Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Wow, this is incredible.”
“Nothing but the best for my wife.”
I turn and give him my back. “Want to help me out of this?”
“Not yet. Leave it on.”
I turnback to him and blink in surprise. “Really? It’s kind of cumbersome.”
“I like to see you in it. You’re gorgeous.”
The bedroom radiates romance. A large, low bed sits at the center, draped in crisp white sheets that shimmer in the soft light. Sheer curtains billow at the windows, swaying with the breeze. Fairy lights wrap around the bedposts, creating a cozy glow. Rose petals are scattered across the bed. Something I thought would make me roll my eyes, but here, it feels perfect.
A woven rug stretches beneath the bed, soft under my bare feet, and the wooden floor beneath is worn but warm, shaped by years of beachside living. A small table in the corner holds an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne, the glasses already waiting. Everything is arranged so deliberately, so perfectly. It’s clear that this night has been planned for just us.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so mad at Jess. She did an excellent job. This day has been perfect.
So far.
I step further inside, letting the warmth of the room mix with the cool ocean breeze against my skin. The world outside fades, leaving only Damien and me in this perfect little hideaway by the sea.
“Remember in my vows when I said how much I desire you?”
I nod, heart racing.
“I desire your body as well as your mind, and tonight I am claiming them both.” Damien’s eyes burn with an intensity as he appears over me on the bed. “Lie back against the pillows.”
I comply, my heart pounding.
“Good girl. Now hook your arms under your knees and hold yourself open for me.”
It takes some maneuvering with my dress, but I obey. “Like this?”
He nods, his gaze devouring the sight of my exposed pussy, glistening with arousal. “Fuck, I love seeing you like this. My bride. Pink, wet and open. Completely vulnerable.”
The position feels lewd, but his hungry stare erases any doubt in my mind. He is my husband now. “Damien, please…”
His smile makes me shiver as he positions himself between my spread thighs. “Is this what you want?” he asks in a husky whisper before dragging his tongue along my slit from entrance to clit.
“God, yes,” I gasp.
Never breaking eye contact, he laps at my pussy with slow strokes that make my legs tremble. The heat of his breath, the slick glide of his tongue, is so overwhelming.
I can’t hold back my moans as I watch this gorgeous man devour me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He teases mercilessly, licking everywhere except where I need it most until I’m trembling and desperate. “Please, Damien!”
Finally, he sucks my clit between his lips, applying an exquisite pressure that has me seeing stars. Mischief dances in his eyes as he watches my reactions, increasing the suction and speed of his tongue as I get closer to the edge.
His tongue is doing wicked things to me, and then he slides a finger—slick and wet—into my ass, and I buck my hips, gasping. It’s too much, but I need more. “Fuck! Yes, just like that,” I’m panting, now tugging at his hair to pull him even closer. Screw the dress. It’s already ruined.
With a particularly hard suck on my clit and an intense thrust of his finger, I shatter. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I arch my back, a strangled scream escaping my lips. “Oh God, yes!” I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me. But Damien doesn’t let up. He continues his sweet torture until another orgasm builds, slow and relentless. “Damien,” I warn breathlessly.
Suddenly, he pulls back, and I barely have time to register his movements before his tuxedo jacket hits the floor. Next, his shirt joins the pile and then he’s tossing his pants with the same force.
“Damien,” I breathe.
“Keep your dress on, Francesca,” he says, his eyes blazing with raw hunger. “I want my bride to look like a bride when I claim you as my wife.”
In one fluid motion, he’s inside me, filling me completely. My eyes widen at the sensation, but I bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape. Damien’s hands slide along my thighs, pushing the layers of tulle aside. His touch sears my skin as he begins to thrust, his movements both urgent and powerful.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, my nails digging into his broad shoulders. “Don’t stop,” I plead, my body arching to meet his.
I’m so sensitive that every movement feels magnified. When he fucks me like this, like nothing in the world matters, I feel cherished beyond measure. The restraint he’s showing, just to please me, is incredible.
“Fuck, Francesca. Mine,” he growls.