His eyes fall half-closed for a moment, and a low groan sounds from the back of his throat, before he catches himself. “Is this what you’re hungry for, kitten?” he murmurs, low and throaty in a way I’ve never heard him sound before. His voice, pitched at that level, makes my toes curl. “You want your husband’s cock inside you?”
“Fuck yes,” I breathe. At the same time, I tighten my grip around his shaft and start to stroke him, slowly back and forth, savoring the velvet slide of his skin between my fingers, and the hard steel of his shaft beneath. I lean back against the window, and gasp when Luke presses one hand flat against my belly, only to slide it down, over my stomach, to press against the mound above my pussy.
“Let’s see how wet my wife is for her husband.” Luke slides his hand between my thighs, and with deft fingers, he parts my pussy lips.
They make a slick sound, and he smiles, one fingertip sliding between my lips to stroke along my slit. I gasp, feeling his thick finger press between my lips, especially when he starts to slide the tip of his finger back and forth, collecting moisture.
“You are a hungry girl.” Luke locks eyes with me and brings his fingertip up to his own mouth. He slips it into his mouth and licks my juices from his fingertip, in a move that makes me shiver with lust. His eyes grow hotter, dark with want, as he arches his body against mine. His cock presses against my belly, and I can feel a drop of precum gathered there smear across my bare skin. “Spread your legs for me, wife.”
I spread my legs wide and let a moan escape as Luke starts to stroke my slit, back and forth. His finger toys around the edge of my pussy, before, with one last grin at me, he presses his finger into me. I gasp, my eyes widening, as he presses his finger deeper. He feels so fucking good. So thick inside me. “Oh, right there,” I gasp, when his fingertip glides across my sensitive G-spot.
His smile widens. “So nice and wet for me. Wet, and tight, and…” He strokes that spot again, and another little desperate moan escapes me. “Hungry.”
“Yes,” I pant, hardly aware of my mouth moving. “Yes, I’m hungry for you. Hungry for my husband’s cock.” I reach out for him again, but he doesn’t give me time to stroke him this time. He catches my hands in his, both wrists in his one free hand, and slowly lifts them up over my head, before his lips find mine again, searing hot.
His tongue invades my mouth, tasting me, claiming me. He pins me against the cool glass window, and I know that outside there must be people on the lawns, in the pool, on the beach. I wonder if they can see me up here, my naked ass pressed against this window. I realize I don’t even care. All I want is for Luke to make me moan again.
But he draws his finger out of me, and my lips part as I gasp in protest.
“Do you want more, wife?” His eyes lock onto mine, white hot.
“Yes. Fuck yes.” I can’t look away from him.
“Are you sure?” He’s smiling. Taunting me.
“Please. Please fuck me.” I don’t care that I’m begging. I want him. I’m done waiting.
His smile widens. “Anything for my wife.” He reaches down to grasp the base of his cock and guides himself to my entrance. The tip of his shaft presses between my lips, against my entrance. He hesitates there, head tilted, as if thinking about something. “Do you want me to use a condom?” he asks, watching me.
My heart skips. I’m on birth control, and besides, in this fantasy, we’re married. “You’re my husband,” I say. “I want to feel every inch of you.”
“Good,” he whispers. Then he arches his hips, and I cry out as his cock drives into my pussy, stretching my walls around him. “Because I want to fuck my wife raw.”
Fuck. He’s even bigger than he felt in my hands. But oh, god, he feels good, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into me. He pulls my body against his, his muscles searing hot, and he reaches down to lift up my thigh.
I raise my leg, wrapping it around his waist, and he drops my hands to catch my other thigh too. Then he lifts me up beneath him, and I wrap both legs around his waist, until he’s holding me in midair, naked, pinned with my shoulders against the window.
The motion makes his cock drive deeper into me, until he’s buried fully inside me, in one sharp motion that makes my head fall back as I moan with pleasure. “Fuck yes, husband, right there.”
“You like feeling that?” he whispers into the crook of my neck. He draws back a little, then thrusts into me again, and I savor every inch of him, the way his cock strains my walls, makes me feel so fucking full. “You like my cock inside you, kitten? Who knew you were so damn dirty?” He grins at me, and I grin back, knowing my gaze is as hot and hungry as his.
“You did, when you married me,” I whisper, and he laughs, kissing me one more time, slow and hot, before he starts to fuck me in earnest.
He pulls out of me and drives back in with enough force to make me gasp every time. I wrap both arms around his shoulders for balance, my nails digging into his back as I cling to him. He moves faster, drives into me harder, arching upward so that his cock drags along my inner walls with every stroke, driving me wild. When he runs his tip along my G-spot, it’s all I can do not to come on the spot. I find myself panting, begging him for more, and he just smiles the whole time, watching me, encouraging me.
“That’s it, kitten, moan for me. Louder.”
I remember what he told me about being competitive, and I’m surprised to realize how hot the idea makes me. The idea that other people will hear us, know exactly what we’re doing in here. I want them to hear, I realize. I want them to know that I’m Luke’s and he’s mine, at least for this weekend, damn it.
“Fuck yes, right there, fuck,” I cry out, my voice going louder, sharper.
“Are you going to come for me, kitten?” he asks, his voice louder too.
“Let me come for you, husband, please,” I pant.
He finds a steady rhythm, pounding into me again and again, angled so his cock drags right along my G-spot every time. It doesn’t take long for the pressure to build so high I can hardly contain it, but then— “Not until I tell you to, kitten,” he orders, and I can’t help it. A faint cry of frustration escapes me.
He chuckles. “Ask me nicely.”
“Please.” My voice is hot and low near his ear. “Please, husband, I want to come for you. Let me come on your thick cock.”
“Louder.” He teases me again and again, taking me right up to the brink and making me beg at the top of my lungs before, with a smile that could break my heart, he relents. “Good girl, Celia. Come for me now.”
It’s all I can do not to burst. I scream with pleasure and relief all mixed together, as I finally let the orgasm sweep through me. My whole body shakes from the force of it, but Luke just keeps going, fucking me against the window, my bare ass gripped tight in his hands. Before long, I’m near the edge again. This time, he holds me up with one hand and reaches around with the other to slide down and press his thumb against my clit.
It’s too much. I can’t even ask him for permission this time. I scream as the orgasm sweeps through my body, making sparks appear at the edges of my vision. My toes curl, and my legs shake around his waist. My pussy convulses around his shaft. I’m barely able to cling to him, but I manage to, and then I lean in to kiss his neck, the side of his jaw. I hold on tight as he starts to fuck me harder, faster, clearly nearing the edge himself.
“Come for me, husband,” I tell him, purposefully tightening the muscles in my pussy to clench hard around him. “Come for your wife.”
“Celia.” He calls out my name as he finishes, coming deep inside me. I can feel his hot juices spill into me, mixing with my own, and I cry out in pleasure, feeling how close he is to me, how tightly pressed together we are. When he finally steps back and releases my legs, just enough to pull his cock out of me, and let me stand back upright, I stagger a step, and he has to catch me, laughing, around the waist.
I can feel his juices spilling out of me, trickling down my inner thighs. God it�
�s fucking hot. I tilt my head back to look at him, my eyes half-hooded with lust, and he leans in to claim my mouth in another slow, searing kiss.
“You are the perfect wife,” he whispers when we break apart.
My heart skips a beat. I never knew how much I wanted to hear him say those words. But even now, still trembling from the feeling of his cock inside me, I can’t help but wonder how long this can possibly last.
5
I shower first, mostly because if I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll be able to clear my head enough from that orgasm to function. I make the water hot and let it wash all traces of sex away, even though I swear my skin still smells like him. I stick my face under the stream and pray for it to wash away the dirty thoughts that won’t stop invading. Thoughts of everything else I’d like him to do to me next.
If that was only the practice run, I can’t imagine what Luke has in store for later tonight…
Finally, when my skin has turned red from the heat of the water, and I smell like the hotel soap, a delicious lavender scent, I step back out of the stream and towel myself off. I already picked out a different outfit, a skirt and blouse that are a little fancier than the sundress I traveled in this morning. Besides, that’s wrinkled on the floor by the window. And the panties I was wearing are soaked through, so I change those too. I hope I packed enough pairs of panties for the weekend, or I’m going to wind up going commando at some point.
My belly tightens at the thought of that, and at the thought of what Luke would do if he found me panty-less on some outing this weekend. I drive dangerous thoughts of his lips and fingers from my mind, and hurriedly get dressed. Back out in our room, I catch Luke still naked, smirking as he leans against the window and watches me exit the bathroom. Unless I’m mistaken, he looks a little disappointed I’m dressed already.
But, “My turn,” is all he says, and he crosses into the bathroom next. I’m still drying off on the bed when there’s a knock at the door. I go to answer it and freeze at the unfamiliar face on the other side.
“Oh, uh…” It’s a guy I’ve never met, handsome enough in his own way, though he can’t hold a candle to Luke.
The guy’s face, on the other hand, brightens with recognition. “You must be Mrs. Rossfield, right?” My heart skips a beat at the words. Especially when he adds, “Luke’s told me so much about you.” He sticks out a hand, and I stare at it for a beat, before I spot the woman beside him, also smiling. “I’m Paul,” he adds, and it all clicks now.
“Celia,” I say. “Nice to meet you. Luke’s just getting ready.”
“This is my fiancée, Meghan.” Paul gestures over his shoulder, but Meghan’s already sweeping past him into the room to hug me.
“So nice to meet you! I can’t believe you managed to tie down the infamous Luke Rossfield.” Meghan swats my arm with a playful smile. “You must be every bit as amazing as Luke claims.”
I laugh, wondering for the first time exactly what Luke told his friend about me. Did he make it all up? Or did he really tell them about me and just invent the marriage part? “I’ve heard great things about you both too,” I say, mostly just to buy time. To be fair, Luke did say a lot of nice things about Paul, and that anyone who caught his friend’s eye for the long-term must be special.
Luckily, I’m saved by the sound of the water shutting off, and moment later, Luke sticks his head out, a towel wrapped around his waist. “Paul! I thought that was you. Give me a minute.”
“Your room is amazing.” Meghan is pacing around it, wide-eyed with appreciative awe. I’m glad. It means I’m not the only one who’s not used to staying in places like this one.
“Check out the view.” I demonstrate, to the sound of appreciative gasps, while behind us, Luke steps out of the bathroom, fully dressed this time in a pair of jeans and a loose button-down shirt, the top few buttons undone. Still, he manages to make me catch my breath, even dressed casually like that. He looks like he just walked out of a catalogue and into our room. I watch with appreciation as he grabs Paul in one of those tight, back-slapping hugs guys love.
Meghan catches me watching, and grins. “So the shine doesn’t wear off once you’re married? That’s good to know.” She glances down at her hand, where she’s wearing a diamond almost as large as the one Luke bought me. I remember what Luke said, about Meghan and Paul’s wedding coming up soon.
My throat tightens a little. I feel guilty, suddenly, about pretending to be some kind of wise married woman who could dispense advice. I don’t know what I’m talking about—I’m just here playing pretend. But I force a smile anyway. “I find it hard to imagine a time when it could, to be honest,” I say, because it’s the most truthful thing I can.
Meghan sighs and smiles back happily. “I know what you mean.” I catch her eying Paul in the same way, like she’s drinking him in. It makes my smile turn genuine. “You know, I used to never think I’d settle down?” Meghan confides. She flashes me a sly grin. “I used to be kind of a wild child. But then I met Paul, and it was like… oh. Yeah. I could do this, with him.”
“Trust me, that I understand.” I fight back a smile as I turn to find the guys waving us over.
“We’re going for drinks, come on.” Luke waits until I reach his side, and then slings an arm around my shoulders, tugging me against his side in a casual gesture that sends my heart leaping into my throat. He acts like we’ve done this a million times before, and I love the feeling.
“So how did a guy like you wind up with such a stunner?” Paul jokes, flashing me a quick wink as he takes Meghan’s hand, with the kind of ease that makes me smile to see. They’re a good match, the two of them. Easy with one another, relaxed. Plus, I can tell from the appreciative glances Paul keeps shooting his fiancée’s way, they’re both head over heels for one another. It’s adorable.
Inspiring.
I elbow Luke, smirking. “Yeah, how did you win me over, exactly?”
He gazes down at me, eyes alight with mischief, as we trail the others into the hallway and down toward the bank of elevators. “Well, it was in a similar resort to this one, actually, wasn’t it, Celia? We’d been working together for a long time—”
Meghan fakes a scandalized gasp. “Ooh, so it was forbidden office love, then?”
“Something like that.” Luke grins. “But then one weekend, we were finally able to get away from the pressures of work, and just be ourselves with one another. I kissed her in the elevator, and that was that. Right, Celia?”
My cheeks flare bright red. Does he mean now? But he can’t. This is all just part of the charade, isn’t it? He needed a convincing story for Paul, so he used our real one, cleverly disguised. I force myself to smile easily, playing along. “Of course. Though, you’re leaving out the part with the mind-blowing sex.”
He said he’s competitive with his friends, after all.
Paul and Meghan burst into laughter. Luke leans in to kiss my cheek. “Trust me, I would never forget that part.” His gaze bores into mine for a moment, until the elevator doors ding open, breaking the tension. “I was just saving the best part of the story for last.”
The four of us pile into the elevator—the same one Luke and I kissed in not so long ago—and Meghan glances around us. “So, the mind-blowing sex—did that happen in the same elevator where you guys made out, or…?”
“Should we be careful which elevator we take in here?” Paul jokes, and all of us laugh.
When we reach the ground floor, we take a walk around the property first. There’s even more to the hotel than we were able to see from our suite’s windows. We pass tennis courts, a squash area, even an on-site vineyard, where you can go pick your own grapes, and learn more about wine processing from the hotel’s vintners. There’s also a full-service spa area that looks huge.
Meghan flashes me a grin when we pass that. “You and I are definitely coming back here at some point,” she promises.
Finally, we reach the bar, set on the farthest side of the hotel from us. It b
utts right up against the cliff above the beachfront. There’s a set of stairs near the bar that lead down to the beach, and the building itself sits close to the edge so that from the table we secure, we have a stunning view out over the sea. Down below on the beach, we spot people sunbathing, and a few intrepid surfers out battling waves in the deeper water.
Luke’s the perfect gentleman, pulling out my chair for me and ordering on all of our behalf, since he’s the most familiar with the wine list in this region. He’s always been like this, even at work events, but I’ve never appreciated it as much as I do now, with the full force of his manners trained on me.
It makes me feel special in a way no guy ever has before. I can’t remember the last time I felt like a real lady on a date, much less a pampered one.
It doesn’t hurt that, as we’re settling in after ordering, Luke scoots my chair closer to his, and slides one hand over to rest on my knee, underneath the table. His palm is warm against my skin, his fingers curled lightly around my thigh, a reminder of what we just did in our hotel room not so long ago. A reminder of how those fingers felt inside me, as he pushed my back up against the window.
I feel my breath hitch, and I know I’m starting to get wet again just remembering it. I try to think about something, anything, else. At the same time, though, I reach down to rest one hand over Luke’s, curling my fingers around his as I lean in to listen to Paul’s story, about how he proposed to Meghan. It’s a cute story, in which they were on vacation in the Swiss Alps, and he was trying and failing to teach her to ski, and he worried his whole proposal idea was going to be ruined because she just wanted to go back inside and nap instead of taking the lift up to where he’d planned the thing.
But the whole time, Luke’s hand inches higher up my leg, and it’s all I can do to keep my gaze fixed on Paul and Meghan, my smile normal, as we both try to pretend nothing out of the ordinary is happening here.
Marry Me Now: An Arranged Marriage Collection Page 19