Mail-Order Groom: A Valentine Romantic Comedy

"That we started as a mail-order marriage, but ended up falling in love along the way?" Her lips curved in the prettiest smile, and Philippe forced himself to smile back even as her words made him feel like someone had just walked over his grave.

"It was really, really sweet of you to try and hide the truth."

Philippe knew this was his last chance to make things right and come clean.

"And I think that deserves a reward, so..."

"Charlee-Mae—-"

"Don't you think it's time to make a woman out of me?"

Putain de bordel de merde.

And then his wife knelt down.

"But first..."

She reached for the buttons of his trousers, and Philippe's fists clenched against his sides. His conscience told him it wasn't right to let Charlee-Mae do this when he had yet to tell her about—-

FUCK!

His trousers were now pooled around his ankles, and his wife's fingers were stroking gently over the bulge of his arousal.

"What a huge package you have..." Charlee-Mae only meant to tease, but when her words made her husband growl, the rawness of the sound made her entire body burn, and she suddenly had the most pressing need to see—-

Oh my Lord!

After tugging his boxers down his legs, she found herself directly at eye level with Philippe's cock, which was definitely, absolutely, and wonderfully...huge. She wasn't even sure she could wrap her fingers completely around—-oh.

Charlee-Mae couldn't help but stare in awe.

He really was huge, and just as she suspected, he really was too thick for her to fully hold, and when she thought about how long he was...

Philippe saw his wife gulp, and all he could think about was what she would gulp on next, and fuck, fuck, fuck—-

Her amber eyes were now looking up to his, and the helpless desire he saw in her gaze destroyed whatever control and conscience he had left inside of him.

"Tu es très énorme, monsieur."

The whispered words, and oh fuck, that accent of hers which was still as shitty as it was lust-inducing - both were the last straw, and he could no longer stop himself from gently cupping her nape until he was slowly guiding her mouth to the swollen and slightly wet head of his arousal.

Aaaaah.

His eyes squeezed shut as the warm, moist heaven that was his wife's mouth took him in, slowly and tentatively at first, but because of the steady pressure that he was exerting as he continued to guide her movement, the rest of his cock gradually made it past her lips...

And then he was completely in, and he felt his wife slowly start to suck on his cock.

"Charlee-Mae, mon Dieu..."

The sound of her husband's lust-roughened groan made Charlee-Mae want to moan herself, but with her mouth completely stuffed, all she could do was reach up to gently squeeze his balls while sucking harder on his cock, which was hotter, harder, and bigger than she could ever imagine.

It made her dizzy with pleasure, knowing that this unbelievably enormous cock was all hers and hers alone, and when her husband slowly started to move, the realization that something she had once secretly dreamed of—-

The man she loved was now fucking her mouth—-

Aaaah.

All she could suddenly think about was doing anything and everything she could to pleasure her husband. To suck and lick him endlessly. Caress his balls. And when she heard him growling her name and felt him try to pull out—-

No!

Her hands tightened around the muscled cheeks of his ass, and she sucked his cock as hard as she could—-

"Putain!"

His hand on her neck tightened a fraction, and then he was groaning, his cum shooting out of his cock. It tasted hot, salty, and very much him, and all she could do was close her eyes as she drank and swallowed everything in.

Philippe carefully pulled out of his wife's mouth before drawing her gently up to her feet. Amber eyes looked up to him, and his chest clenched at the tenderness he saw in his wife's gaze.

"Mon coeur..."

He had used the endearment before. Just once. But now, he knew once was still more than enough, and that he should not have spoken such words before until he had meant them...like now.

His mother was right, after all.

A hopeless romantic he seemed to fucking be as well, having fallen in love with the wife who was only supposed to be his tool for revenge.

Chapter Eight

Charlee-Mae's heart started thudding against her chest when her husband suddenly walked away...to check if their door was locked. It wasn't (oh my), but it was now, and by the time Philippe walked back to her side, the butterflies in her stomach had already started flying around like they had completely lost their minds...and they went even crazier when Philippe locked his gaze with hers just as he started removing the rest of his clothing.

Oh...my...Lord.

He was naked in mere moments, and Charlee-Mae's throat went dry. Philippe had always been gorgeous, but he was more so now, with every muscular inch of him exposed. The light sprinkling of hair on his chest made her fingers itch, and they itched even more as her gaze trailed down and she saw his fully aroused cock visibly throbbing with need.