Paul woke up curled around a woman, which was an oddity unto itself. He never took his lovers to bed with him, but in this case, he only had vague memories of the night before. The rush of skin on skin, the moans of his lover…and he’d pretended it was Liza.
Which wasn’t unusual. More often than not, he imagined it was her when he plunged into a woman’s willing body. Something about her always stayed with him—as if they were connected, even though he didn’t even know if he’d ever see her again.
His head throbbed, the very light piercing his eyes. Burrowing deeper into the woman’s soft hair, he decided there was a certain charm to waking with a lover. She was so soft, so warm, and her ass cheeks cupped his cock in such a pleasant way. If it weren’t for the hangover, he’d probably roll her onto her back and see if he could make less blurry memories he could keep for a while.
She smelled sweet, some musky blend of woman and sensuality which tickled his memory a bit. Hell, that was probably why he’d drunkenly imagined her to be Liza. She even smelled like the other woman did when she was a girl. As he fondled her breast, his partner released a soft moan, rubbing that rounded ass back against him and making him think maybe he could perform, hangover or not.
“Paul?” The whiskey-drenched whisper had him freezing, stunned. He hadn’t imagined Liza after all, the woman in his arms was his Liza.
As she rolled to face him, her hand reached up to stroke his face, and he captured her wrist.
The gold band around her ring finger glinted up at him like a curse.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “What did we do?”
She shook her head slightly, looking a bit bleary. Then again, if he remembered correctly, she’d been drinking as heavily as he had after the wedding ceremony that made them officially siblings. But that part after…the other ceremony…
“Did we get married?” he asked her.
The words froze Liza, and she furrowed her brows as if trying to remember. “I think I’m still drunk,” she mumbled. “But, no, we couldn’t have. We went to our parent’s ceremony, then we…” She drifted off, apparently noticing her finger. “I couldn’t have married my newly minted stepbrother.”
He caught her fingers, considering the ring. “I remember saying I wanted to keep you and that our parents weren’t going to keep us apart.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, rubbing her face with her free hand. “I remember going back to the chapel. I think we were going to talk them out of it? Which was crazy, because they were already married…”
“And there was some confusion about why we were there.” He remembered laughing, saying that they could show them. “We got married, Liza.”
She shook her head, sitting up abruptly then groaning and holding her hands over her ears. “My head is throbbing. Stop talking.”
Rolling his legs off the bed, he buried his face in his hands. He’d done it. He’d married Liza. But was the wedding even legal? It wasn’t like they were sober enough to make legal decisions. They didn’t have a license…did they need a license in Vegas?
None of that mattered at the second, though. A surge of protectiveness rose in his throat like bile. This was Liza, his Liza, and the least he could do was take care of her. Hell, if she felt half as wretched as he did, she would need some pain reliever and water. Dehydration caused the worst part of a hangover, if he remembered correctly. That and the fact the fermentation process in his blood stream lowered blood sugar levels.
Forcing himself onto his feet, he placed an order with room service before going to the bathroom. Once he’d found medicine and snagged a bottle of water, he returned to Liza’s side.
She was still seated in the middle of the bed. The sheet was pulled tightly to her chest, but it wasn’t like it hid much. The smooth slope of her back was enough to make his dick twitch, hungover or not. Flashes of memories from the night before twined with his old memories of her, reminding him of the way she looked with his cock in her mouth, with her legs spread above her head while he thrust into her, with her face upturned in the rain.
Liza was in all his best memories, and it seemed they’d added to the list—whether he remembered it exactly or not.
“Here, take these,” he offered, passing her the pills. She accepted them with a grateful look before also taking the water bottle he’d opened for her. “We probably have a few minutes before the food gets here, so—”
“I’m not hungry,” she grumbled. “I’m married, and whatever you ordered, it isn’t going to fix that.”
He smiled a little. His Liza was always grouchy in the morning, and it seemed the woman version of the girl he knew wasn’t altogether that different than he remembered. “As I was saying, while we wait, we should grab a shower.”
She blinked up at him, her gorgeous eyes seeming confused. “I don’t feel good. I’m not going to try to walk to the—oof!”
Scooping her into his arms, he took the whole warm bundle—woman, sheet, and shock—to the bathroom where he placed her gently on the sink top. “One second. Let me get the water running.”
“Paul, you can’t just—”
Before she could say another word, he stooped in to cover her mouth with his own. She didn’t move at first, which was okay. He teased kisses at the corners of her mouth, tracing his tongue across that sexy bottom lip of hers until she opened her mouth on a gasp. With one hand, he yanked the sheet away so he could see her body.
“Mine,” he growled, fierce in his need for her. He might have had her the night before, and maybe that’s why his desire was so damned insistent. He wanted to claim all that smooth white flesh, to mark it with his teeth until she recognized that the thing between them was timeless and unbreakable.
When he took her mouth again, she rose into his arms like silk, looping her arms around his neck until her nails scraped his scalp. Once she’d melted into him, he lifted her again. Her legs twined around his waist, bringing her sweet slit in contact with his already throbbing cock. He smiled against her mouth, and she pulled out of the kiss to look at him.
“When you smile, it usually means you’re about to do something particularly evil,” she commented.
Standing her in the shower, he said simply, “You doubted me.”
She shrugged, wrapping one arm around her middle protectively. “So?”
“It’s been a long time since we were together last, so maybe you don’t realize how much I value control.” He stroked a hand slowly down the slope of her face, continuing his leisurely exploration until his fingertips rested just above her nipple. “Do you trust me enough to let me be in charge, my Liza? Will you let me control you?”
Her lips curved. “You’re dominant, which I already knew,” she said. “You know I’ll let you, so why are you even asking?”
“You doubted me,” he reminded her. “Which means I need to punish you.”
The slow way her eyes widened proved she wasn’t sure she wanted whichever punishment he had in mind, but her breath continued to heave out. He was sure if he dipped his touch between her legs, he’d find her hot and wet for him. The mere thought of it had his own pulse pumping as he breathed in the scent of her.
“Do your worst,” she said. “It turns out I like being spanked, so if you thought you’d freak me out with that threat, you are confusing me with another woman.”
“I’d never confuse you with another woman, Liza. You’re the one I’ve carried with me. You’re part of me, and now you’re my wife.”
She snorted, but he simply reached beyond her to turn on the faucet. When the cold water poured down from the showerhead, Liza let out a little shriek. “It’s cold,” she complained.
“I never said I was going to spank you,” he told her. “I said I was going to punish you. Stand, take your punishment like a woman.”
Her chin popped up, even as she shivered. “I can take whatever you can deal out, Paul.”
“Master,” he corrected. “When we’re together, I’m your master.”
Instead of answering, she forced her hands to her sides and faced the icy water. He didn’t know about her, but it didn’t cool his ardor in the least. He did move out of the water, allowing his skin to warm to the ambient temperature of the room, while he gave her a few seconds under the cold blast.
The water would cool her flesh, making any touch of warmth a shock to her system. It would also help abate some of the hangover, allowing her to think clearly. Once she’d taken her punishment long enough to satisfy him, he considered the wrinkled peaks of her nipples with fascination. “Are you sorry you doubted me, little Liza?”
“Y-y-yes, master,” she said through chattering teeth.
“Do you want me to warm your flesh?” he asked slowly.
Her nod wasn’t enough of a response, so he waited until she ducked her head and said, “Yes, master.”
He bumped her away from the faucets, stepping into the flow of water before he turned the dials to make the water almost too hot. Then he reached for her. His mouth was hot on her chilled nipple, and she cried out in shock before clutching his head with her nails. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “you’re so warm.”
“Then climb me, lover. Get warm.” She obeyed, melting into him. Her flesh was so cold, so he focused on warming it as he pinned her to the wall of the shower.
“I feel…too much,” she pleaded, shuddering under his touch. “I’m so…”
“Aware,” he answered, plunging deep into her body with his own. She was even cool there, but so wet. He surged deeper, driving his heat into her cold body. Her claws ran down his back and across his shoulders, leaving her mark on his skin as he pushed into her again. Her entire body trembled against his, jerking thrusts as she tried to push as much of her skin against his as possible. In seconds, she was screaming out his name, legs twitching helplessly as he continued slow thrusts into her core.
“Call me master,” he ordered.
“Too much,” she whimpered, still twitching.
With his thumb, he thrummed against her clit, pleased when the little bud hardened under his touch. Capturing a bead of water that ran down her chest, he drank from her, suckling her nipple deep into his mouth as he continued to clean the water from her trembling flesh.
Once he released her breast with a pop, he looked up at her. Eyelashes spangled with drops of water, her mouth hung open as she panted. Tiny moans escaped her throat, groans, as if the pleasure was too much to fit in her curvy little body, so it was escaping as sound. “Is it too much?” he asked her.
“Faster,” she begged. “Faster, please, master.”
He obeyed, driving into her until she screamed out his name again. Only when her body pulsed around his in another orgasm did he let himself fly over the edge, splintering to shards as they both leaned on the wall of the shower.
They’d talk about the marriage later. Deal with the fact that they were quite possibly married—and stepsiblings.
For now, he had his Liza back. And he’d wanted nothing more than that for years.