Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

T he resort we chose in Maui was pure paradise—an all-inclusive haven where every sunset promised romance. On our first night, we’d indulged in expensive champagne on the lanai, laughter mingling with the sound of waves crashing against the shore. Now, as night fell again, Slade pulled me along the beach, his excitement palpable.

Without warning, he dragged me into the warm, shimmering water, my short summer dress quickly soaked through.

“I’m wet!” I protested, laughter bubbling up despite my feigned annoyance.

“This is not the kind of wet I want,” he replied, his grin wicked as he flashed a playful look.

“Pig,” I teased, my cheeks warming. “We just had sex two hours ago.”

“Morgan, I can’t get enough of you. I still can’t believe you’re mine.” His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, genuine awe softening his features.

I rolled my eyes, splashing him lightly. “I’ve been yours for a while now. You act like we met, got married, and are on our honeymoon all in the span of a few days.”

“It sounds silly,” he admitted, “but I need to pinch myself. I thought this would never happen.”

“Did you think I would back out?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

His voice faltered slightly. “No... maybe.”

“Why would you think that? I love you.” I searched his face, the moon casting silver shadows that highlighted the uncertainty in his eyes.

“It makes no sense. Do you know how many times I wanted to ask you out?”

“That’s all in the past,” I said firmly, holding up my hand, the diamond wedding set glinting on my ring finger. “I’m your wife now, and I have the hardware to prove it.”

“I know, but it’s still hard to believe.”

“Take me back to our villa,” I commanded, my heart racing with desire.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I’m not mad. I want you to make love to me.” I stepped closer, my voice low and sultry.

He flashed a wicked grin. “Why not on the beach?”

“Because we’re both wet, and the last thing I want is sand in a sensitive spot,” I shot back, my heart pounding with both frustration and exhilaration.

“Hmm, I have to agree.” He scooped me up, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried me toward our villa.

As soon as we burst through the door, our dripping clothes became a tangled heap on the floor. Slade pressed me against the door, his body a powerful anchor as he took me with a hunger that ignited every nerve ending. My face pressed against the cool wood, memories of Michael flickered through my mind, unwanted but persistent. Just as I tried to push them away, Slade sank his teeth into my shoulder.

“Oww! Why did you do that?” I gasped, startled.

“I’m marking my territory,” he growled into my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

“You don’t need to mark me,” I protested, breathless.

He flattened his palm against my back, thrusting harder, urgency building. “Come, Morgan. Come before I do.”

“Not yet. Make this last,” I begged, desperate to prolong the pleasure.

“I can’t hold it!” he groaned, his body tightening.

In a frantic attempt to keep pace, I reached down to rub my clit, but it was too late. He grunted as he filled me, a mix of relief and frustration in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, sagging against my back.

“It’s fine,” I murmured, breathless.

“It’s not fine,” he replied, his voice thick with regret. “You should always come first. I promise to make it up to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re more than generous in bed,” I said, turning to face him, wanting to see the sincerity in his eyes.

“I never want to become that guy.”

“I have doubts you ever would,” I reassured him, my fingers finding their way to his strong arms.

He pulled out slowly, his gaze intense as he turned me around, lowering his hand to my cleft. Slade slid his fingers through my folds, slicking them with our juices before expertly circling my clit.

I gripped his biceps, my eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built. I moaned his name, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I climaxed.

“See? It’s not so bad that I don’t come first,” he teased, a victorious smile on his lips.

“But it still should be that way. I want to make all your dreams come true.”

“You already do,” I said, feeling warmth spread through my chest. “I’m looking forward to a long and happy marriage.”

“Me too,” he said, and in that moment, I knew that despite the shadows of the past, we were building something beautiful together.

Our lives took an unexpected turn a month after our honeymoon. Keaton had a minor heart attack and decided it was time to step down from Abbott and Associates. In the whirlwind that followed, Slade assumed the role of CEO by the end of October. I had expected to take over as vice president, but instead, he handed that position to another manager—a man. The slight stung more than I anticipated.

“Morgan?” Slade’s voice broke through my concentration, and I didn’t bother looking up from my notes.

“What?” I replied, keeping my eyes on the page.

He closed the door to my small office with a soft click and settled into one of the upholstered black chairs in front of my desk. “What’s the problem now?” He leaned forward, concern etched on his face.

“I’m busy. I don’t have time to discuss it until dinner,” I said, avoiding his gaze.

He sighed, crossing his arms. “I might be late, so tell me now.”

I finally set down my pen and met his gaze, a spark of irritation flaring. “You don’t know?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I have a suspicion. You thought I would give you the vice presidency?”

“I fucking deserve it,” I shot back, my frustration spilling out.

“Just because your last name is Abbott doesn’t mean you deserve it,” he countered, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“Who gives a fuck about my name? I’m talking about my experience. Did you turn into your father overnight?” I challenged, my heart racing.

Slade’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He leaned closer, the tension thickening.

“It means it’s the same old boys’ club bullshit,” I snapped.

He let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “You think I didn’t give you the position because you’re a woman?”

“Isn’t that the reason?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.

“No, it’s not. I didn’t give you the position because I don’t want you traveling. I don’t want to live separate lives. Allan Sherman is single and knowledgeable. He can do the job.”

I blinked, incredulous. “So, you didn’t give me the position for your own selfish reasons?”

“Call it what you want, but yes. I don’t want you away from me,” he said, his voice firm but laced with vulnerability.

“But you travel. That’s ridiculous.” I struggled to keep my composure.

“It’s not. I’m not planning to travel all that much. Allan can handle negotiations with me on conference call.”

“Asshole,” I muttered, exasperated.

“Damn right. Fault me if you want, but I hate being away from you.” He softened, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of understanding.

I felt defeated, yet he had a point. The last thing I wanted was to be away from him, and if I took the position, we’d be lucky to see each other a few times a week. The company was expanding globally, and I’d have to travel overseas.

“I understand,” I finally admitted, my voice softer.

“Don’t be upset, or I might have to stop by the jewelry store to make it up to you.” He flashed a teasing grin.

“No, no more gifts,” I insisted, shaking my head.

He frowned, clearly not ready to let it go. “You can’t tell me not to buy you gifts.”

“I can, or I’ll take them back,” I shot back, trying to hold my ground.

“You certainly will not. We can more than afford the gifts I buy you.” He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed defiantly.

“That’s not the point,” I said, frustration bubbling again.

“Then what is?” he pressed, his gaze unwavering.

“The fact that I don’t need gifts.”

“Grumble all you want; I’m going to keep doing it.” He paused, his expression shifting. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“What might that be?” I asked, curiosity piqued despite my irritation.

“A lot of companies have interns. I’d like to set up a program here. We’re big enough, and we might find some talent from the area schools.”

I leaned back, considering. “You want me to set it up?”

“Yes. You’re good at things like that. You could hire an assistant to help,” he encouraged.

“It sounds like a good idea. I wish I had interned somewhere. My first boss was a real stickler and probably wanted to sexually harass me,” I joked, a grin breaking through my earlier frustration.

“That bastard. How dare he?” He shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. “But I don’t blame him. You’re so fucking sexy, Morgan. I’d love to sexually harass you right now.”

“I bet you would, Mr. Abbott, but I have work to do. It will have to wait until we get home tonight,” I replied, biting back a smile.

“But I’m already hard,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“We’re in the office. We must maintain professionalism.” I held my ground, though my heart raced at his boldness.

He stood and moved behind me, his fingers gently pushing my sleek dark hair aside. He pressed a soft kiss to my neck, heat surging straight to my core.

“Still feeling professional, Mrs. Abbott?” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

“Stop it, Slade,” I whispered, half-heartedly pushing him away.

“Come to my office. It’s bigger and more comfortable.” His voice dripped with temptation.

“I have work to finish. Stop trying to seduce me, or I’ll contact the HR department,” I warned, though my resolve was weakening.

He only grinned, slipping his hand over my shoulder to cup my breast. “Slade,” I said in warning as I dropped my pen.

He leaned closer, his mouth by my ear. “I want to fuck you right now,” he murmured, his tone making my pulse quicken.

Just then, my desk phone rang, cutting through the tension. I quickly hit the speaker button. “Yes?”

“This is Leigh. Is Mr. Abbott in your office?” She sounded as professional as ever.

“I’m here,” Slade answered, his tone shifting to business mode.

“Mr. Cabrallo is on line two. Should I tell him you’ll call back?”

“No, I was expecting his call. Tell him I’ll pick up in a minute. Thank you.”

I hit the button to hang up, and Slade turned to me, his expression smug. “You’re lucky, my dear wife, because what I wanted to do to you would be an exercise in control.”

“What control is that?” I asked, my heart racing with anticipation.

“Not screaming when I make you come.” He took my earlobe between his teeth, and I pulled away, breathless.

“Get out of my office,” I managed, trying to keep my composure.

“This isn’t over. We’ll reconvene at home,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I might be busy tonight. I’ve got drinks with the girls and maybe some dancing,” I teased, hoping to provoke him.

“The hell you will, Mrs. Abbott. I want you naked and spread-eagled the minute we get home so I can do some wicked things to you,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

“Go get your call, and know this: my panties are wet,” I replied, my heart racing.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, opening my door and stepping out into the hall, leaving me with a big smile on my face.

Slade’s breath was hot against my skin as he pressed his mouth to my inner thigh, teasing me. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing just above my core. His tongue flicked out, sending a jolt of anticipation through me.

I barely had time to react before his mouth descended, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes. The heat of him against me was electric. “Slade,” I whispered, my fingers tangling in the sheets, but he didn’t stop—if anything, he doubled down, lapping at me like I was his favorite flavor of ice cream.

I tried shifting my hips, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, but his hands tightened around my thighs, holding me firmly in place. “Stay still,” he commanded, his voice low and husky. “I want you to come for me.”

A moan escaped my lips as his tongue moved deeper, and he brought his fingers into play, rubbing circles around my clit with the gentlest pressure. It was too much. My back arched off the bed as the orgasm ripped through me, my entire body quaking with release.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride lacing his tone as he kissed his way up my stomach, letting me catch my breath. My chest heaved, my mind spinning, but the moment of reprieve didn’t last long.

Slade’s tongue returned to me, his lips brushing against my sensitive skin. “No more,” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. “Too sensitive.”

But he wasn’t finished. “I need dessert before dinner,” he teased, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “You’re sweet as pie.”

“Slade, no,” I protested weakly, but it was no use. His tongue flicked out again, torturously slow, drawing another wave of pleasure from me as I squirmed beneath him. I tried to shift away, but he pinned me down effortlessly, chuckling softly. “No, you don’t.”

Heat pooled deep in my core, and within minutes, I was trembling again as another orgasm rolled through me. My body shuddered under the intensity, and I gasped for air, my fists still clenched around the sheets. Slade grinned, moving up beside me, planting soft kisses on my belly.

“I think I’m enjoying marriage very much,” he whispered, his voice warm with satisfaction.

“More than when we were just engaged?” I managed to ask, still breathless from the pleasure.

“Of course,” he replied, his lips quirking into a playful smile. “You’re Mrs. Abbott now. My Mrs. Abbott.”

I smiled back, but my mind wandered. “I still think I deserved the vice president’s position,” I said, my tone soft but firm.

Slade raised an eyebrow, his hand sliding down to stroke his erection. “You want to discuss this now?” he asked, amusement in his voice as his fingers traced the slickness of his shaft.

I looked at him, my body still buzzing. “I’d rather climb aboard,” I said, my lips curving into a smirk.

His grin widened. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

I straddled him, guiding him inside me, and he groaned as I began to move. His hands found mine, our fingers intertwining as he held my gaze, never looking away. Each movement was slow, deliberate, the connection between us deepening with every thrust.

“We’ll make beautiful children,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes, we will,” I panted, riding him harder, feeling every inch of him inside me.

“I want one soon,” he breathed, his eyes darkening.

I froze, my body stilling. “I thought you wanted to wait at least six months?” I asked, searching his face.

He hesitated, then sighed. “I thought I did too, but now…I want one as soon as possible.”

I bit my lip, unsure of how to respond. “We should discuss it,” I said, though my body was still craving him, my walls squeezing around him involuntarily.

Slade’s breath hitched, his hands tightening on mine. “Maybe later,” he whispered, his voice strained as I began to move again, pushing both of us toward the edge.

We lay tangled in the sheets, still catching our breath, the warm glow of satisfaction settling over us. Slade’s arm was draped across my stomach, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on my skin. I tilted my head to look at him, my mind still reeling from what he'd said earlier.

“You really want a baby now?” I asked, my voice soft but curious.

Slade shifted slightly, pulling me closer. We’d showered quickly after our lovemaking, but the heat between us still lingered. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I think so,” he replied, his tone thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow. “What brought this on?”

“Chloe Dupree.”

I blinked. “From accounting?”

“Yeah,” he said, his fingers still tracing patterns on my skin. “She’s on maternity leave, but she stopped by the office the other day with her baby. I just happened to be in the lobby when she came in.”

I could feel him smile against my hair as he added, “Her son, Milo. Beautiful kid. She let me hold him.”

I pulled back slightly to look at him. “And you never said anything?”

Slade shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it. Would you mind if we had a baby sooner than planned?”

I hesitated, letting the idea settle. I hadn’t expected this conversation tonight, but now that it was out in the open, it didn’t feel as overwhelming as I thought it would. “No,” I answered honestly, meeting his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind. I want to give my parents a grandchild. They’re not getting any younger, as you know.”

Slade nodded. “I’m aware.”

“I think I’d like to have a baby,” I repeated, the weight of my decision solidifying. “I’ll be thirty soon.”

“In like a year and a half,” Slade teased, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I nudged him playfully before getting serious again. “Pregnancy won’t happen right away when I stop taking my pills. It could take time. A month, maybe six.”

His hand stilled against my skin. “I hope not,” he said, his voice low with anticipation.

I gave a small laugh. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “When will you stop taking them?”

“If we’re on the same page about this,” I said, turning slightly to face him, “then I’ll stop immediately.”

Slade’s grip tightened around me, a certainty in his voice as he said, “We are. I want this. I’m sure.”

“Then I won’t take them starting tomorrow,” I confirmed, feeling a shiver of excitement run through me.

Slade kissed the top of my head, pulling me closer against his chest. I snuggled into the warmth of his body, the thought of becoming a mother settling into my mind, filling me with both excitement and nervous energy. My mother hadn’t experienced motherhood until her forties—I wanted that privilege much earlier. I wanted to have the energy for my children, to be the kind of parent who could run after them, not one who had to sit on the sidelines.

“You’ll make an incredible mother,” Slade whispered, his breath warm against my hair.

“And you’ll be an amazing father,” I replied, closing my eyes and letting the comfort of the moment wash over me. The future stretched out before us, full of possibilities—ones we were now ready to embrace.