Just to Have You (Blackwood & Friends #3)

Chapter Thirty-One

His dark chuckle brushed against every crevice of her ear and neck as his cock slid between her thighs, pressing against her tantalisingly. She was heady and wet yet from their previous session since he had clambered through her window, as per usual, the very night after he had proposed, and truly it felt as if they were unable to prevent themselves from touching the other. By dropping her robe the night before and crossing this very specific line that distinguished friend from lover, Amy had unwittingly opened a veritable untapped well of need and desire.

Thankfully, the weather had been pitiful enough to ensure a poor turnout at the festival earlier, and merriment was short-lived, resulting in people retiring earlier than normal or mostly seeking solace at the Lucky Apple. Throughout the duration Amy had lingered in the village square, Oliver had been plastered to her side, and when he thought no one was looking he slanted kisses over her mouth, drifted lazy fingers along her lower back... even once pushing her backwards and up against the cart that contained the tonics, stepping between her thighs, cupping her face and thrusting his tongue into her mouth with wild abandon.

"You could be with child well before then, my love," he pointed out.

"Ben, I cannot-" she made a sound of frustration and then twined her fingers with the ones toying with her nipple, holding them still against her. Amy half turned her body against him so that she could enforce a stern look to shadow her eyes, but the expression on his face... she loved him. He was so amused, so boyishly smug with a smile curling his wide lips, his verdant green eyes half-mast and homed in on her with an intensity that left her breathless... and the spectacles. Perhaps she ought to remove them, to make him less appealing and less destructive to her sensibilities. "A child," she murmured.

"That is how these things go... though that is not my confession, though I must confess, I am hoping it would hasten your decision slightly. But you must know, I would accept anything you decree, my queen."

"You need an heir, Ben," she murmured, tracking the movement of his fingers. His thumb and forefinger were rolling her tautened pebble of a nipple teasingly, slowly, with mesmerizing motions that were hard to keep track of. Her breast seemed to sensitize the area to his touch, a heaviness settling against the weight of his palm against her flesh.

"My father needs an heir, and he has me. I need you."

"Then where does your concern lie? If I am carrying your child-"

"Our child," he corrected thrusting into her thighs for emphasis, latching onto her throat so that she arched back against him. Dear Lord, she only need lift her leg-

"You assume an old maid-"

"Tsk." He swept his hand down, over the swell of over belly, then curled his fingers into her thighs the same time he tilted his chin further into her shoulder, angling his head for a better view.

A groan so visceral, so utterly needy, reverberated from his chest against the arch of her spine, the sound served to coiled her tight, almost unhinging her entirely at his own clear desire. "Ben," it was a pitiful sound, a desperate sound that he knew well enough by now. She needed him again; she needed him to fill her, which he was teasing at... circling the head of his cock along her entrance and then swiping deep, but up, pressing and parting her folds, wet and hot and exquisite.

"God help me," he growled, his hand sweeping up to grip her hip, clamping it tight to still the undulating movements she was unconsciously inflicting on them both, so that she was pressed frozen against him. "Give me your attention."

"Give me your cock."

He seethed in a breath, grinding against her once for emphasis so that his cock slid so very invitingly between her folds, but he lingered only lightly, teasing and playful and not at all fulfilling, and she knew that she would have to acquiesce to attain it. "I have a wager, Griff," he admitted through gritted teeth.