The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance

by Natalie Knight

  And if she doesn’t? I’ll make her fucking remember again.

  Her taste is still on my tongue, and she smiles mischievously down at me.

  Fuck. What I wouldn’t do for that smile.

  The monk starts speaking Thai again.

  Fuck if I know what he’s on about.

  To preserve the illusion, though, I pretend.

  “Sure thing, mate.” I say, unbuttoning my shirt as if that’s what he asked for.

  Given that he stops talking, it might well be.

  Imagine that.

  I stare into Sammi’s green eyes, making a show of removing my shirt. I unbutton it slowly, watching her bite her lip as I do.

  Those fucking gorgeous eyes skim over me, pausing again when they reach my dick.

  I’m rock hard, pushing so hard at the fabric of my pants, I think they might just rip.

  That’s what Sammi does to me.

  Only, right now, I don’t have to hide it.

  I drop my shirt onto the ground beside me, inclining my eyes to the floor. An invitation of sorts.

  Sammi looks up at the monk, clearly waiting for him to begin.

  He says something in Thai again, and I nod enthusiastically.

  Whatever the fuck he wants, he’ll have to figure it out himself. I’m a little busy at the moment.

  TAP!

  Holy fuck.

  Tap! Tap!

  I wince. Not at all prepared for the pain the races down my arm.

  “Oh, fuck me dead!” I curse, unable to hold it in.

  I immediately regret it, hearing Sammi’s laugh.

  “Really?” she asks, eyebrow arching. “Does it hurt that bad?”

  “No,” I say through gritted teeth, “juuuust kidding.”

  She giggles, but I’m sure she bought it.

  God, this hurts like an absolute bitch.

  Sammi drops to her knees in front of me.

  “Poor thing,” she coos, laughing at my fucking pain. “I can help with that.”

  The way she’s licking her lips, I’m fucking sure she can.

  Her hands make quick work of my belt, unlatching the buckle with ease. She looks up at me as she unzips my pants, her tongue getting her lips nice and wet for me.

  I hear the little moan that escapes those lips as she finally frees my cock.

  I’m fucking throbbing under her gaze.

  She grabs me firmly in one hand before sliding her tongue up the length of me, tasting every inch.

  Her lips slide over my head and she sucks hard, pulling my cock deeper into my mouth.

  At the same time, she pulls a moan from my lips.

  Which is fucking good, because it allows me to cover up the hiss of pain on my tongue as the monk’s needle sets my fucking bicep on fire.

  Sometimes, Sammi’s lips make it feel better. Sometimes, the contrast of Sammi’s movements only seem to make it worse.

  She pushes me deeper into her mouth, taking me in fully. Her tongue slides down my cock as she does, and I groan. I’d be in heaven right now if it weren’t for that wanker with the fucking rod.

  I should be the only wanker with a fucking rod in this establishment, dammit!

  I’ve had tattoos before. I’ve got the Aussie flag tatted proudly on my chest, don’t I? And the southern cross on my forearm to boot. I generally consider myself to be a pretty tough bloke…

  But Sammi made it look a hell of a lot easier.

  I reach out and grab a fistful of her hair, guiding her head, trying to block out the pain.

  TAP!

  “Oh, you fuckwit!” I yell, really beginning to hate this monk.

  Sammi pulls me free of her mouth with an audible pop.

  “You alright up there?” she asks, smirking.

  “I’m fucking great up here.” I say, trying again to hide my wince.

  Her laughter tells me I’ve not been successful.

  “I know,” she says, leaning back, “We can come up with your obligations.”

  “My obligations?”

  “Sure. All blessings come with obligations, Lock.”

  Shit.

  She’s got me there.

  “Well, let’s hear it then.”

  She taps her finger against her chin, looking up in contemplation.

  TAP!

  I bite my lip to stop my groan.

  “I’m thinking… I’ll need you to go down on me several times a day.”

  Bloody oath. Now we’re talking.

  She grabs my cock again, working it slowly in her hand.

  “And, of course, we’ll need to fuck daily as well.”

  She emphasizes this last by flicking her tongue across the head of my dick.

  God.

  “But more importantly,” she says, eyes still glued to my cock, “I want—”

  “FUCKING WANKER!” I scream, the evil monk hitting a particularly sensitive spot.

  I’m pretty sure this prick is intentionally trying to ruin this for me.

  “I want you to fucking beg me, Lock.”

  Fuck it.

  “Oh, I’ll fucking beg—”

  “I want you to need me—”

  “What I need is—”

  “Need my cunt, Lock. Need my mouth.”

  “I’ll need you as often as I can fucking get you, you little—”

  “Ache for me. Come for me. Give it to me, Lock!”

  “Marry me!” I growl, and that’s when it happens. I blow my fucking load—and I spray it all over Sammi’s gorgeous face. All the while, I’m repeating that line. Over and over again, until I’m not even thinking about the words. “Marry me, Sammi. Just fucking marry me!”

  Well, that wipes the laugh from her face.

  With the amount I just came, she’ll have a lot more than just laughter to wipe off her face now.

  I know I’ve just said something crazy. I know it’s ridiculous.

  I don’t regret it a fucking lick.

  In fact, never have words felt better in my mouth.

  The god-awful tapping finally comes to a stop, and with it, the pain.

  The monk says something that I take to mean he’s done.

  I don’t even spare him a glance.

  Sammi’s looking at me, her eyes different than I’ve ever seen them.

  “Marry me,” I repeat.

  There’s a long pause, the silence damn near palpable.

  She licks my cum off of her lips. It makes my breath catch in my fucking throat, just watching her do it.

  “Okay,” she finally says.

  “What?” I don’t think I’m hearing right.

  “Yes,” she says, sounding more certain. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  I grab her arms, pulling her to me in one swift movement.

  In the next second, my lips are on hers, kissing her for all I’m worth…and now my cum is on both of our faces.

  She kisses me back with surprising intensity, her hands clenched firmly in my hair.

  I’m touching every inch of her, my hands flying over her body like they’re possessed. I can’t get enough.

  Her hand snakes down, grabbing at my cock, still standing stiff outside of my pants.

  She slides down, her body pressing against mine as she does, until she’s once again on her knees before me.

  Her hand strokes me, shooting sparks of ecstasy through me.

  Now that I’m not being tortured with the damn tattoo rod, I can finally focus.

  She leans down to take my dick back into her mouth, hand still moving against me. I shouldn’t be hard again, but I am. I can’t fucking help it.

  My bride. Sammi Brighton is going to be my bride.

  She alternates between sucking on my head and flicking her tongue over it, moaning all the while.

  I hear similar sounds escaping me, and I reach down to grab her head once again.

  She’s fucking amazing.

  My fingers twine through her dark hair, pulling gently.

  Her t
its press against my knees, pushing up through the neckline of her dress.

  I’m completely enamored.

  She takes my cock deeper into her mouth, and it’s just too fucking much.

  I push myself further, feeling her lips meet up with her hand at the base of my cock. I thrust hard into her mouth, and she takes every inch of me without complaint.

  She pulls me free a moment before I finish, hand still stroking me hard.

  I hear her moans as my come sprays across her face like a fountain.

  Double fucking facial. It’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

  For a second, I just stare at her. Her tits are heaving, her dress has at some point hiked back up, giving me a perfect view of her pussy. She’s wearing my come with a fucking smile.

  Fucking Sammi.

  I pull her closer, my thumb wiping a line through the come that’s splashed across her face.

  She opens her mouth, tongue partially out.

  God, I love this woman.

  I take my time, staring into her eyes as I slowly slide my thumb down the length of her tongue, feeding my come to her.

  When I go back for more, she grabs me by the wrist, this time taking my thumb on her own, sucking every drop off of it.

  I feel myself getting hard all over again. Third time’s the charm, I guess…

  When her face is clean, she looks at me seriously.

  “So, we’re doing this?” she asks.

  “Fuck yes.”

  Her smile just about floors me. “Okay.”

  “Well let’s go get you a ring,” I say, standing with her in tow.

  Only one problem, I realize—I just blew all my money at the fucking cabaret.

  Shit.

  “We’re gonna need to get some cash first,” I say, “You think this place has an ATM?”

  I’m drawing a blank when I hear a commotion start up outside.

  “Alright,” Liam shouts, a moment before the door swings inward. “Come along, lovebirds. We need to go. NOW.”

  “What’s wrong?” Sammi asks, all business now.

  “Well, Mysti may or may not have stolen Buddha,” he says, voice threatening to crack with laughter. “And the monks are possibly now putting a curse on her because of it.”

  What the fuck?

  Sammi and I exchange incredulous looks.

  “Where to next?” I ask.

  Liam shrugs. “Fancy a gamble?”

  Fucking light bulb.

  I look at Sammi and see she’s thinking the same.

  She laughs, and the sound makes my heart pick up speed.

  I’m really gonna fucking marry her.

  “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 13

  Sammi

  12:29 PM SATURDAY

  By the time I finish retelling the memory, I’m cradling my head in my hands, ass firmly planted on the lush grass of the monastery.

  This is even worse than I thought.

  Fucking married? To Lock?

  No way. Couldn’t be.

  What the hell did I do last night?

  What the hell might have I done?

  It’s definitely been more than our ten allotted minutes now, but at the moment I’m finding it hard to care.

  Honestly, the way things are going, being forcibly removed from a monastery might be the high point of this trip.

  Becky and Liam disperse, clearly sensing that I need a minute here.

  Misty May’s not quite so perceptive at the moment, though.

  Somehow, despite all the implications of my latest flash black, Mysti seems to think she’s the one who really screwed up.

  She’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off, completely hysterical.

  “I’m fucking cursed?” she asks no one in particular. “Cursed! What kind of curse? Sweet baby Jesus, is my hair gonna fall out?”

  I don’t even have the energy to laugh.

  “Well, this is unacceptable! I’m gonna talk to someone. I’ll have it removed, that’s it! I’ll just apologize, and they’ll uncurse me!”

  She doesn’t wait for a response, which is great, because I have none to offer.

  She just storms off towards the nearest group of monks, legs quickly eating up the distance.

  Percy finds a spot and sits beside me, supportive but quiet.

  Fuck, I love her.

  It gives me time to think.

  Okay, so this is bad. Very bad.

  Though it might not yet be irreparable.

  I may or may not currently be married to an Australian with a bad attitude.

  And a magical tongue.

  I’ve definitely cheated on Eggs. Multiple times.

  I try to ignore the heat that flares up inside me at those specific memories.

  Fucking Lock.

  My only hope at this point is that we didn’t go through with the wedding. I mean, we were drunk out of our minds. Maybe we forgot?

  Either way, I have to know.

  It takes a great effort to lift my head, looking around as I do.

  Becky and Liam are half-hidden behind a reclining Buddha statue, making out.

  As if we have time for that.

  “Liam, Becky!”

  They turn toward me.

  “Can you remember where we went gambling last night? Think!”

  They both shake their heads, about what I was expecting.

  “Now that you mention it, though,” Liam says slowly, “I guess that would explain where all that Thai baht came from.”

  Great. Mystery solved, we can all go home now.

  I know what I need to do. Really, at the moment there’s only one thing I can do.

  Still, I hesitate a minute before pulling out my phone.

  Fuck.

  I take my time scrolling through the contacts. Truthfully, I’m hoping another plan will occur to me before I reach his name.

  No such luck.

  Screw it. I take a deep breath and press call.

  “Hello there, darl,” he says, voice dripping with charm.

  I’m not prepared for my own reaction, for the heat that surges through me at the sound of his voice.

  Now that I’ve remembered being with him, I don’t think I’ll soon forget.

  I shake my head, trying to clear the images forming there.

  “Lock, I need to know where we went gambling last night.”

  Short and to the point.

  “Well, that’s not a very nice greeting,” he says. “I was expecting an apology.”

  “Apology?”

  “Yeah, for throwing me out naked. Ring any bells?”

  I ignore the memory of him naked.

  “Just tell me.” I say.

  “Well, that’s no fun, is it? First, you tell me something.”

  I groan. “What?”

  “Remember anything good?”

  I can hear him smiling through the phone.

  It brings to mind an image of him on his knees, smiling up at me.

  My heart thumps hard in my chest.

  “I’m hanging up, Lock.”

  “Alright, alright, wait. See, the thing is, Sammi, I can’t tell you.”

  “What do you mean you can’t?”

  I feel the heat in my stomach putter out, smothered by the anger building there.

  He pauses too long, like an award show host who’s about to announce the winner.

  “What’s with the suspense, Lock?” I ask, frustrated beyond belief.

  “Look, darl, it’s proper dangerous. That’s all I’m gonna say. Even if I wanted to tell you where, I wouldn’t.”

  “What’s dangerous? Fuck, Lock, could you be any more dramatic?”

  “You can’t go back there,” he spits out, actually sounding serious for a change. “We, ah…we collectively fucked about there pretty thoroughly last night. If you’ve backtracked all the way to the gambling point of the night, you’ve likely realized by now—any place where our little party ended up last night, we’re not exactly welco
me again. Ring any bells?”

  I eye the Head Monk, currently standing at the top of a long set of stairs, gazing down at me like he’s ready to toss my ass off the mountain at any given moment.

  “One or two,” I admit.

  “Then you should understand that the gambling den is off limits—for you, Liam, and especially for Percy. It’s not safe.”

  “Lock, I’m going to figure this out one way or another. If something isn’t safe, maybe you should just come the fuck out with it.”

  Hopefully that’ll drive some sense into him.

  “All I’m gonna tell you, love, is you do not fuck with the Bangkok mafia. Understand?”

  Bangkok mafia.

  What fresh hell is this?

  “No. I do not understand.” I say, honestly.

  “You understand enough. Just drop it, okay?”

  “Fine. I will.”

  I won’t.

  “Good,” he says, back to dripping with charm. “Now, will you tell me what you remember?”

  I ignore his question completely.

  “Did we get married last night?” I ask instead.

  His laugh makes my blood boil.

  “So you do remember something!”

  “Just tell me.”

  Again with the long drawn out pause.

  “No,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll tell you. You’re a smart cookie, Sammi. I think I’ll just let you figure this one out on your own.”

  “Asshole.”

  I end the call.

  “No luck?” Percy asks from beside me.

  “Not much.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

  I look around for Becky and Liam, waving them over before reciting the gist of the call.

  Once they’re there, I launch into it.

  When I get to the part about the Bangkok mafia, the girls both look concerned. I can hardly blame them.

  Liam, on the other hand, breaks out into a huge grin.

  “What is it?” I ask him.

  “Bangkok mafia,” he laughs. “I’m a professional gambler. If you wanna gamble with the mafia, I know exactly where to go.”

  “Finally some good news,” I say, hope rekindling in my chest. “Well, let’s go then!”

  A normal person might shy away from a visit to the mafia.

  Not my gang.

  Percy stands, helping me to my feet.

  “Alright,” she says, “now we’re talkin’. Let’s grab Misty and get the hell out of here!”

  I spot her immediately, across the ground and practically surrounded by monks.