Misadventures of a Backup Bride - Page 21

She doesn’t play coy. “You. What would happen as soon as we came through the door. How good it would feel.”

I arch my hips, nudging her ass with my hard cock. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I want you now, Ella.”

She pants, her head falling back against me. Her eyes close as she writhes under my touch. God, she’s so beautiful without knowing it, so sensual without being aware of her own feminine power.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to come on my fingers or with me buried inside you?” I nip at her lobe, smiling slightly as she trembles in my arms.

“I have to choose?”

“Don’t be greedy,” I scold, suppressing a laugh. “Tell me how you want to come.”

“With you inside me,” she gasps out.

Her answer thrills me. I’d like that, too. I won’t deny I’d like to simply watch her in the throes of ecstasy for the sheer visual enjoyment, but I’m not sure my patience will allow that.

Regretfully, I step away and release Ella, holding out my hand to her. “Come with me.”

She sets her palm on mine without hesitation. Our eyes meet. The thread of connection between us thickens, strengthens. It’s a completely new experience, yet I have no doubt that’s what this feeling is.

With an absent flip of the lock on the door, I lead her through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I have a giant soaking tub I’ve never used. And suddenly I want to inaugurate it the right way.

In the middle of the room, I grip her hips. “Stop.”

Ella does without hesitation, and my head swims with all the possible demands I could make of her body. She would undoubtedly surrender to them, to me. That notion is heady. I’ve always liked to be in control in bed, but with her the need has ratcheted up to a whole new level.

I turn her to face me. Our eyes meet. The moment is a profound thrill. The gravity of connecting the first time we’ve acknowledged our feelings mixes with pure sexual hunger to concoct a dizzying desire I doubt will end with our orgasms.

“Up you go, sweetheart.” I lift her onto the counter.

She settles herself on the marble and spreads her legs to me in invitation. I’m never going to turn that down.

“Wait here.” I press a kiss onto her forehead. I don’t dare take her mouth now. If I do, I won’t let her go until we’ve both found climax.

“Hurry,” she breathes as she leans back onto the bathroom mirror, skimming her fingertips along the insides of her splayed thighs.

Yeah, with a visual like that, you bet I will.

I brush my hand over her knee as I make my way out of the bathroom, tearing through the bedroom, and into the home office down the hall. I pick up the rolling stool, then approach my bed again, stopping at the nightstand to retrieve a foil packet from the box inside.

When I return to the bathroom, Ella sends me a questioning stare. “I understand what the condom is for, but the stool?”

I don’t reply, merely smile as I set the rolling contraption in the middle of the room, start the tub, then adjust the tap until the water is the right temperature. Once it is, I plug up the drain, leaving the water trickling in the background.

Then I lower myself onto the padded stool and roll my way between Ella’s delicious thighs. Without preamble, I grip her knees in my hands, dangle her calves down my back, and fasten my mouth over her pussy. Her flavor is an addiction. So are her responses—immediate and without filter. She loves being worshipped, and I’m more than happy to make her feel like a goddess.

Within moments, she threads her fingers through my hair and tries to pull me deeper. She gasps, groans, whimpers, the sounds a beautiful symphony of pleasure filling my ears.

“Carson?” She sounds almost panicked.

Yes, she feels me. She wants this. She’s only moments away. Granted, this isn’t the mutual orgasm we discussed earlier…but I don’t hear her complaining.

To help her find satisfaction now, I plunge a pair of fingers into her, relishing the feel of her flesh clinging to my digits because she’s yearning to be filled, desperate for the friction. I find the smooth skin along her front wall and rub slowly, methodically, unrelentingly.

Within seconds, she’s scratching at me, begging with her grasping hands and unintelligible pleas. Her clit swells on my tongue. Her pussy grips my fingers mercilessly. I moan against her flesh.

She explodes.

Her back arches as she growls out a climax like I’ve never heard from her—deep, wrenching, and endless. The sounds mimic the crescendo of pleasure that builds inside her, rising to a loud cacophony of cries that echo off the walls.

I hold in a smile as I lap and suck and stimulate her until her entire body goes limp.

“You’re insatiable,” she manages to say weakly, but she’s wearing a loopy little grin that tells me she’s not at all unhappy about that fact.

“You’re welcome,” I quip as I roll across the floor to kill the tap to the tub.

The water level looks perfect, and gentle tendrils of steam rise up invitingly.

She eyes the tub. “Are we cleaning up already?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m definitely going to dirty you up some more.”

“If that’s the case, you’re overdressed.”

My tux is wrinkled, and my shirt feels limp after a full night of festivities and a few minutes in the humid bathroom. I’m ready to ditch it all.

“You’re right.” I stand and tug at my bow tie, then shed my shoes, jacket, pants, and once stiffly starched shirt… Finally, I stand before her, every bit as naked as she is, then I help her off the counter and into my arms.

With a hand in her soft, dark tresses, I guide her mouth to mine and feast on her tongue, going deep, letting her taste herself and feel my passion that’s been simmering and stewing while I sent her into a spinning climax. She clings to me, not quite steady on her feet as she gives me every part of herself, settling her breasts on my chest, gripping my neck, caressing the side of my leg with her calf.

She’s perfect against me and about to take me deep into her body. I’ve never felt a certainty that a woman is meant to be meaningful to me. Sure, I might have wanted another date—or a second dance of the mattress tango—to test the chemistry. But this need isn’t stemming from my libido.

Reluctantly, I release her and step into the tub I’ve intentionally only half filled. As the warm water encloses my feet and the lower part of my legs, I help her in, too, wrapping my arms around her to dust kisses along the graceful slope of her shoulder. Everything about this woman fascinates me.

“It’s a big tub, but I don’t think we’re both going to get clean in here,” she teases.

“Totally not the point.” I don’t give her time to ask questions before I sit in the shimmering water, bracing myself against the sloped back and donning my condom as she watches with an unblinking stare as water laps around my hips. “Straddle me.”

The light bulb illuminates in her head, and her entire face brightens as she positions her feet on either side of my thighs and sinks to her knees. I hold my cock by the base, pointing straight up at her as she settles the crest at her opening and begins to sink down with a sigh of pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to do this,” she admits.

Tags: Shayla Black Romance
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