Although he stopped thrusting, he kept stroking her clit, keeping her orgasm going on and on.
Finally, she slowed, the pleasure fading to a warm glow. Quinn rested his head on her back, and they all drew in slow, deep breaths.
It was so warm and cozy between these two men. And she felt so well loved.
She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
April woke up with blinding sunlight flashing across her eyelids. Her head throbbed, and she just wanted to fall back asleep so she didn’t have to deal with it. She shielded her eyes with her hand and kept them closed against the onslaught.
Her head was foggy, but she knew she had to get up. For the past several months, with planning her wedding, her to-do list was always jam-packed. And the big day was …
Yesterday!
Her eyelids snapped open as a slew of memories fluttered through her brain. Of packing for the trip to Las Vegas. Of meeting Maurice at the hotel.
Oh, God, then the rehearsal dinner …
Her head ached even more as she remembered that disaster. She rubbed her temples.
As her bleary eyes focused, shock surged through her. There was a naked, masculine back facing her. Big and muscular with a small red birthmark on the right shoulder blade that looked like an eagle with its wings spread.
She sucked in a breath and realized there was an arm around her waist, too. Strong and thick. On the wrist, there was a gold watch with the iconic Rolex crown on the black face. On the back of his hand was a small scar.
Her breath caught when she saw a wedding band on the ring finger of the hand. Oh, God, she’d gone to bed with a married man? She’d never do such a thing.
The other man’s hand was draped over the covers, and she was shocked to see a wedding ring there, too.
She drew in a deep calming breath. No, she couldn’t have.
Then she glanced at her own hand and …
Red spots flickered in front of her eyes, and if she hadn’t been lying down, she probably would have fainted.
She was wearing a wedding ring, too.
She had to think, but her mind swirled in confusion.
All she knew for sure was that yesterday had been her wedding day.
And neither of these men were her fiancé, Maurice.
The arm around her waist tightened, and lips brushed the back of her neck.
“Good morning, Mrs. Taylor.”
That voice.
“Quinn?” she gasped.
She glanced over her shoulder. His lips were turned up in a lazy smile.
Then it all came tumbling back. Maurice ditching her at the hotel, leaving her with an exorbitant bill. Quinn bailing her out. Then …
Oh, God, the arrangement.
Her cheeks flushed at the memory of giving Austin a blow job in the gaming suite while Quinn watched, followed by Austin bringing her to orgasm with his talented mouth. Then when they’d walked back to the hotel …