80

Allison
That kiss. That stupid, perfect, amazing, incredible kiss.
I thought I liked his smell. But his taste is even better. Yes, there’s some whiskey, but there’s also lemon, and mint, and something deeper than that, a darkness, a need underpinning everything.
He holds onto my hair, fisting it tight as he kisses me, pinning me back against the headboard of the bed.
I sink into his lips. Into the way they move against mine. Into his breathing, the pattern of his inhales.
His fingers slide through my hair, stroke my cheek, grip my wrists and arch them above my head. My hips move, grinding into him. I feel his hardness, digging back against me. He’s devouring me, and I’m tumbling down into this moment despite knowing it’s a terrible idea. If I can’t find a way to halt this freefall, I never will.
But I don’t want to stop.
He moves to the side, dragging me onto his lap. I shiver as he unzips my dress, and together, we finally get the damn thing off. It’s an immediate relief, as his lips find my neck, my throat, kissing, biting back up to my mouth.
“That’s so much better,” he purrs, chewing on my lower lip. “I hated doing this with you in another man’s wedding dress.”
“I feel like it was always yours,” I say, grinding my hips back. My panties are soaked through as I drag myself along his hard length through his slacks. I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning my delight. “You got more use out of it, anyway.”
“I ripped it to pieces,” he says, grabbing my ass. “Like I’ll do to you.”
“Prove it.”
He shoves me back, lifts my hips, takes off my panties. He kisses my inner thigh, doing it slow, making me watch. My mouth’s open, salivating, pleasure pulsing into me like gunshots. I gasp when his lips find my soaking clit, lapping me slowly in little circles.
I grab his hair tightly.
“Pretty girl,” he says, lapping me up and down. “Delicious girl. I knew you’d taste good, but to have a wife like this? That tastes like this?”
“You’d better learn how to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Strange time to say that, considering my mouth is between your legs.”
“That’s fine. So long as it isn’t your hands.”
His laughs and sinks his fingers deep into my pussy. My eyes widen as pleasure flares and my back arches. In response, I pull his hair.
“You like that,” he says, fucking me with his fingers.
“God, I do,” I moan, my eyes rolling back. “How the hell are you so good at this?”
“I’ve been saving myself for you all my life, princess.” He drives his fingers deeper, curling them, teasing me as he licks my clit. Pressure builds, growing, tightening in my core, the pressure that’s been there since the wedding but finally reaching an explosive peak.
I start to writhe my hips into his mouth, matching his rhythm. “I don’t want you to lie to me,” I moan, losing my mind. “But I also don’t mind it when you tell me nice things.”
“Such as how fucking good you look riding my fingers right now? How lovely you taste on my tongue?”
“Keep going.”
“But I never imagined I’d take a wife, let alone a beautiful wife like you. A wife full of fire and sex, a wife I want to break and rebuild. A wife I want to sleep beside, pleasure, argue with, fuck nice and deep and rough. A wife I could get off a thousand times and never lose interest.”
“Yes,” I gasp, muscles clenching. “Fuck, god damn it, yes.” My fingers dig into the covers as I come against his mouth. He doesn’t stop, the monster, he licks and fucks me with his fingers, and I keep on coming, harder and deeper, my eyes rolled back, my brain a total blank lost to ecstasy.
Until finally, I collapse back, breathing hard. Sweat trickles down between my breasts. He kisses me, making me taste my pussy on his tongue, then removes my strapless bra. He licks my nipples slowly, enjoying himself. “Lovely,” he murmurs. “I don’t know how I got this lucky.”
“I hope you’re liking this,” I say, grinning my stupid face off. That was the best orgasm of my freaking life. “Because it’s never happening again.”
“I doubt that.” He unbuckles his belt and takes off his pants. I stare, heart racing.
“We’re not done?”
“Why would we be? I’m not finished with you. Not even close.”
I start to back away as he takes off his boxer-briefs. The man’s cock is long and thick and hard as all hell.
“Maybe I’m finished with you. Ever consider that?”
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t think so.”
“Good girl.” He grabs my ankle before I can turn to run. I yelp as he drags me back on my belly, pinning me down on the bed. He spreads my ass, lifts my hips, holds me down with his other hand, and licks my pussy from behind.
“Oh, my fuck,” I moan, hands gripping the sheets. “That’s so fucking good.”
“You are so fucking good, my soon-to-be wife,” he murmurs as he leans back. I look over my shoulder, my hips still in the air, as his tip presses against my aching, soaking pussy. He moves it up and down, getting it nice and wet, before pushing it against my entrance. “Mine,” he whispers, before plunging himself inside of me.
My back arches. Everything goes black for half a second. He’s massive, thick, splits me in half in all the best ways.
Then he’s fucking me. Slowly, gently at first, gliding in and out of my absolutely drenched pussy. I look back and he kisses me, grabbing my hair, squeezing my ass, gripping my hips.
“Incredible,” he groans. “Every inch of you feels like heaven.”
“Same to you,” I whimper as he starts to fuck me faster. “But this is still a one-time thing.”
He laughs, going deeper, fucking me harder until I’m lost in the movements, in the motions and the moment, grinding our bodies together in that perfect dance. He pulls me against him, hands exploring my breasts, mouth nibbling my neck, until he moves back and drags me down on top of him.
I straddle him and slide back, whispering his name as I ride, grinding my hips back and down into him, hands on his chest. He thrusts into me, and all I can hear is breathing, moans, gasps, the sound of his palm against my ass, until the pleasure’s growing again.
This time, it’s a glow. Slow and sensual. Not a tension, not an explosion, but something better. It builds from deep inside my core until I can’t stop it anymore. I lean down, burying his mouth with mine, and I come as he keeps fucking me. I come, and he doesn’t stop, fucking me deeper, faster, until I feel his heat fill between my legs, his moans echoing down my throat.
We finish in tangled sheets. He pulls me against him, one strong arm wrapped around my back. His heart’s hammering and I let myself drift, shocked at the sudden wave of exhaustion that threatens to overwhelm me.
“What do we do now?” I whisper, shivering as a sudden wave of tingles rolls down my spine. He’s stroking my back with his fingertips.
“Wait until we’re ready do that again.”
I grin but try to hide it. “I told you. One-time thing.”
“And I told you, you’re lying.”
“Test me. Find out.”
“You tried to get away once already. Think you’ll do better this time?”
“Fair point. I am pretty exhausted. Turns out nearly getting killed really takes it out of you.”
“You get used to it eventually.” His mouth nuzzles against my neck. “We’ll stay here tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I have a plane at a nearby airport. We’ll take that back to Boston.”
“Boston?” I adjust so I can see his face. “Why Boston?”
“I need to present you to the family.”
“But we aren’t married yet.”
“We’ll fill out the contract and the paperwork on the plane. A friendly judge in the city will file it, and a few days from now, it’ll be official.”
“Right. We’ll be husband and wife.” I stare at the line of his jaw before turning my back to him again. He doesn’t let me go. “You haven’t even gotten me a ring.”
“Do you want one?”
“No. Not really.” I close my eyes, yawning. “Would’ve been nice though. A big proposal. A huge wedding. The works.”
His breath presses against the back of my neck. “If that’s what you want, we can make it happen.”
“Nah, I’m kidding. I ran away from one big wedding already, remember? Let’s not make it a habit.”
“Fair point.” He squeezes me tight against him. “Go to sleep, princess. Tomorrow, you’re getting married.”
“That’s what I thought about today. See how that worked out?” I feel myself drifting. My thoughts getting heavy. I should shower, brush my teeth, do something. But I have no toiletries, no toothbrush, not even a clean pair of underwear to change into.
“You’ll find I’m a whole different beast from Paul, my princess,” he whispers as I fall deeper, afraid that he’s right.