Page 41 of Guarding Rory
“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered as he slowly slid in, our groans matching at the feeling. “Need to feel you come around my cock.”
“More,” I begged, tears springing to the corners of my eyes at the slow torture Dev exerted on me. His cock was teasing, sliding in a slow inch at a time before retreating, never hitting where I needed. His thumb made slow, soft circles, nowhere near the pressure I needed, and the two orgasms I’d already had somehow made me desperate for more, made the slow build in my stomach feel urgent instead of overwhelming.
“I’ll give you whatever you need, baby,” he growled before slamming into me, my body jerking from the force of it, Dev’s free hand grabbing my hip to anchor me closer to him.
His mouth ate up my cries, the tension in my body ratcheting higher as Dev fucked me. He hitched my leg around his waist, opening me wider as he bottomed out, pelvis rubbing against my clit on each thrust.
I was so close, hovering on the precipice of an orgasm I knew would wreck me, make me boneless and exhausted while also guaranteeing I’d be ruined for any man but Dev, whose eyes grew dark with satisfaction as he wrung orgasms from my body.
“It’s too much,” I sobbed, my nails digging into the tight muscles of his back as my orgasm built.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he told me as he slowed his thrusts, tilting his hips so he could fuck me deeper, his thumb pressing harder against my clit. “Just one more. I need to feel you come one more time. Have to see it.”
His voice sounded almost desperate for it, his eyes matching his voice. I came again without warning, crying out Dev’s name as the orgasm pulled me under, a tidal wave of pleasure that made my whole body tremble. I could barely see Dev’s satisfied smile over the black dots in my vision, my body overwhelmed with so much pleasure after going so long without.
Dev followed me soon after, his body tight against mine as his thrusts picked back up, his hips snapping against mine in a quick rhythm that dragged my orgasm out. And when he came, whispering my name against my throat, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could be married to this man before he broke my heart completely.
Chapter 20
Rory
I woke up spiraling,anxiety tight in my chest alongside the post-orgasm glow, the two competing for dominance as my breathing picked up. Dev’s side of the bed was empty, allowing me some privacy to process the panic that was slowly taking over my brain.
The events from the last twenty-four hours flickered through my mind in quick succession. A montage of Dev’s fingers teasing between my legs in the gym, the two of us saying our vows in front of a bunch of mobsters, Dev promising to give me what I needed as he fucked me.
But it wasn’t just what happened that had me spiraling. It was how I felt about it all. How I felt about Dev, the depth of the care I felt toward the man who had saved my life, took me in, married me. The walls I’d built for weeks had come crumbling down the moment he kissed me, and the rest of me had fallen shortly after, sometime between our first dance and the sound of my name on his lips as he came.
I felt like I was in one of the romance novels I edited, the ones where marriages of convenience were organized by fate itself rather than enemies of your father trying to take you out. The ones where both sides of the couple were already halfway in lovebefore they hatched the plan to get married. The ones where the couple finally realized how they felt about each other when they were forced into the same room after an inadvertent kiss. After they slept together for the first time and their souls aligned, telling them the other person was just as madly in love as them. As if a man’s dick could convey the love he had for you.
But those were books. Those were characters who didn’t have responsibilities and reality bearing down on them, reminders that their lives and the lives of their friends depended on their marriage working out.
I didn’t need Dev to love me. I needed him to be willing to protect me. I needed safety more than I needed happiness. And I refused to put the truce between our families at risk for something as trivial as my heart. Even if the thought had my anxiety winning the war in my chest, it was the truth.
The door opened, Dev interrupting my mounting panic with a grin as he crossed the room with a mug in hand. His smile faltered as he saw my face, undoubtedly reading the emotions painted across my features, before he gripped my chin between the thumb and pointer finger of his free hand, pressing a kiss against my mouth.
It was a slow, burning kiss, his tongue darting out to tease at the seam of my lips. I opened at his silent demand, too consumed by his kiss to worry that I hadn’t brushed my teeth or that my hair likely looked like a rat’s nest after the thorough fucking the night before. All I cared about were Dev’s lips, his tongue sliding along mine, the feeling of his morning stubble scraping against the soft skin of my face.
“Good morning, meri jaan,” he whispered against my lips when we finally pulled apart, pressing another quick, chaste kiss to my lips once, twice.
“Good morning,” I whispered back, my lips brushing his as I formed the words.
He slipped the warm mug between my fingers while my focus remained on his mouth, the familiar smell of the chai easing more of my anxiety stuck in my chest. Dev stepped back, eyes darkening when he took me in.
“You look good roughed up, Red.” His thumb reached out to rub against the raw skin his stubble had scraped against.
A shiver raced down my spine at the rough edge in his voice, Dev’s eyes tracking the movement. He leaned closer, eyes darker than before, his hand curling into the hair hanging in a tangle down my back. But then he took a sudden step back, his eyes returning to their usual warm brown as he cleared his throat before speaking.
“I wanted to give you something.” He held up his hand, fingers curled into his palm in a fist. Then he loosened his grip, a gold chain unfurling from where it had been clenched in his hand.
The necklace swung from between Dev’s fingers, two diamonds sparkling in the light streaming in from the wall of windows. A princess cut diamond was nestled against a pear cut, both diamonds as large as the emerald Dev had slipped onto my hand the morning before. A round disk the size of a quarter hung from the clasp, our names and wedding date etched into the metal.
I still hadn’t formed any words as Dev moved behind me, brushing my hair over my shoulder so he could hook the necklace around my neck. The diamonds fell just under the hollow of my throat, the gems cold against my skin. The only other adornments on the chain were two black beads on either side of the diamonds, which rested against my collarbones.
Dev’s fingers ran over the beads, eyes mirthful as he told me, “Tradition says that wearing it gives your husband a long life.”
“What is it?” I asked, the significance of the necklace clear in the reverent way he placed it around my neck.
“A mangalsutra. It’s essentially an Indian version of a wedding ring, a symbol that you’re married. Traditionally it’s tied onto the wife during the wedding ceremony, but I had to put a couple finishing touches on it so it wasn’t ready until this morning.”
