Not Husband Material (Billionaire's Contract Duet 1) - Page 28

I pushed my finger all the way in and she hissed, eyeing me over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Her breath was ragged. “How did you know—”

I cut her off. “I’m just making you feel good. Want me to stop?” I teased, knowing she loved it. She was so tight, but eager to stretch and learn. Her body yearned for it.

She shook her head. “No, don’t stop. It feels fucking amazing. I’ve just never—”

“Then let me be the first to christen my wife.” I winked.

She threw her hips back and I felt my spine tense again. I was a man lost this time. I slid my hand to her waist, digging my fingers into her soft skin. I couldn’t stop myself from climaxing. I pounded my cock into her, wanting to give her everything I had. I wanted to fill her. Soak her. I slid my finger in an out of her sweet virgin asshole as quickly as my cock moved in and out of her pussy.

“Oh fuck, Evie,” I rasped, slicing harder and faster.

I thought I saw stars, or maybe it was the gates to paradise. I didn’t know. Only that my body spiraled and shook. I breathed her name over and over until I had exploded every last drop of come I had inside her.

I didn’t want to move. My cock was happy right where it was?

?inside my wife.

Instead, I pulled her to me, lowering us both to the bed, so that our bodies were locked together in the sweaty aftermath of sex.

I kissed her neck. “Think you’ll remember your wedding night?”

She giggled. It was the sound of music. “Do you think you will, or are you worried we’re still too drunk?”

“Oh we’re definitely still drunk.” I ran my hand over her hip. “Drunk, married, and happily fucked.” I laughed. It sounded absurd. In less than twenty-fours I had altered the course of my life. It felt good.

“And tomorrow?” she asked.

I closed my eyes. “Tomorrow we deal with tomorrow.”

12

Evie

When my eyes opened the next morning, I was hit with sunlight and the haze of what happened last night. For a second, I thought maybe I had concocted the entire thing. That would make more sense than believing I had run into Jeremy Hartwell after twelve years, had amazing sex in Bella’s cellar, followed by an arranged marriage proposal, a quick rendezvous to North Carolina, and a wedding in a special elopement inn tucked away in the mountains. Oh right, after flying on the private jet with our own staff.

A dream made a lot more sense than even one of those things.

“Good morning,” Jeremy’s deep voice called next to me.

Shit. It wasn’t a dream. I looked down. I was naked, under the covers, his body wrapped around mine. And it was an incredible chiseled body. Sculpted from hard work in the gym.

“Hi.” I didn’t know whether I should pull the covers up to my chin or make a run for the bathroom.

“Last night was unexpected, wasn’t it?” He rolled on to his elbow, propped up, staring at me.

I bit my lip. “Unexpected. Yes.”

His hand slid under the covers, palming my stomach. I shivered. It moved lower. I whimpered when he found what he was looking for.

He grinned. “I wondered what it would be like waking up married.”

“Mmmhmm.” I nodded as my legs widened and he massaged my clit. I was sore and swollen. I’d had more sex last night than I had in the past five years combined. My body was somehow both in need of rest and craving more of Jer.

“And I think it’s already fucking amazing.” He pushed a finger inside and I couldn’t contain the hiss between my teeth. It hurt in an exquisite way. I wiggled, urging him to keep going.

His teeth nipped my shoulder. He rolled on top of me. He was already as hard as steel. He settled between my legs, pushing his thick shaft inside me.

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