The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance

by Natalie Knight

  And I was right.

  All of this bullshit and insane fuckery is Lock’s fault.

  If I ever get out of this situation, I’m going to kick his ass.

  Chapter 16

  Sammi

  10:17 PM FRIDAY

  Lock flips over his two cards with a smile that Mysti would say is ‘as wide as a Texas mile.’

  “Full house, mate.”

  The Thai man across the table is cursing and throwing his cards down on the table.

  I should be upset that I’ve lost, but I’m not.

  All the money on the table is going toward one thing, anyway.

  A big diamond to go on my finger.

  It’s why we’re here in some surprisingly ritzy underground gambling den.

  Liam told us that he knew the best place in Bangkok to get our card shark on and make some easy money.

  Easy money means big ring.

  Hell, I’m not even a big ring kind of woman. The size of the ring has never mattered to me. Yet tonight I feel like it’s time to go big or go home.

  It’s so unlike me—which is more than likely because of all the booze in me—to be this way. Hell, I’m so fucking giddy right now that I could explode.

  Got rid of some rotten Eggs—pun intended—and traded up to a hunky Aussie with a body sculpted from marble and the cock of my dreams.

  Tonight is the best fucking night I’ve ever had.

  I lean across the table and give Lock a view down my dress while he’s grabbing his winnings off the table.

  It takes him a second to realize, but when he sees me leaning over the green felt, I swear I hear his cock stiffen and hit the bottom of the table.

  “You know, Sams. Since it’s just us playing. How about we up the stakes a little, yeah?”

  Oh, I like the sound of this.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  He’s looking at me with his dreamy ocean blue eyes like I’m the only other person in the universe right now.

  It makes me feel like this is the real deal. Hell, it’s got me feeling like butterflies are riding roller coasters in my stomach.

  Though that last bit could be all the cobra tequila we’ve been drinking.

  “Let’s throw in some extra favors to be added to the pile with each bet, yeah?

  Oh, I love the sound of this.

  “Sexual favors?”

  He’s leaning back in his seat, and I see the wheels turning in his head.

  His hand slides across the table and grabs the lit cigarette sitting untouched in the ashtray. My pussy fucking throbs, and I feel like I’m about to cum right there when I see him lick his lips and slide the cigarette between them.

  I grab the carton of Thai cigarettes and light myself a smoke. That first taste of nicotine, and I feel this wave of euphoria wash over me. We haven’t even fucked—since arriving to this gambling den, that is—and I feel like I’m desperate need of that post-sex cigarette.

  Here’s the fucking kicker:

  I don’t smoke.

  Tried it once in university. Hated it.

  Right now, it’s tasting like fucking bliss, though.

  Liam yells in excitement across the room.

  “Ooohhhh. Good job, babe. Keep this up, and we’ll be able to buy the place,” Becky cheers him on.

  I’m taking a long drag off the cigarette as I turn to look over at them.

  Becky is sitting in Liam’s lap with her arms around his neck and her tongue down his throat.

  They really are a great couple. Becky has never been so happy.

  Liam’s opponents don’t look all that happy that they’re losing, though. Unlike Becky, they look like they’re pissed.

  Doesn’t look like they realize that Liam has been hustling them and counting cards the entire time.

  They say a sucker is born every minute. And Liam is taking to task five of them right now.

  I turn my eyes back to Lock, and he’s checking out my tits.

  I don’t blame him for it. In this dress and in this lighting, they look fucking amazing. I mean, they’re amazing anyway, of course, but they really pop right now.

  “You ready to play?”

  I’m ready to fuck! But I’ll play along for now.

  “Deal ‘em out.”

  Honestly, I’m horrible at fucking cards. The only reason I’ve done any good tonight is because I’ve been able to distract the other players with my tits.

  Like I said, they really pop in this dress and lighting.

  Lock is a different story. He’s not so easily distracted.

  And he knows all my tells.

  I get my two cards, and I lift them up just enough to peek at what I got.

  It’s shit.

  A fucking three of clubs and a nine of diamonds.

  He throws down a couple clay chips of different colors into the middle of the table.

  I don’t bother to pay attention to how much it is. It’s all for show at this point.

  “I’ll throw in tongue on clit action on top of that bet.”

  Now the real betting has started.

  I throw down a couple of chips.

  I like how they sound when they strike each other.

  “I’ll throw in a hand job.”

  It’s low stakes, but it is only the opening bet.

  A smirk comes across Lock’s face that only looks sexier through the haze of smoke between us. He’s plotting something.

  He flips over three cards.

  A two of hearts.

  No good.

  A jack of clubs.

  Still does shit to help me.

  A queen of clubs.

  And another useless card.

  The bright side is that Lock doesn’t look all that happy with the cards himself.

  But then why is he smirking like the Devil owes him a favor?

  He brings his hand up from under the table and lifts the cigarette from his lips.

  There’s a click in the back of my mind, and now I know why he’s smirking.

  My cunt is dripping wet, knowing that he’s been hands on with himself while we play. My panties are doing nothing to hold it back. I feel myself dripping down my thigh and onto the seat.

  Fuck this. No more games.

  “I’m all in. And if you win. I’ll let you titty-fuck me.”

  He leans across the felt table—through the haze of smoke—and I see the muscles of his arms bulging through his shirt. I’m almost convinced the fabric is going to rip from the strain.

  Lock looks me dead in the eyes, and I bite down on my lower lip. I do everything I can to fight back the urge to just have him fuck me right now on the table in front of everyone.

  But now he knows I’m bluffing.

  Fuck it. I don’t care anymore.

  I want—I need—to have his cock again. I need to feel it in my hands, in my mouth, between my tits, and—most importantly—in my soaking, aching, throbbing cunt

  He tosses over the last two cards on the table.

  Ace of spades and a king of hearts.

  Both of which are fucking useless for me. But I had no chance of winning anyway.

  “Show me what you’ve got.” His voice sounds as smooth as thirty-year-old scotch.

  And I know he tastes just as good, too.

  He doesn’t even offer a counter bet. He doesn’t need to. Lock knows he is going to have me.

  And it’s going to be fucking glorious.

  He flips over his cards.

  He’s got two queens in his hand to match the one on the table.

  I had no fucking chance.

  I flip over mine. I’ve got shit, but we knew that already.

  He stands up from the table. The end of the cigarette in his mouth glows a bright shade of red.

  “Ooops. Looks like I’ve lost.” I bat my eyelashes at him like I’m some innocent college girl.

  We both know I’m not, but I can see his cock twitch underneath his pants when I do it.

  He puts out his cigarette
, and I put out mine.

  Lock’s rough hands take mine, and I’m pulled up out of my seat.

  His eyes notice the small puddle on the faux leather.

  I hear this hushed growl come from his lips. It’s like lust and desire in a single noise.

  Everything in my body from the tits down clenches.

  If he makes that fucking noise again, my ovaries are going to explode like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  He pulls me away from the table. It seems that neither one of us give a shit about the pile of chips we leave behind.

  The chips. The money. The ring. None of that matters right now.

  Clothes need to come off, and I need to feel him.

  We pass by Mysti and her ladyboy. I give the two a quick look. Mysti is losing money fast. She’s pouting and whining—which is usual when things don’t go her way—but her new companion is trying to keep her spirits up.

  Percy is sitting on the lap of some old Thai guy in a pricey-looking suit. I don’t catch much of what they’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure that the guy is offering Percy money to marry him.

  Like a lot of money.

  Like seven figures kind of money.

  The most important thing about it all is that they are so wrapped up in their own little worlds that it will give Lock and me some time alone without them barging in on us.

  Lock and I find ourselves in the back of the gambling den.

  “In here.”

  He pulls back this sheer curtain, and my eyes feast upon this tiny hooka den. There are throw pillows everywhere, there’s a small velvet loveseat with no arms, and—of course—a small table with a fancy glass bong on it that’s ready to be used.

  We shut the curtain behind us and make it about half a step before we crash into each other’s arms.

  Lock’s hands slip down over my back, and he grabs my ass with authority.

  Our tongues slide against each other’s.

  It’s a mix of Singha, cobra tequila, and cigarettes all rolled into one. Most days it would be enough to make me want to vomit.

  Tonight, it’s the sexiest fucking taste to ever exist. Next to his cock, anyway.

  I’m lifted up into his arms. They make me feel safe and horny all at the same time. It’s quite the dichotomy.

  I feel weightless for a moment as he tosses me down onto the velvet couch. It gives way under my weight, and its softness feels amazing on my skin.

  Before me, Lock is undoing his pants.

  I slide the straps of my dress down over my shoulders and bare myself to him.

  The sound of his zipper coming undone has my mouth watering.

  The sight of his cock, throbbing before me, makes me lick my lips in hunger.

  “Time to pay up.”

  Fucking gladly.

  Chapter 17

  Lock

  10:32 PM FRIDAY

  The rings of smoke I’m blowing grow so big that they’re almost able to fit completely around her tits by the time they reach her. Instead, they crash against her soft, sandy colored skin like waves gently crashing against the shore.

  She leans forward and takes the head of my cock between her lips again. My thighs and knees twitch at the touch.

  Her nails glide over the skin of my legs and grab onto my arse. He nails press firmly against my skin while she uses me as leverage to force my cock deeper down her throat.

  The bubbling noise from the bong at my lips begins to drown out the soft gagging noises coming from her for a brief moment.

  I inhale sharply and breathe in the hooka that was left behind.

  Her grip on my arse loosens, and I look down in time to see her slowly releasing my dick from her welcoming mouth.

  She inhales sharply herself—now that her throat isn’t blocked by my cock—and looks up at me with her hungry eyes.

  A line of spit trails from the tip of my cock to her lips that she quickly sucks up.

  By God in fucking Heaven, this woman is amazing.

  A man has not lived until he has seen a woman like Sammi fucking Brighton with her lips around his cock.

  I look up to the ceiling and let a long stream of smoke out from my lips.

  Sammi grabs the bong from me and takes a sharp inhale of her own.

  I look down just in time to see her blow a couple of smoke rings over my cock.

  She leans forward just enough so that the tip of my cock is resting against her bottom lip.

  “So, how do I look with your cock in my mouth?”

  Her lips part and slide over the head of my dick. Her tongue swirls and maneuvers around me like I’m her own personal lollipop.

  Which—let’s face it, mate—I totally am.

  There is no way I’m ever going to tell Sams that she can’t have my cock whenever she wants it.

  “You look so fucking sexy.”

  She smiles and slides more of me into her throat.

  I grab the bong from her and bring it to my lips again.

  Sams takes the opportunity to cup my balls in one hand and stroke my slick cock with the other.

  I have never met a woman that can handle a cock quite like Sammi. That woman’s knowledge of how to turn a man into pudding using her hands and tongue is like a gift from God.

  I fumble as I set the bong down behind me somewhere. I don’t really care if it falls over. I just need my hands free.

  The slurping and sucking noises coming from her lips on my cock fill our small room, and I’m pretty sure that those outside can even hear it. Even over all the slot machines and idle chatter.

  Fuck it. Let them enjoy it.

  I feel this clench in the pit of my stomach just as I feel this ever-familiar chill in the base of spine.

  The muscles in my thighs flex and tighten. Even my breathing turns shallow.

  I’m so fucking close to the ledge of the abyss that I can reach out and grab it.

  There is a growl that comes from up from inside that I didn’t even realize I was capable of making.

  I stop everything. I push myself away from the open arms of release.

  I reach down and pull Sammi up from the velvet furniture.

  My hands take her face, and I pull her lips to mine.

  I can taste myself on her tongue. It makes the hunger that I have to indulge in her sweetness climb to new heights.

  “I need you to taste me.” Her voice is low—husky, even—and her eyes dance with lust.

  I’m more than happy to oblige.

  Hell, I’m outright craving it at this point.

  My hands push her dress up from her waist.

  Sams sits and lies back in the love seat, her eyes watching me as I pull my shirt off. Her thumbs slide under the waist of her black, lacy panties. She bites down on her lower lip.

  The lust and want coming from us both are tangible. But then, it is always is when we’re together. Almost as if a cosmic force beyond mortal comprehension keeps pushing us together.

  I soak in the image of her lying there. Her body is flawless.

  The flicking flames of the candles adorning the room have shadows dancing wondrously upon her warm flesh. The inside of her thighs gleam in the dim light from her desire.

  Neither Aphrodite nor Helen of Troy could have ever hoped to match her beauty.

  It’s a sight I never tire of. Nor could I.

  And the best part of it all?

  She is all mine.

  I slip down in between her thighs. My hands slide along the length of her legs with a light touch.

  My tongue slides out over my lips as I draw closer to her.

  Sammi’s scent fills me, and my cock throbs against the velvet beneath us of its own accord.

  I slide my tongue along the inside of her thighs first.

  She tastes of strawberries and honey. It’s a taste that I have developed an insatiable craving for.

  The soft moans that come from her lips spur me onward.

  I kiss her through the wet fabric until my lips are covered in her.
>
  My hands reach up over her legs, and I grab the lace. It doesn’t take much effort on my part to rip the black fabric from her body.

  There is a sharp inhale from her.

  A hungry moan follows when my tongue slides in between the folds of her wet cunt.

  I hum against her and move my tongue along the underside of her clit. Her hands move through my hair and grab on tightly. My tongue flicks at her clit firmly.

  She pulls on a fistful of my hair and moans as reward.

  I’m having to hold her firmly against the cushions. She begins to squirm beneath me at every lick of my tongue.

  “Don’t stop.”

  I don’t.

  After all these years, I’ve learned exactly what it is that gets Sammi going. I know where to kiss. Where to lick. Where to suck.

  I know the rhythm and tempo needed to send her crashing against the waves of ecstasy. I know it all.

  Every last detail of her wants, needs, and desires are known to me as I know my own.

  She never remembers any of it, mind you, but she will this time.

  We are getting married, after all.

  My intimate knowledge of her body pushes her over, and she succumbs to me.

  I can feel her flood over my lips and tongue. Her taste fills me.

  Eagerly, I lick at all of her. Every last drop that comes from her will be mine.

  Her grip on my hair tightens, and she lifts my face from between her thighs so that our eyes can meet.

  “Give me your cock. Fuck me. Now.”

  It sounds more like a desperate plea than an order.

  It sounds fucking hot regardless.

  I stand from behind her legs. She rolls over onto her stomach.

  My hands grab her by the waist and lift her up onto her knees.

  The base of my cock pulsates in my hand before my fingers even close around it.

  We both inhale sharply as I slip the head of my cock inside her.

  She is so incredibly hot, wet, and tight that I feel like I might cum right here and now.

  There is no easing into things.

  I’m thrusting into her so hard that the sound of our flesh slapping against each other floods the room. And she feels so good that I can’t even control the moans and growls I’m letting out.

  I’m grabbing her waist tighter and tighter with one hand. My other is wrapping her hair around my forearm and wrist.