Page 144 of The Auction
“I’m—oh—” she gasps, voice breaking. “I’m coming again?—”
“So am I.”
I hook my arms under hers, locking my grip on her shoulders and pulling her down as I thrust up hard, meeting her stroke for stroke until we shatter together. Her body clamps down around me, and I let go, groaning against her mouth as the world narrows to the heat, the squeeze, and the way she says my name like a prayer I’ll never stop answering.
We stay locked together, kissing, rubbing, moving slow. Every brush of skin makes us both shudder—too sensitive, too raw, too full of each other to stop.
“I love you,” she whispers against my mouth.
“I love you too, Cricket.” My voice is rough, but it’s the truth in its purest form. “I went fucking crazy when I thought you were gone. I haven’t rested a second since you left my sight in New York.”
Her hands slide up my neck, her eyes shining. “I’m here now.”
Eventually, our breathing evens out, and she glances toward the door with a smirk. “How exactly am I supposed to walk out of a church in just panties and heels?”
I chuckle against her neck, nodding past her shoulder. “I brought you some clothes.”
We finally separate, and I grab the torn wedding dress from the floor. I wipe myself off, then I stare between her legs, watching my cum run down her creamy thighs.
My smirk pure sin. “I want to push that cum back inside and fuck my baby into you.”
“Oh, my god.” She shakes her head at me but smiles as I lick up the column of her throat and wipe between her legs with the dress. “You just came twice.”
“And I could come again.”
She pulls out jeans and a soft T-shirt from the bag, slipping them on while I tuck myself back in and gather her discarded “bride” costume, dumping it in a bin near a side exit.
When she’s dressed, I pull her in, sliding my hands into the back pockets of her jeans as we sway together in the quiet, just looking at each other. No barriers. No chains. Just us.
“You ready to go home?” I ask.
She nods.
“I need to tell you about your mom.”
Her eyes widen instantly, and I hurry to get the words out. “She had a little fall, but I took care of her. Shanae’s with her—she’s okay. That’s why it took me a little longer to get to you, baby, but she’s fine.”
Her eyes water, and she breathes out a shaky, “Thank you… for taking care of her.”
I brush her hair out of her face and give her a soft smile. “She’s got some good news for you.”
Her chin trembles. “Is it… about her cancer?”
I grin now, teasing, because I know what she doesn’t. “You won’t tell me the secret ingredient… so I’m not telling you.”
“Sugar,” she blurts out. “It’s a pinch of sugar.”
I blink. “Seriously?!”
“Yes. Now tell me.” Her eyes are desperate, her hands curling into my shirt.
My throat gets tight before I can say it. “She beat it, baby. She’s in remission.”
Cassidy gasps, her mouth falling open as tears spill down her cheeks. I feel my own vision blur. “She’s going to be okay.”
She laughs and cries at the same time, cupping my face and kissing me before wrapping her arms tight around my neck. I hold her like I’ll never let go.
“Let’s go,” I murmur against her hair. “I want to take you home. I fucking hate London now.”
