes around my cock. I’m so deep in her like this. As deep as I can possibly go, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. It still feels like any second she’ll slip through my fingers, and I’ll lose her.

I’m on borrowed time as it is.

I cup the side of her face and lift it to angle her so my lips can capture hers. It’s messy and uncoordinated and I’m saying a million things into her mouth. Things like I can’t get enough and you’re so tight and you feel too good and I love fucking you and I want to feel you come all over my cock.

“Do it, Sorel. Do it now, baby. Make my cock fucking messy.”

Because I’m so close. So fucking close, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold off because I meant everything I said. She feels too good. She’s perfect for me.

“My girl. My wife.” They both slip out before I can stop them, and it’s too late. She hears me. Even when I don’t want her to.

“Fuck. Mason.”

I shake my head against her spine. Don’t do it, Sorel. Don’t ruin this.

I don’t give her the chance. I fuck her like a man losing his mind inside his woman.

She gasps as I work into her harder, swiveling my hips so I hit her front wall. She grinds against the table, rubbing her outside while I work her inside. Her using the table to help get herself off throws me over the edge. My balls tighten and my abs clench, and nothing I do will stop it. Thankfully she’s right there with me, coming with a loud cry and a harsh whimper. I give a few final thrusts, and with a roar, I still as she milks every throbbing drop out of me.

I collapse against her back and hold her for a beat, breathing so hard I might pass out before I force myself to stand and pull out of her. My cum drips down the inside of her thighs, and I swear, I’m fucking primal with that. I run my fingers through it with one hand as I use my other to help her up.

She giggles lightly and gives a playful roll of her eyes as she pushes my hand away.

“I need to get cleaned up. Again.”

I shake my head. “No point when I’m just going to make you messy again.” Before she can protest, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to her bed. Not planning on leaving it until she makes me. Already knowing that our time is coming to an end faster than I want it to.