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I rolled my eyes and laughed at how excited he got. As if he couldn’t see my tits whenever he wanted. “Find their cards.”
While Hale rummaged through the various piles for the Lockharts, I sat up on my knees and unclasped my bra. The room had chilled and my nipples instantly puckered as the lace fell away.
He held out the cards and I knew we were done. Keeping my eyes on him, I tossed the cards onto the appropriate pile. “Nice work, Mr. Davenport.”
He groaned. “You know it drives me mad when you look up at me like that. No more wedding stuff tonight.”
“Good, because I was hoping we could practice for the honeymoon.”
His nostrils flared and his hand went to the bulge in his pants, the zipper slowly lowering. “Crawl your sexy ass over here, Ms. Meyers.”
I grinned and dropped to my hands and knees, creeping slowly across the room in what I hoped was a sexy crawl. Hale walked backward, safely away from the cards. One strong breeze and all of our work could be ruined.
I laughed when he kept going. “How far do you plan to go?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know. I like watching you crawl to me.”
“The sooner I reach you the sooner you get my mouth around Prince Everhard.”
He stopped walking immediately and I closed the distance.
Seconds later, his hand was tangled in my hair as I took him to the back of my throat. He was bossy and demanding, but I didn’t mind. When Hale had control, I could let go. The weight of worries and stress lifted as he told me exactly what to do, and I obeyed, happy to take care of him.
In the end, he always saw to my pleasure as much as I saw to his, so it was a win-win. I got off on his praise, and he got off on my surrender. It was the perfect give and take, a beautiful interchange of desire and trust that satisfied both of us in countless ways.
His fingers caressed my cheek as he watched me. “Such a good girl.”
I literally preened when he talked to me like that, and he reaped all the rewards that came with dishing out such praise.
Then he dragged his fingers down to my throat, tracing the bulge there, and said something I’d never heard him say during sex before and my panties were ruined. “Show me what a good fucking wife you’re going to be.”
Something came over me in that moment and I graduated from exceptional to advanced placement honors. I was his, but soon I’d be more than that. I’d be his good fucking wife. And he would be my husband for all of eternity.
When he was close to finishing, my mouth released him. Gasping and panting, I looked up at him with tear-dampened lashes and swollen lips. Arching back, I let him use my body as a blank palette. His fist worked over his flesh and he grunted, holding me by the hair as he dragged my mouth back to his cock. “Take it like a sacrament.”
His attention and desire hit like a sacred blessing as I opened for him. Heat spilled over my tongue and down my chin, trickling to my breasts.
His grip in my hair loosened and he gently caressed my throat. “Show me.”
I licked over my swollen lips and swallowed, then showed him it was all gone.
His gaze dropped to my breasts. He swiped up a small drop and fed it into my mouth. “You missed a spot.”
I sucked his finger clean and he groaned.
“You’re going to be such a good fucking wife.”
I rose on shaky legs and he kissed me, all his aggression and lust shifting into love and adoration. He led me upstairs and tucked me into bed.
“I need a shower.” He kissed the top of my head. “I can’t wait to see you walking down the aisle those last few minutes before you’re officially mine.”
I envisioned that moment, sharing his excitement, until dark inadequacy swept in, destroying the sweet image. While Hale waited at the altar, the perfect picture of tradition and luxury, I would be facing him and all the guests completely alone. A cold void pushed a shiver through my body.
He frowned, so in tune with my emotions he sensed the shift in me. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I lied, nudging him toward the bathroom. “Just tired. Go shower.”
As soon as the water turned on and I knew I was alone, the wave of inadequacy swallowed me whole. Brides were escorted by their fathers. Given away from one significant man to another. Sure, it was a dated and sexist tradition that held no real implication nowadays, but the symbolic gesture remained a part of American wedding culture, and I found myself wanting my dad’s presence with a fierceness that rivaled every milestone that had come before.
