Cease Fire (Blackbridge Security 9)
Page 17
I’m not a sadist or even really into pain. I might slap an ass on occasion, but it’s giving pleasure, sometimes more than a woman thinks she can handle, that really gets me off. Yet, there’s just something about Jules and the way she seems insatiable despite the countless orgasms I’ve given her. I take what I need from her as well, and she seems all too willing to please as she does to receive.
We’re not just compatible. We’re fucking combustible in bed.
I love my sister, but if skipping today and staying in her hotel room was an option, I would’ve suggested it when Jules woke up and started scurrying around because she was already running late for the events scheduled for her today.
“Your sister is getting married,” Gannon hisses from my right.
“I know.”
“So maybe you should be watching her instead of Jules?”
My eyes narrow, my fists clenching on my thighs, and I know he sees my irritation because he chuckles.
“You’re never going to get over this crush you have on that woman, are you?”
I can admit I had a crush on Jules Warren, but I can’t tell him what it is now. It’s so much more than that.
I know what she tastes like before and during an orgasm. I’m well aware of the distinct change in her arousal after she’s been fucked for hours and hours. I’ve tasted nearly every inch of her skin. I know that she’ll come on the spot if I tease her ass while fucking her from behind. I know that her knees get weak every time I bite one of her nipples, and that she arches her back a second before she comes. I know that she’s as desperate for my orgasm as she is for her own. I know the two words “good girl” have the power to send cold chills up her arms, and that anytime I praise her, she gets slicker and slicker.
“You’re making me uncomfortable,” Gannon snaps, but there’s no real irritation in his tone.
To keep the conversation from getting deeper, I reluctantly pull my eyes from Jules and keep them on my sister for the rest of the ceremony. Both Beth and Spencer have tears running down their cheeks when the officiant announces them husband and wife, but it’s the kiss that draws all of my focus.
It’s so passionate and personal, so very needy and desperate, the way Spencer pulls back as if my sister is the only woman he’s ever seen, looking into her eyes as if none of us exist before pressing his mouth to hers once again.
That’s what I want, complete and utter devotion. I know I won’t get that from Jules, but this weekend will easily come in second place. Having Jules Warren under me is my own fairy tale, my own little slice of heaven.
Jules doesn’t meet my eyes when she walks back down the aisle toward the back of the room, and I hate the ache I feel in my chest because of it.
At the same time, I’m perfectly okay right now with only being used by her in the privacy of her hotel room. As much as I want to shout to the world that she’s mine, I know that she isn’t.
Just sex, right?
I can handle a weekend of fun without losing my damn mind. I’m almost certain of it.
“Move, fucker,” Gannon says as he backhands my chest to get me moving.
I blink and realize I was once again lost in my head, back in the room with Jules. I shuffle to standing to get out of his way.
“I’m starving,” my brother grunts as he moves past me. His wife shakes her head in my direction.
“He’s always hungry,” she mutters as she quickens her step to catch up.
The reception is delayed for a while for pictures, and I nearly lose my shit when the groomsman paired with Jules places his hands on her hips for several of the shots. Jealousy where the woman is concerned is nothing new. I was so damn pissed when she brought a college boyfriend to Thanksgiving one year, but the possession I now feel at seeing someone else touch her is new.
I didn’t have that before. But after spending the last two nights with her, it’s an emotion that’s rearing its ugly head.
“Now one with the entire Riggs family,” the photographer suggests, waving her arm to include all of my siblings.
“That means you, too, Jules,” Beth says when her best friend steps to the side. “You’re practically my sister.”
Jules cringes, the facial expression disappearing just as quickly as it arrived. I’m certain I’m the only one who noticed it as everyone else is paying attention to the directions of the photographer as she situates so many people to fit in one shot.
“Jules, how about you stand over there with that brother? Yes, the bearded one. The height difference is perfect. There you go. Everyone ready?”