One Night Stand Bride

Not on the agenda. Not yet. He had to slow it down.

Grabbing her hips, he peeled away from her luscious body and kissed down the length of her stomach until he hit her thighs. That lacy thong covered her and as much as he hated to see it go, it went.

He pushed her legs open and kept going. Gorgeous. The faster he sated her, the slower he could go because she was making him insane with hip rolls that pushed her closer to him, obviously seeking relief from the fire that was licking through her veins.

Or maybe that was just him.

Her secrets spread wide, he paused just a moment to enjoy the visual, but she was having none of that.

“Put your mouth on me,” she instructed throatily. “I’ve dreamed about your wicked hard tongue for weeks and weeks.”

Oh yeah? That was enough of a compliment to spur him into action. The first lick exploded across his taste buds, earthy and so thick with her desire. For him. This was his wife, who was wet and slick for him. It was nearly spiritual. Why didn’t they tell you the mere act of signing a piece of paper had so much significance?

That was a discovery best explored further through hands-on experience. Her juices flowed over his tongue as he drove deeper, added a finger to the party, swirled along her crease until she started bucking against his face and still she seemed to crave more.

He gave it to her, sliding a wet finger between her cheeks to toy with her while simultaneously working the nub at her pleasure center with his teeth. Her thighs clenched, and she rocked against his fingers, pushing them deeper, and then she came with a cry that vibrated through his gut.

That was not something he could possibly hear enough.

She sat up far before he would have said she’d had time to recover, pushed him free of her body and rolled him until she was on top. Looked like they were moving on. Noted. But he couldn’t find a thing to complain about as she straddled his hips. She’d never taken off her white strappy stilettos and she parked one on each side of his thighs, easing her center into a place just south of where he really wanted it, but that fit with his need to go slow, so he let her.

He’d teased up a flush along her cheeks and her beautiful peaked nipples rode high on her breasts. As she stared down at him from her perch, she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, with those pursed lips and a sated sheen in her eyes that he’d been personally responsible for putting there.

He wanted to do it again. And again.

And finally, he could. He reached for her, but she shook her head, clamping her thighs tight against him as she laced his fingers with hers to draw his hands away from her body. She weighed practically nothing and it would be an easy matter to break free, but he was kind of curious what she had in mind that required him to stay still.

He found out when she released his fingers to trail her own down his torso until she reached his groin. All the breath whooshed from his lungs as she palmed him to stroke downward with one hard thrust.

Fire tore through his body in a maelstrom of need.

His eyelids flew shut as he struggled to breathe, to hold it together, to keep from exploding right there in her hand. She wasn’t in a merciful mood obviously because she crawled backward to kneel over him, captured his gaze in her hot one, and licked him.

The sight of her pink tongue laving across his flesh nearly undid him. Then she sucked him fully into her mouth and he pulsed against her tongue and it was almost too much to hold back. He clawed back the release with some kind of superpower he had no idea he possessed.

Anti-Orgasm Man. He should get a T-shirt for his effort.

Except his wife had some powers of her own and worked him back into a frenzy in under a minute flat. This was going to be a very short honeymoon indeed if she didn’t stop this instant.

“Whoa, sweetheart,” he bit out hoarsely and tried to ease out from her mouth without catching his sensitized flesh on her teeth. She pushed him deeper into her throat in response, melting his bones in the process so it was really difficult to get his arms to work.

“Please,” he begged as she swirled her tongue counterclockwise so fast that he felt the answering lick of heat explode outward clear to his toes. His head fell backward against the bed as his legs tensed and he genuinely had no clue what he was begging her to do—stop or keep going.

She took the decision out of his hands by purring with him deep in her mouth and the vibration was the tipping point. The release rushed through his veins, gathered at the base of his spine and pushed from his body like a tsunami, eating everything in its path. She took it all and more, massaging him to a brilliant finish that wrung him out. Spent, he collapsed back on the mattress, too drained to move.

“That was for following the rules,” she told him with a smug laugh. “You deserve about ten more.”

If he’d known that was the prize for proving to himself and everyone else that he could go without sex, it might have made the whole moratorium a lot easier. Without opening his eyes, he nodded. “You have my permission to proceed.”

“Ha, I didn’t mean right this minute.”

She fell silent and the pause was so heavy that he opened his eyes. Roz was lounging on the bed between his thighs, decked out like a naked offering with one leg draped over his calf and an elbow crooked on the far side of his hip. It was the most erotic pose he’d ever seen in his life. And that was saying something considering the sizzle factor of the photograph she’d starred in.

“Thank you,” she said. “For what you said to my father.”

Her expression was so enigmatic, he couldn’t do anything but let his own gaze travel over it in search of clues for what he should say next. You’re welcome seemed highly lacking in weight given the catch he’d noted in her voice. Neither was this a conversation he wanted to have while in bed with a naked woman.

Except she wasn’t any garden-variety naked woman that he had no plans to see again.