Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“Please!”
“Soon.”
Dash kept moving forward until he was seated fully inside Thorne. He held Thorne’s hips and rocked, pulling back only the slightest bit. Thorne finally gave in, rocking his hips with Dash’s movement.
Dash slapped his ass hard, and he cried out.
“Not yet.”
“Fuck! Dash!”
Dash pulled out all the way and waited. Thorne dropped his head back down and stopped moving, even though at this point fucking the air felt better than staying still.
Dash teased him again.
Don’t move. Don’t fucking move. Sweat dripped from Thorne’s face.
Dash drove in all the way in one harsh stroke. Thorne gasped and dropped down to his elbows.
“Okay,” Dash said, voice low and sultry.
“O-okay what?”
“You can move.”
Thorne pushed back so hard he almost unseated Dash.
Dash grabbed his hips again so he could attempt to control the movement, but they were both so hungry they couldn’t keep to a steady rhythm. They were wild and crazed and desperate. It seemed like Dash forgot his plans to torment Thorne and was lost to everything but bringing them off.
“Dash, oh God, Dash, please!”
He knew what Thorne needed. He reached under Thorne and took his cock in his hand, stroking roughly. Thorne cried out and came seconds later, slipping until his face was pressed into the pillow he’d been holding.
“Fucking amazing, Thorne. You’re so fucking amazing.” Dash thrust against him a few more times and then found his own release.
Afterward they lay sweaty and spent for several long moments, holding each other. Then Dash slipped from the bed and returned with a fucking florist brochure. So he was back to reality as Riley, and Thorne wasn’t going to get any more delicious dominance from him until they talked about fucking flowers.
Thorne tried to give his best incredulous look, but he was too blissed out to really care. “You’re truly relentless, aren’t you?”
“Just holding you to your promise.”
Thorne groaned.
Riley opened the booklet and showed Thorne a few bouquets that he had to admit were exactly what he would choose if forced to, which apparently he was. Riley was probably smart to catch him before he’d come down from the high of orgasm.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Riley said.
Thorne flung a hand over his face. “What now?”
“I’d like you to talk to Darius and see if he has some advice on our tuxes. I want—”
“I know—traditional with maybe an ascot or something fancy.”
Riley sighed.
Thorne opened his eyes. “Sorry, tell me.”
“No, you’re right, just ask him. He’ll know what will look good. Can you do that this week?”
Thorne nodded. “Yes, and if you make me come really hard before each thing you need to ask me, I think this will go a lot better.”
Riley laughed. “I don’t think we’d actually get much planning done.”
“Would it really matter? You’d probably feel so good you wouldn’t care.”
Riley ran a hand through Thorne’s hair, pushing it off his forehead. “Thorne, is this really too much for you? I know you—”
He laid a finger over Riley’s lips. “It’s fine. Really. It’s a few months of chaos to do something really important to you.”
In that moment, Thorne meant it. Seeing Riley happy was what mattered. He was being an asshole about it. So he had a few extra decisions to make. Some weeks were like that. Some months. Some— How long until the third week of December?
CHAPTER SIX
Riley and Susan signed a contract with the designer after their in-person interview. Then they worked in the commercial kitchen space they were renting until the renovations were done, preparing canapés and sweets for a birthday party they were catering. When the last batch of chocolate-mint cupcakes had been iced, Riley cleaned up while Susan packed all the food in boxes.
“You ready to go?” Riley asked.
“I think so.” Susan started to flip the light switch and then stopped. “Oh. I can’t believe I forgot.”
“What?” Riley was too exhausted to cook anymore.
“I want to do the pastries for your wedding.”
“Sus—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I know you said you’d hire a caterer, and that makes sense for the heavier items, but I want this to be my gift to you. I’m not going to buy you something for your house that you’ll likely never use. If Thorne wants dishes or fruit bowls or gravy boats, he can buy them. Baking for you is personal, and it’s what I’m going to do.”
“But I want you to enjoy the wedding.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. Baking for you won’t stop me from enjoying your wedding. I won’t insist on displaying or serving. I’ll just make pastries and deliver them the day before.”
Riley realized there was no point in arguing. When Susan wanted to, she could be as stubborn as Thorne. “Do we get samples ahead of time?”
She laughed. “So you’re warming to the idea, huh?”
“Yes.” Riley pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you.” Tears stung the back of his eyes. “Your friendship is so important to me.”