One Night Stand Bride

“Really?” His groin tightened so fast it made him light-headed.

“True story,” she murmured. “Or didn’t you get the memo earlier that I wasn’t done?”

Wheeling, he waved at his mother and snagged Roz’s hand to lead her to the limo that waited patiently for them at the curb of the North Ridge Country Club. He’d paid the wedding coordinator a hefty sum to manage the logistics of the reception; she could handle whatever came after the departure of the bride and groom.

The limo ride took far too long—a whole ten minutes, during which he kept his hands off Roz like a good boy because this time, he didn’t want quick.

Slow would be the theme of his wedding night.

Except his wife smelled divine and she cuddled up next to him on the roomy leather seat, letting her fingers do some serious wandering over his lap. Strands of Roz’s dark hair had pulled out of the bun-like thing at her crown, dripping down in sexy little tendrils, and all he could think about was how it had gotten that way—his fingers.

He’d like to tug on a few more strands while deep inside her.

By the time the limo pulled up to the house, which his housekeeper had lit up for their arrival, his hard-on could cut glass and his patience had started to unravel.

“Inside,” he growled. “Now.”

To help her along, he swept her up in his arms to carry her over the threshold because it seemed like a legit thing that people did on their wedding day. She snuggled down into his embrace, looping her arms around his neck, and then got busy testing out his ability to walk while she nibbled on the flesh near his ear. Her tongue flicked out, sending a shower of sparks down his throat, and he stumbled, catching himself immediately. Wouldn’t do to drop his new wife.

“Unless you’d like our wedding night to be memorialized with a trip to the ER, I’d suggest waiting five seconds for any more of that,” he advised her, which she pretty much ignored. Now that he was on to her and better able to compensate, he walked faster.

They cleared the double front door, barely, as she’d started exploring his collarbone with her lips. There was no way he was doing stairs in his current fully aroused, highly sensitized state, so he let her slide to the ground and hustled her to the second floor.

Roz beat him to the gargantuan master suite that he’d yet to christen properly. He shut the doors to the bedroom behind him. In Vegas, they’d had a strict rule that no surface would go untouched. His bedroom’s decor had been pulled together by a professional and contained solid pieces stained with a shade of espresso that was so dark, it looked black. Not one Carpenter piece in the bunch, not even the woman beckoning him with a hooded, enigmatic expression that portrayed her very naughty thoughts.

Good God she was gorgeous in her white dress. She had the fullest lips that needed nothing extra to be lush and inviting. He could write poetry to her mouth for a decade. And her eyes...they did a thing where they were both transparent and mysterious all at the same time.

Would he ever get tired of her face? What if they were the kind of couple who actually stayed married on purpose, affording him the opportunity to watch her age? One day he might wake up and wonder where her looks had gone. But he didn’t think so. She’d still be Roz inside and that was the part he wanted with a burning need he scarcely recognized.

And need was supposed to be his wheelhouse. When he couldn’t quantify something related to sex, that was a problem. It felt too much like the intimacy that he religiously avoided.

No, the real problem was that they weren’t having sex yet. Sex eliminated all of the weirdness with pure mechanics of pleasure. And while he was busy composing sonnets to his wife’s beauty, she was standing there staring at him like he’d lost his mind, likely because he hadn’t made a move on her yet.

Clearly, he was slightly insane. What was he waiting for?

Striding forward, he did the one thing he hadn’t been able to do thus far. He spun his bride to face away from him, undid the catch on her zipper and yanked it down. The strapless dress peeled from her body, baring her back and oh, yeah, that was nice. Her spine beckoned and he bent to fuse his mouth to the ridges, working his way down until he hit the hollow above her buttocks. Laving at it, he adding some lip action until he earned a sharp little gasp from her.

This was what he’d come for. Blinding, carnal pleasure. All of the other internal noise? Not happening. The faster he got to a place where he couldn’t think, the faster all of the stuff inside that shouldn’t be there would fade.

That spurred him on enough to want more. Easing the dress down her hips, he pushed her gently, encouraging her to step out of it. That sexy little thong that he’d thus far only felt was indeed amazing in the light. It formed a vee down between her cheeks like an arrow pointing the way to paradise and he groaned as he recalled how much time he’d spent pleasuring her in that exact spot while in Vegas. It was worth a repeat for sure.

Falling to his knees, he slid his tongue beneath the lacy bands, following the dip down and back up again. He accompanied that with a leisurely exploration of the backs of her legs, ending with a nice tour of the covered area between her cheeks. That’s when her legs started trembling, whether from excitement or exhaustion he couldn’t be sure. He’d have to come back later.

Right now, his bride needed to be more comfortable. He had a lot more where that had come from.

He picked her up in his arms again and without the binding dress, it was so much easier. And more rewarding as her bare breasts were right there for

his viewing pleasure. That was a much better place to focus his attention.

Laying her on the bed, he looked his fill as he stripped out of his own clothes, impressed that he’d found the stamina to take the time. The last sock hit the floor and the appreciation in Roz’s gaze as she watched his show thoroughly stirred him.

The closet gymnastics had done nothing to take the edge off. Roz was dead wrong about that. He wanted her all over again with a fierce urgency that demanded absolute surrender.

Crawling across the mattress and up her body, he took the liberty of kissing his way to the perfect globes of her breasts, licking one bright, hard tip into his mouth. Her flesh rolled across his tongue. Divine. He sucked harder and she arched up off the bed with a tiny gasp. Not enough. Teeth against the tip, he scraped at it while plucking at the other one with his fingertips.

She felt exquisite in his hand. Silky. Excited. She pushed against his mouth, shoving her breast deeper, and he took it all, sucking her nipple against the roof of his mouth. That had driven her wild once before.

It did again. That simple movement got her thrashing under him, driving her hips against his painfully hard erection. The contact lit him up and felt so good, he ground into her stomach with tight circles. Inside. Now. His body was screaming for release, shooting instructions to his muscles to tilt her hips and drive to completion.