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Before I know what I’m doing, my hand is sliding down my body and beneath my shorts and panties. My pussy is already soaked, and I can admit, it has a hell of a lot more to do with the scary, blue-eyed man than with Charlie. I swirl my fingers around my throbbing clit as I replay the vision of running into him and the way his muscular body felt against mine. I wish I knew his name. I wish I could have heard him speak more in that deep, rumbling voice. Shit, I wish I could bottle up his powerful dominance and savor it.
The more I think of our limited interaction, the more my brain runs with the idea of my mystery man and all the wicked things he could do to me. Something about his potent power and cocky energy combined with his deep voice has me imagining all sorts of fucked up scenarios. The way he made me feel trapped. The urge to run and the knowledge that he would absolutely chase me like the predator he is.
My clit throbs in time with my rapidly increasing heartbeat. I coat my fingers in my sticky wetness and glide down, swirling around my entrance before dipping one finger in. It’s not enough, it never is. I shove in a second finger as I replay the deep sound of his chuckle again and again. God, I can only imagine how fucking sexy that voice would sound as he called my name while balls deep in my pussy.
Would he say dirty shit as he pounded into my aching cunt from behind? Would he pull my hair and force me down onto the ground, or would he take me against a tree, using it to hold me up while he fucked my soul from my body?
My fingers pick up their pace, curving in search of that elusive spot that never fails to make me gush when I can find it. My fingers fumble around, twisting and bending without success. I quickly grow frustrated, losing my grasp on my fantasy. I wish I would have brought my toys with me. My tiny hands and fingers are never enough by themselves. I always,alwaysneed something else. Something deeper, more solid. Something with that sharp bite of pain.
My eyes flick open, and the pounding of my heart becomes damn near painful as it rattles my bones. The moonlight and dull flame in the fireplace cast a warm glow through the spacious room. I glance to my right, and a wave of nerves swirls through me as my mind takes a dark, needy turn. A turn that I happen to love.
I grin into the quiet darkness and shimmy out of my bottoms as excitement replaces nervousness. My hand darts out, snatching the empty wine bottle. My finger runs along the edge, collecting the small amounts of residual wine. I suck the droplets into my mouth and smile around my finger when I notice it still tastes like my pussy. I replace my fingers with the bottleneck, running my wet tongue along the cool glass, making sure it’s fully saturated with my saliva. Before the air can dry the bottle, I bring it down between my legs and spread my thighs wide. I exhale a ragged breath, focusing back on my mystery man as I coat it in my wetness.
I imagine the filthy things he’d say to me as he pinned me against the wall of the elevator. He’d circle one of his hands around my throat and lean into my ear. I imagine the way his hot breath would skitter across my cheek as he squeezed the air from my lungs.
“You want my cock, slut?”he’d murmur. I’d nod, my hands wrapped around his wrist, not to pull him away, but to keep him there as I clung to the sensation of his hot body against mine. “Take it then,” he’d grunt before slamming into me in one hard thrust.
I mimic the motion, shoving the neck of the bottle deep into my sopping-wet pussy. I suck in a sharp, silent breath at the too-full feeling and the sharp bite pain, but I don’t stop. I focus onhimas I fuck myself fast and hard. I’m relentless. My other hand comes down on my clit, and I barely stop myself from slapping it, needing the extra sensation but knowing I can’t be loud. I settle for pinching the throbbing bud while thrusting the glass deep.
“That’s it. Scream for me, baby. Cry for my cock.” His deep voice in my head has my legs shaking as I close in on my release.
I shift my grip on the bottle, tilting it upward to hit my g-spot. I picture the way he’d fuck me so hard and so fast, not caring about my pleasure as he chased his own release. The way he'd use me. The way his blue eyes would shutter at the way I feel wrapped around him. The way he’d treat me like a toy but look at me like I’m precious.
“Cum for me, Ray,” he’d murmur softly, his lips ghosting over mine.
I’d be so out of breath my lungs would ache and burn, but still, he wouldn’t stop pounding into me.Fuck.My pussy clenches around the bottle so hard I can barely move it an inch. My arm flies up to my mouth, and I bite down on my flesh just in time to muffle my screams of pleasure as I cum all over the wine bottle. I dig my teeth in so hard, I know I’m breaking through the skin. The pain spurs me on, pushing me into a second orgasm. I gush enough that my release trickles down between my ass cheeks and all over the sheets.
I lay there panting and shaking, my eyes staring blindly up at the ceiling. Holy shit,that was insane. I’ve never cum like that before. Especially never by myself.
When I can finally breathe properly, I pull the bottle from between my thighs. Sitting up, I flick on the light to inspect the damage on the sheets. My release coats the glass bottle and the bed. It’s tinged with red, and for a second, I worry I made myself bleed. Surprisingly, the thought only turns me on more. Glancing down, I take in the perfect red teeth marks on my arm. A dopey smile crosses my face. Shit. I almost forgot what it was like to have battle wounds from a good fucking.
Soon,the little voice in my head supplies.You’ll have it again soon.
Psh. One can only hope.
Chapter Five
“Ichooseyou,LoganHuxley,” Shiloh whispers, her voice thick and raspy as she cries. “I choose you as my friend, my partner, my husband. You are the father of my children, my future. I choose you now, and I’ll choose you, again and again, every day for the rest of our lives.” Tears stream down her cheeks, but they do nothing to dim her glow.
My heart squeezes as I watch my best friend of over ten years marry her new best friend. I know Logan’s not replacing me, and I honestly could not be happier that she’s found her other half. Shiloh deserves this, and from what she’s told me so does Logan. I have no doubt they will be together for the rest of their long, blissfully happy, lives. Logan grins, a tear streaking down his face as he stares at his bride. It's that tiny little thing that breaks my composure.
You said you wouldn’t cry, Rayvn.
Shit, I can’t help it. Something about seeing a big, hulking, rough man like Logan Huxley crying as he stares at the love of his life is enough to crack even the toughest of hearts. I tear my gaze from them and glance around the crowded backyard. Sure enough, there’s hardly a dry eye in the bunch. Everyone is riveted by the open and honest display of true love before them. My heart squeezes in my chest, and my hands clench both mine and Shiloh’s bouquets in response.
I will not think of myself. I will not worry about myself and my future.I will not, I will not, I will not,I chant.
To distract myself, I seek out Charlie, knowing he’s probably one of the few people here who’s not trapped under the happy couple’s spell. He stands behind Logan, next to Stephen. Like I’d assumed, Charlie has his usual grin plastered across his face, but he’s teetering to the left just enough to make me pretty positive that he’s likely tipsy, if not full-on buzzed. He winks at me, and I smile softly in return, aware of our audience.
Apparently, he’s over his silly embarrassment from the night before. If anyone should be feeling weird, it’s me. Not even five minutes after he’d left my room, I shoved a wine bottle up my pussy and fucked myself stupid. My thighs clench at the memory, and my eyes dart from Charlie’s, hoping he didn’t catch the movement. How cringy am I? I can’t be thinking aboutthat shitwhile standing in front of a hundred people at my best friend’s wedding.
Fucking hell, Rayvn. Get it together.
I force myself to focus back in on the nuptials and find Logan sliding a ring onto Shiloh’s offered hand. They’re both grinning like loons, and it’s clear they are giddy with happiness. It’s beautiful, it really is, but damn I seriously hate weddings. My skin crawls with the reminder of how many people I’m currently standing in front of and how many of them will likely try to talk to me after this. It’ll be like the rehearsal dinner on steroids.
I keep myhappy for the couplesmile plastered to my face as I glance around the yard. The Huxley property is mostly hundreds of acres of Pinetree’s, which makes the entire place smell like Christmas year-round. I bet Shiloh loves that. She’s a fan of the holidays. They set up the huge backyard area for both the ceremony and reception with an elegant, boho theme that fits them perfectly.
There are cream pillar candles in clear glass hurricanes on tree stumps lining the aisle, which is made up of eclectic rugs. Logan and his brothers built a geometric archway to stand beneath, and his mom crocheted a beautiful tapestry to hang from it as their backdrop. The reception tables are simple exposed wood with baby’s breath and hydrangea centerpieces, complete with gold accents. Somehow, everything looks thoroughly planned out and cohesive, despite the borderline shotgun wedding.
