“Sam,” I beg, even if I don’t know what I’m asking for.
His mouth crashes down on mine, smothering the noises I’m making as he fucks me harder. My bare back scrapes against the wall as I’m pressed against it. Sam drives into me again and again, and I break open, shaking with pleasure and trying to hold back, hold it in, keep it quiet. The orgasm rocks through me, and I’m lost in it, gasping. The effort to keep it contained makes it that more powerful, and I’m shaking with it. Sam drives into me a final time, letting go, and I feel heat spread through me.
Neither of us move for a minute, the aftershocks of my orgasm making me shiver as he holds me. Sam’s forehead is against mine, his breathing hard. “I look forward to seeing that thong,” he says, smiling.
“It’s going to be ruined now,” I say.
“Exactly.”
He kisses me again, and there’s a crackle of speakers and a voice. “Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Logan.”
“Shit,” I say. “They’re going to announce us next.”
He lets me down and zips himself back into his pants. I rearrange my skirt and pray that my hair isn’t too messed up. I can feel Sam’s cum dripping down my thigh and flush with embarrassment, but I don’t have time for that right now. We step out from behind the curtain and applaud Rose and Thomas as they make their way to the head table. “The Maid of Honor and Best Man, Fiona Monroe and Samuel Logan.”
We step forward and wave, hand and hand, and follow the happy couple to the head table. Sam is sitting by Thomas, and I’m sitting by Rose. I sit down, and she glances over at me. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I owe Thomas fifty dollars.”
I shake my head. “Why?”
Rose gives me a look. “We had a bet going about how long it would take for you to have sex. I bet that you’d wait until after we cut the cake.” My eyes go wide, and Rose rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me that look. You sneak off to do it every chance you get.” She smiles. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s cute, but I was hoping to win.”
“It’s that obvious?” I ask.
She laughs and takes a sip of water. “Yes.”
“God.” I think I must be bright red now. I glance down the table and see Thomas grinning, with a shocked look on Sam’s face. I can only imagine their version of this conversation. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Rose laughs. “I can’t say I won’t do the same at your wedding.”
Someone calls her attention away for a photo, and I meet Sam’s eyes. I’m embarrassed, but also not. It almost makes me want to do it again, right now. After all the wedding traditions are through, the cake, the bouquet, and the sendoff of the bride and groom, Sam finds me sitting at one of the tables, eating a piece of cake. “Ready to go home?” he asks.
The party is still in full swing, but I’m exhausted and Sam has a promise to keep. I take his hand and we say our goodbyes as we make our way out to our car.
“I can’t believe they bet on us.”
Sam chuckles, “I can.”
“We’ll have to make a bet at our wedding.”
“We can make a bet now,” he says, spinning me and backing me against the car.
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I bet that you can’t keep quiet when I peel you out of that dress at home and fuck you senseless.”
“And what are the stakes in this bet?”
Sam stops and thinks. “If I win—and I will—you have to make me dinner naked, and I get two hours to tease you where you’re not allowed to come.”
“Hmm,” I say. Sam loves to see how long he can edge me, and I love it to because by the time I come it’s so intense that it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. But two hours is a long time. “Okay,” I say. “But I get the same thing if I win.”
A devious smile plays across his face. “Deal. And to make it just a little more interesting, how about we say that the prize will be offered on our wedding night.”
I freeze. Oh, he’s good. “Deal.”
He kisses me, but it’s not the powerful one I expect. It’s soft, intimate. “Have I mentioned that I love you today?”
“Yes,” I say, “but it’s always nice to hear.”
“I love you. Marry me?”
I laugh. “I already said yes.”
“I know, but it’s always nice to hear.”
“Yes,” I say, “I’ll marry you.”
“Good. Now let’s go home. I have a bet to win.”
I open the door and slip inside, “Not on your life.”