He kissed my neck. "Let me make you come. Please, Gwen."

  With a whispered, “Yes,” I parted my thighs, shifting slightly so I was on my back to give him more room.

  Into my neck, he whispered, "Fuck, yes,” as he slid his fingers down below the elastic of my shorts and my panties. Then he groaned again.

  And I moaned, the sound turning into a gasp when he did a full swipe of my slit.

  He kissed my neck and palmed my breast again. "Fuck baby. You're so fucking wet. I'm going to make you come so hard."

  Then he bit my neck, and his finger slid all the way inside of me.

  I tried to keep my hips still, but I couldn't. They started to rock. "Please, Atticus, please more. I-I need more."

  He bit my neck again, but this time he sucked the skin between his teeth and then soothed the bite with his tongue.

  I couldn't do anything except moan his name.

  He added a second finger inside me, and I tried to hold still, but again my hips started to move.

  "Pretty, pretty baby," he said as he scissored his fingers. "I'm going to make you come again, over and over."

  And I moaned again.

  He kept up the steady rhythm, and he kept sucking my skin into his mouth. He kissed down my shoulder, and he was sucking and licking and nipping at my skin. One of his hands was pinching my nipple, and then he shifted his fingers inside of me again.

  "I want you, Gwen. I want to make you come on my fingers and my cock. I want to slide deep inside of you and fuck you so hard that we wake the neighbors."

  "Oh, please, Atticus, please..."

  "I want to slide inside of you and feel your pussy clench around me. I want to fuck you so hard that you scream my name."

  And with that, I pressed my thighs together on his hand, arching my back as I cried out.

  I rocked my hips, but he kept his fingers moving steadily as he kept sucking and licking and biting my neck. And his fingers were rubbing against my clit, and I was rocking and panting and clenching. I was so close.

  "Please, please..."

  He bit my neck again. "I want you to come so hard for me now and then come again when I fuck you."

  With that, I clenched around his fingers and screamed his name. And I heard him whisper, "Good girl."

  He slowed his fingers, and I felt completely empty when he finally removed them. And then his lips were at my ear. "Do you want me to put my cock inside of you?"

  I could barely make myself nod.

  "Will you let me fuck you?"

  I nodded again, and he kissed me softly on my neck. "I want to fuck you hard, baby. I want to make you feel good, and then I want to make you feel like you're losing your mind. And I want to watch you come again, and I want to come with you."

  I felt him shifting his hips away from me, and I turned my head slightly to watch him.

  He was hard, and he was long, and he was making me wetter just by looking at him. He was edging toward me, and then his hand was between my legs, touching me again.

  "Please, Atticus. I need you. Please."

  He nudged my legs wider, and I opened for him.

  He pushed his cock inside of me, making me moan. He was big, and I was sore, but he entered me gently, and I was so wet. When he started to thrust, I clenched around him.

  He muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," over and over as he thrust harder, and I pushed back against him. And when he reached down to rub my clit, I quivered around him.

  "Yes, oh my God, yes, Atticus!" I moaned his name, and I was watching his face as he pulled out and pushed in again and again.

  I lost myself to the feeling of his cock sliding in and out, and of his hand on my clit, and to the feeling of him inside of me. Then my body started to tighten, and I felt the sensation of my orgasm start to crest.

  "Atticus, yes, yes, yes, please…" I was moaning and pleading and arching my back, and his hand was still on my clit.

  "Oh fuck, baby, yes. Fuck, yes."

  As my orgasm crested, he bit my neck. It felt like I was spinning, and the only thing I could do was hold on.

  I felt Atticus's cock jerk inside of me, and his teeth pulled at my skin as he pulsed, jetting his cum inside me.

  As he relaxed and adjusted our position so that we were laying on our sides, his cock still inside me, he whispered, "Christ, Gwen. You will be the death of me."

  "Same."

  Chapter 26

  Gwen

  I reluctantly left Atticus in bed to meet my sister and stepmother for breakfast.

  "Give the birthday girl whatever she wants," my stepmother said to the waiter as Morgan excused herself to go to the powder room.

  I laughed and shook my head. "Don't let her ply me with liquor. I'll have the eggs benedict with a side of the sweet pancakes."

  He nodded. "We can do that."

  "You don't have to feed me like this, Clarissa." I wasn’t used to being doted on.

  Clarissa shook her head. "I could have made you breakfast at the house, but something told me you didn't want to celebrate with your father."

  I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about him."

  Clarissa sighed. "I'm so sorry, honey. I wish I could explain the man or make some kind of excuse for him, but what he's done to you is just fucked up, completely wrong, and I'm sorry."

  "It's fine. I just…” I sighed. “Every time I think that he's going to be a different kind of father, a different kind of person, I get disappointed. That's okay. I should learn to stop hoping."

  "Oh, honey. I don't want you to stop hoping. Your father is just a dick sometimes."

  "Then why are you still married to him?"

  She shrugged. "Well, I'm sort of obligated to keep loving him. I know it's messy, but I do. And well, mostly I love you girls. so there's not much I can do except sort of endure him."

  "Clarissa, you could do better. You could have someone who loves you back."

  "Your father loves in his own way. He's just used to being selfish."

  "Can we not talk about him today,” I said. “I’m just tired of him, and if we're going to celebrate my birthday, I want to do it in a fun way."

  Clarissa nodded. "Fun coming right up. About your wedding, please let us help plan. Have you picked a wedding date?"

  I laughed. "I love how quickly you can adjust."

  Morgan came back from the bathroom. "What did I miss?"

  Clarissa said, "I was just asking your sister when she's getting married."

  Morgan groaned. "Are we still doing this? I thought you, of all people, would have found an answer, a way out."

  "I don't think so. Especially now that I know he’s helping me meet payroll for the next few weeks. I have employees to take care of, you know. Anyway, thank you for the cake on my birthday."

  Morgan grinned. "The gummy bears. I know that made you happy."

  I'd eaten a slice of it this morning for energy. Instead of tea, I'd chosen sugar. What? Don't judge me. I’d wrapped it up to take home before we left the office, and then he'd put it in the fridge for me when we got home from his mother’s. Which was sweet.

  "So, how is it going with Atticus anyway?” Morgan asked. “Is he the evil and brooding super genius that he seems to be publicly?"

  I put my hand up. "We're not going to talk about it. Now where are we going shopping?"

  Morgan took that opportunity to tell me about some boutique she wanted to explore, and Clarissa was saying how she needed a new coat. I knew that shopping together would make them happy, and I would try my best not to stare at my phone all day because all they wanted to do was spend time with me. Which was great. And as I watched my sister, I was happy that she was happy. I knew this whole situation just stressed her out.

  Then I started to wonder… Would Atticus have fingered Morgan like that if the roles were reversed?

  I coughed as I took a sip of water. Both my stepmother and sister turned to look at me, and I gave them a quick smile. "Sorry, wrong pipe."

  "Oh!" Clarissa waved down the waiter for more napkins, and I dabbed up as much of the spill as I could.

  When I looked up, my scalp prickled, and I started looking around. I knew only one person made me feel like that, and I whipped around, my breath catching when I saw Atticus standing at the door.

  "What the heck is he doing here?" I mumbled.

  Both Clarissa and Morgan glanced over where I was looking. Morgan whistled low. "Jesus, fucking hell. Is that what he looks like out of a suit?"

  He was wearing a lightweight sweater over dark jeans. His hair was tousled, and I could see now that the curl he had in the mornings was natural. He looked far less coifed. And he sported some stubble on that stupidly square jaw, complete with a dimple on his chin and everything.

  He glanced around the restaurant and then flashed a wide, wicked grin when he saw me. Clarissa coughed this time. "Jesus Christ, is that what his smile looks like?"

  I sighed as my pussy fluttered. I was well acquainted with the effect that smile had on the populous. "Yeah, that's what it looks like."

  My stepmother tittered. "Well, goddamn. No wonder you're not ready to get out of this whole deal."

  I turned to frown at her. "Yes, I am. I just know that there isn't a way out."

  "Honey, I don't blame you. Look at the man."

  When he approached, he kept his smile in place. And wonder of wonders, it almost actually reached his eyes.

  He greeted my stepmother first with a kiss on her cheek. "Clarissa, looking beautiful and radiant as always." When he went to Morgan, I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until he leaned over and gave her a tight side hug. No plastering his body to hers, no kissing her cheek. "Good morning, Morgan."

  "Good morning, Mr. Price."

  He winced. "Please, God, call me Atticus."

  "Sure, Atticus." And then Morgan's gaze jumped from him to me, and back to him again. Atticus stood next to me, and his massive hand landed on my shoulder and then traced up my neck before cupping my face.

  The flutter of butterflies tugged at my belly. I wished he would stop. When he was sweet, it was hard not to fall for it.

  I had no choice but to look up at him. Then he leaned over and placed a very soft kiss on my lips. Honestly, who needed to breathe? Breathing was overrated. Because if you could hold your breath, the scent of heaven wouldn't tempt you.

  Except my traitorous lungs didn't get the memo because they inhaled. And then I swooned. He deepened the kiss ever so slightly for a moment and then pulled back, grinning down at me. "My beautiful fiancée left without me this morning."

  I gave him a tight smile as he sat, just inviting himself to join us. "I thought you had to work."

  "Nope. Decided against it. I'm joining you for breakfast. Honestly, I wished you'd told me your plans. I would have loved to have your mother and sister up to the penthouse and let Magda cook."

  Clarissa's eyes went wide. "You have a full-time chef?"

  He nodded. "Yes. You know your daughter though. She will never take me up on it."

  She sighed. "Yeah, well, Gwen is highly independent."

  I bit the inside of my cheek. "Yes, I am."

  Atticus leaned over to me and sniffed. "You smell delicious."

  My stepmother and Morgan busied themselves chatting about where we were going shopping today.

  "I'm not wearing any perfume,” I said.

  "That's not what I meant and you know it. You smell and taste good to me."

  A shiver racked my spine. "You can't talk to me like that here."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we're in public, Atticus, and that's inappropriate."

  His chuckle was low and smooth, and it felt like chocolate melting over my tongue.

  "God, I'm just minding my business and trying to have a girls’ day out,” I mumbled.

  "Yes, and I like your business. It's sexy. And your ass is a thing of beauty."

  "Jesus Christ, Atticus, would you stop?"

  "I haven't said anything inappropriate. I'm just talking about how delicious my wife is."

  "I'm not your wife yet."

  "You keep trying to remind me of that. I think one thing we should talk about is how to make the word wife a reality."

  "I-I don't know. Let's not talk about that right now."

  "Yeah, of course. But when we get home, we probably should talk about it before I lay you out on the bed and make you come again." A flush crept up my neck, and he grinned. "God, I love when you go just a little bit pink."

  I smiled at him as the waiter delivered our food and took his drink order. "You can't tell that I'm going pink."

  "Oh, I can tell. I've been paying attention. And God, I love to watch it. I'd rather see it naked, because then I know exactly where you turn pink."

  God, the man was a menace. I sat clenching my thighs together through breakfast while he proceeded to spend the next hour and a half chatting with my stepmother and my sister. After breakfast, which was delicious as expected, and after he asked the staff to bring me a birthday dessert, which was breakfast crème brûlée, he insisted he was joining us on the first part of our shopping trip. I was wired, tight and tense, wondering what all the attention was about.

  As we exited the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around me, casually walking next to me as if he belonged there. I was wearing a simple sundress with sneakers. Converse. I looked cute and fun as he towered over me.

  Out on the sidewalk, as Morgan and Clarissa argued about which way to go first, he leaned down and kissed my temple. "See, I'm not so bad."

  Then I heard a low voice behind us. "Oh look, the happy couple."

  Fuck, why could nothing go well? We turned slowly to find Bronson behind us. His gaze swept over me, and all I wanted was a shower.

  Atticus gave him a brusque nod. “Looks like everyone had the same idea for breakfast. If you don't mind, I'm in the process of spoiling her for her birthday.”

  Bronson lifted a brow. “So you two are genuinely attempting to pass this off as the real deal, then?”

  My stomach twisted, but Atticus just held me tight and said, “Jacobson, I'm starting to get the idea that you're not happy for us. Why is that?”

  I lifted my chin and met his gaze. He couldn't make me cower, and he couldn't make me run. What happened between us was a long time ago, and I was stronger now.

  “No reason. You're not usually one to pick up scraps, Price, but hey, you do you.”

  I could feel the tension in Atticus's body, but he held it together. “I see you have a death wish.”

  Bronson's eyes went wide as if he hadn't expected Atticus to take that stance. “Wh-what?”

  “You heard me. Gwen is my fiancée. See the ring on her finger? She's going to be my wife. And if you ever speak to her with anything other than the utmost respect again, you'll be missing your tongue.”

  Then he turned the two of us around to follow my sister and Clarissa as if nothing had happened. “You didn't have to do that,” I muttered.

  “Yes, I did. Are you going to tell me what the deal is with you two?”

  What could I say? There was no way I was telling him the whole thing. It was too humiliating. Besides, I’d moved on.

  Liar.

  “We had one date. Not a big deal. I decided once was enough when I found out he was a major asshole. He obviously didn’t take it well.”

  His gaze searched mine as if he knew that I was leaving something vital out. But he didn't press. Instead, he placed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Come on, I think I owe you presents, don't I?”

  He might have been calm and relaxed, but something told me that it wasn't over with Bronson Jacobson. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter 27

  Gwen

  The following morning, my sister turned up at the penthouse.

  I was so confused when Manny buzzed up and told me someone was there to see me. I would have assumed Lance, but I had already texted him that I'd meet him at the park later after lunch for a run and a strategizing session. I had some plans for how to move team members around so they'd fit more seamlessly into Pendragon Tech. When I met her in the foyer, Morgan whistled low.

  "Holy shitballs. I know I said I'd come by earlier this week, but there would have been no point as you were in the office. But had I known this place was so spectacular, I’d have invented a reason."

  Morgan kicked off her shoes in the foyer, and I shook my head. "You want something to eat? A drink?"

  I led her to the living room, and she froze, staring at the view of Central Park. "Holy shit, Gwen. Can I marry the view?"

  "I'm glad you love it. As far as I can tell, no one else really seems to care here. Not Micah. Not Atticus. Sometimes I bring my laptop in here just so I can look."

  "That's it, I'm moving in. Where's my room?"

  "There are many to choose from. But I thought you loved your freedom and being downtown."

  “I could learn to be an uptown girl.”

  "You love the West Village. Stop lying."

  "Okay, you're right. But I shall be making a pointed effort to come up here more often."

  I finally tugged her to the kitchen and found Magda packing some containers. Rice and chicken, pasta, the shrimp dish from the other day. "Hey, Magda, what are you doing?"

  She smiled at my sister. "Hello, Miss, would you like some lunch?"

  Morgan, ever the ham, grinned and then did a little twirl. "Are you offering me brunch? I'm in love with you."

  Magda laughed. "I like you already. I'll feed you any time. There's some French toast here. I can warm it up."

  Morgan just gave me the Holy shit! French toast face, and I laughed. "Magda, you don't have to cater to my sister."

  She waved me off. "You won't let me cater to you, so I'm going to spoil her." She finished closing up what looked like leftovers.

  "Taking some leftovers, huh?"

  She shook her head. "No. Mr. Price wanted me to make sure I pack you lunches."

  I frowned. "He what?"

  "Don't worry, I mostly repurposed some of the dishes we had earlier. The shrimp from yesterday, you'll have tomorrow, since it’s the freshest. And then I made you a few quick things. Some pastas and the zucchini that you liked the other day."