Oh.
My.
God.
The bride was definitely blushing as we walked down the aisle together. How could I not be, after a declaration like that? Especially considering how explicit the contract I’d signed had been when it came to sex. I’d signed away my ass to him…literally.
The ceremony and reception passed in a blur, while my mind was focused on the sensual promise Sullivan had made. In what felt like a matter of minutes instead of hours, he had me right where he needed me to be to fulfil it—in the bridal suite of the Four Seasons Hotel.
“Alone at last,” he drawled, his raspy tone sending shivers down my spine. After kicking off his shoes, he prowled towards me. He tossed his tuxedo jacket onto the couch and quickly undid the buttons on his crisp, white dress shirt. Eyes blinking at the muscular chest and six-pack abs he’d been hiding under his suit, I backed up a few steps when his hands went to the waist of his pants and undid the snap. “It’s too late to run. The deal’s been made. You’re mine now.”
“I wasn’t running,” I gulped as I took yet another step back, bumping into the bed before I realized I’d moved.
“Sure you weren’t,” he chuckled. He stalked forward, eliminating the space between us until he stood inches away from me. “Don’t worry, though. Once I get my hands and mouth on you, all those fears I see shining up at me from your pretty blue eyes will disappear because you won’t be able to think past the pleasure I’m about to give you.”
“Wow,” I breathed out. Although my mind knew that Sullivan was virtually a stranger, my body didn’t seem to care. My panties dampened, a shiver raced up my spine, and my legs started to tremble enough that I fell backwards onto the mattress behind me.
“Can I take that as a yes to my plan?” Sullivan asked.
I nodded jerkily, the ability to form a coherent thought, let alone words, beyond me. He unzipped his pants and slid them down his legs, leaving him in only a pair of black boxer briefs. His hard length pressed against the stretchy material, a dot of moisture visible at the tip. I didn’t get to stare at him for long before he climbed onto the mattress next to me and went to work on the buttons running up my back. While he undid the long row, he kissed along my jawline and down my neck. Once he got the bodice free, he trailed his lips along my shoulder and scraped his teeth against my soft skin.
“Lift up,” he instructed.
I pressed my palms against the mattress and felt the silky material of my dress slide against me as he worked it down my body until I was left in nothing but my white lace panties and thigh-high stockings.
“I do believe I said something about getting to finally taste you.” He pushed me down so I was lying all the way back, stretched out for him to feast upon. He trailed his eyes along my body, and they darkened with desire, turning almost brown.
“Yeah, you did,” I breathed. The idea sounded perfect to me right about then.
Holding himself over me with one arm, he cupped one of my breasts and rolled the nipple between his fingertips as he slowly kissed his way down my chest until he reached the other nipple. His tongue flicked it twice before he sucked it into his mouth. My back arched, and I ran my fingers through his hair, pressing his head closer to my chest.
“Such perfect tits,” he murmured against my skin while switching his attention to the other side. “I’m going to have to fuck them someday.” His fingers trailed between my breasts as he kissed his way down my belly. “Get them lubed up and slide my dick between them, feeding the tip between your plump lips on each thrust. It’ll feel so damn good.” His blond head hovered over the drenched material of my panties as he breathed the next words against them. “But not nearly as good as your pussy, which is why tit-fucking you will have to wait until after I’ve gotten my fill.”
His fingers slid under the lace material, and he yanked my panties over my hips. With one arm pushing them down my legs, he bent his head low and flattened his tongue against my clit, licking his way to my core. Hooking my legs over his shoulders and holding my ass, he proceeded to torture me with his mouth. He trailed his tongue down one side of my pussy lips and back up the other, over and over again, until my hips were writhing in his grip.
“So fucking smooth,” he growled, making me thankful for the Coochy Cream I’d used when I shaved this morning.