One Night Bride

by Sarah J. Brooks

  I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what was to come.

  “Look at me, Arcadia,” Xavier commanded. “I want to make love to you; remember we aren’t fucking. I want you here with me.” His voice was tender and caring. “That way I’ll know if you’re really okay.”

  My eyes popped open to his beautiful stare. “I’m here Xavier,” I said my eyes connecting with his, rooting into his soul.

  “There you are.”

  My legs were shaking and quivering as he pulsed his body into me with more force and speed. My back arched again as I bit down on my lower lip. Again, he pulled out and pressed in and again, leaning more heavily on me as he began thrusting in earnest. He would have stopped if I’d asked him; I knew I could stop him, but he was mostly lost in his own pleasure. His eyes, still connected to mine were glazed over with desire as he moved his body in closer, thrusting more deeply every time. It was painful, but I loved how he filled me.

  My head rolled back, not wanting to break our gaze, but I was seeing stars as his thrusts became more fervent. There was no escaping this, we were in it. In and out, slicing, hard, deep, and wide. I could barely stay conscious my mind was in such a roar.

  I hadn’t expected him to be so heavy. He was well-built, perfectly muscled, and his body was chiseled to Adonis-like perfection, but he was heavy on my small frame. I tried to hold him up the best I could, but when he pumped into me, again and again, I felt everything in my mind was splintering and cracking. I didn’t want to come right then, but I was going to shatter. He sensed me, knew I was so close, and he stilled, the sweat of his body dripping onto mine, his heavy breaths in my ear. I yelped a little in pain and needed to get my bearings again.

  “What are you doing to me, Arcadia?” he asked more to himself than me.

  My legs gently wrapped around his wet back and ass. I took a few deep breaths, letting the burn within me cool. My hands softly smoothed along his wet back, massaging his taut muscles.

  “I’m okay; it’s okay, you can go again.” I smiled and kissed his shoulder.

  He shook his head. “You bring out the monster in me,” he said with a laugh.

  “I like it.” I smiled, easing his embarrassment.

  He kissed my lips, his cock still lodged deep inside of me as he looked at me with so much wonder and, I’d even to venture to guess, love. I felt warm and whole. I wiggled on his cock, trying to get him going again. He growled and nipped my neck.

  “Vixen,” he breathed as he pulled out and slid back in; this time his cock hit every sensitive and ravaged nerve in my vagina, but he hit a spot that blinded me with pleasure; I gripped him, mewling.

  “There it is.” He smiled and ground down into the spot once more, hitting it over and over again.

  In and out, with slow gyrations, hitting the spot, missing the spot, heavy thrusts, jettisoning pulses. I was unraveling. My world started spinning as the swirl in my belly entwined everything within me. My legs squeezed onto him as much as I could. His movements began to go faster and faster until I was burning everywhere. I couldn’t hold back this time. My world shattered as I screamed out. My pussy clenched his cock and wouldn’t let go, sucking the milk from it. I blistered and burned, grabbing his ass, pushing him deeper into me.

  “Holy fuck, Arcadia!” he yelped as his body shivered and bucked, hammering deeper and faster into mine.

  His weight pressed upon me more, and all I wanted was to enfold him in me forever. I heard him whimper. It wasn’t a manly sound; it was the sound of a man who’d given himself over completely to the throes of ecstasy. My pussy clenched harder, and he bucked more, spilling himself out entirely. Sweat dripped from his brow as his face was the pained expression of his thrall. One last sweet involuntary buck, and he slumped on me, gathering my legs up around him, breathing hard.

  I regretted the condom he was wearing. I wanted to feel his release inside of me. I wanted it dripping out between my legs as if I had been forever claimed. I’d never let a man come inside of me, but I thought about how nice it would feel if he was home. If he was my safe place; my husband. A wash of sadness breezed over me.

  Just enjoy the moment, Arcadia.

  I tried, but I couldn’t shake that sadness, so for a moment, I let myself regret that I wasn’t his real wife as his passions stilled.

  Chapter 7

  Xavier

  We laid with each other breathing in each other’s breath, hot sweaty skin dripping on the sheets. I couldn’t think; my mind was a scramble. I felt her small toned body beneath me, my cock still sheathed inside of her. I was wrong, she wasn’t a nymph, she was a goddess. I didn’t want to leave the warmth of her body, even as my dick softened inside of her. Even as I felt the dampness of the saturated condom on my skin. I was reluctant to pull myself out of her. She was so tight, so mind-numbingly tight. I could stay in her without any effort, and so I let us lie together, just being in this incredible space with each other.

  I turned to her sweet face, so beautiful and flushed with afterglow. Thank you,” I said kissing her lips.

  She looked surprised. “It’s I who should be thanking you,” she breathed, her hand making tiny circles on my chest.

  God, if she didn’t send electricity to my tired and raved cock. I was usually good for another go pretty quickly after the first, but I hadn’t had such a powerful orgasm for a long time. I doubted I could rev back into action as quickly this time.

  My hand grazed across her perfect ass, tugging her nearer to me as I slowly withdrew from the most glorious pussy I could remember. Her face curled into a frown, and I kissed her pouting lips as I felt the loss of her warmth. She cried out a little in pain when I finally pulled my head out of her.

  “That was fun,” she flirted as her hands slid down my cock and gently stripped my condom off.

  It was heavy with my seed, and I was happy to be free of it. She must’ve known how much my raw and ravaged cock wanted to breathe and feel again. She tied up the condom which was filled with cum, rolled over and lobbed it into the trash.

  “Bye-bye,” she joked as she tossed my sperm away. It was so sweet.

  I didn’t sense even a hint of the crazy I’d seen in other girls, the ones that begged me for a child or clung to me after sex hoping for what Arcadia had; a wedding ring and my name. I did, though, sense a tinge of regret, perhaps not for taking this adventure together, but for it not being anything more than just a drunken interlude.

  I smoothed my hands across her back bringing her into me, not wanting any of this to end.

  “Are you on birth control?” I asked, probably too late. I would’ve used a condom regardless, but I wanted to communicate with her; know her, have the conversation if we had to.

  “No, it’s good we used protection; I would have regardless.” She smiled, trying to cover her feelings.

  “Do you want children one day?” What a stupid, dangerous question. I had no idea why I asked it, it was just, she looked so sad. Maybe I was sad too. I wasn’t sure.

  “Of course,” she said smiling, “when the time is right.” She then hesitated. “With the right person.” She cocked her head, knowing reality could hurt. “What about you?”

  I assumed she asked more out of politeness as I didn’t read any digging or pinning in her question. “I’m not sure,” I said, and I wasn’t. It was never something I’d considered.

  Lauren and I would have had a child most likely, but we were both so busy. I never expected us not to be busy, so the question never came up. After she was gone, I wished we had had a child, then I would’ve still been able to see her face. The idea pained me. Arcadia noticed the pain.

  “You’re so busy; I’m sure kids aren’t something you think about.” Arcadia was drifting away.

  We were slipping into our roles again: famous fashion designer and the hot piece of surfer/scientist ass he culled for the night. I didn’t want that, especially not for her.

  “Maybe with the right person as you said,” I lightened the mood by rolling o
nto her, the uncomfortable conversation somehow firing up my greedy cock again.

  It was probably three in the morning. The night had a lazy kind of stillness about it. The witching hour some called it. I didn’t know what she had planned for the next day. I knew Damon had some abysmal bachelor party shit to cover, which I now had less interest in than I did before. Really, my whole reason coming to Vegas was to get a sit down with him and make sure he was really marrying the woman of his dreams; I doubted it.

  “Do you have to be anywhere in particular tomorrow?” I asked hoping she’d be free to spend the day with me. “I guess today since it’s already morning.”

  I’d gladly blow off Damon for Arcadia if she was free. I was an ass to think I could stop his wedding anyway.

  “My dad keeps blowing up my phone. He wants me to meet this client, but I just, I don’t know,” she trailed off, creating a greater distance between us.

  “Don’t know what? Do you think your dad is playing matchmaker?” I teased, flicking her pert and beautiful nipple with my finger. “If so, he’s too late, you’re already married.” I hoped the teasing would brighten her up, but she just took a deep breath; damn.

  “I guess, I’m not sure.” Her eyes cast downward. “He was rather insistent.”

  “Are you going to go?” I asked, worried. “I mean what time?” I straightened up, recovering my dominance. “I want to make sure you get some rest.” No, I didn’t. I didn’t want her to rest; I wanted to make love to her until we both passed out.

  Already my cock was roaring for round two.

  Her face fell. “I don’t know; it’s too late to ask. I just … I’m not sure; maybe I won’t go.” She seemed so stressed and worried, definitely daddy drama there; poor kid.

  I wanted to love that pain away, for sure.

  “Well, I have horrible bachelor party things to do later in the day, which I will most likely also blow off or drag you around to if you decide to ditch your dad again.” I smiled wide and hard, mentally channeling a command to ditch her father, perhaps for good.

  She laughed. “I’d definitely ditch my dad for another day with you.” She finally looked cheery again.

  “Maybe even more than that,” I said as I kissed her temple. Her sweet face melted as my hand cupped her cheek; I could get used to this.

  I was happy I wasn’t drunk anymore, but still hazy, mostly from being enthralled with the little surfer-scientist. She was delightful.

  “How are you feeling?” I truly wondered as my hand found her incredible pussy again, massaging the puffy red lips.

  She wasn’t as dripping wet as she had been, but still slick.

  “A little sore,” she confessed as my heart fell.

  “Too sore?” I dipped my finger into her, and she responded beautifully with a twitch as her hands gripped my biceps, “or just sore enough to remember me?” I dove a second finger in.

  She rocked on my fingers, losing herself a little. “To remember you,” she replied as she braced herself against me, rocking as I pulsed my fingers in and out of her.

  Her body quickly slicked my fingers and was as delightfully wet as before. She was made for my cock, made for my body. She was small but mighty. I loved the feeling of her under me and beside me. Now it was time to have her on me. I withdrew my fingers from her and used her wetness to stroke myself to a full erection.

  “Let me do that,” she cooed as she knelt down to me.

  “No deep throating this time, Mrs. Dean. Little Mr. Dean can’t handle it,” I playfully warned.

  “I’d hardly call ‘little Mr. Dean’ little,” she scoffed as her sweet mouth descended onto my sensitive member, wetting the bulbous head with her tongue which slid up and down the slit.

  Oh, she was made for me. Fuck, I wanted her in every way she could bend. Her mouth was so tight and wonderful. She wasn’t a master cock sucker, but she put her heart into it, and the more she did for me, the more I grew to love that heart of hers. Even though we’d only just met, I was starting to assume her heart was bigger than anything in the room.

  I was at my full capacity when I gently touched her chin, urging her to stop.

  “Would you like to take a ride on big little Mr. Dean? It’ll feel better for you that way. You’ll be in control,” I encouraged as I slipped myself out of her mouth.

  Her face was aglow. “Sure.” She grazed her fingers over my engorged tip as a punctuation mark.

  Her beautiful blonde, damp curls were tightening up, making her look even more ethereal. I laid back, my cock standing at attention, and slapped her perfect ass.

  “Have a seat.” I smiled. Her grin turned playful as she wiggled her butt and straddled my length.

  “Big little Mr. Dean is naughty,” she said with a laugh.

  “He’s hungry,” I snarled as my hands found her hips.

  I knew her inexperience would make her being on top a bit hard at first, but it would be the best way to make sure she didn’t hurt. While she was straddling my cock, I let my fingers dance over her folds; her face had grown flushed as she bit her lip. So sensitive, so sweet. I swirled my finger over her clit pinching it hard but not hard enough to deliver pain. I didn’t want her to suffer, but a little sharp jab would get her readier for what was to come.

  As expected, a few pinches interspersed with hard pressure and rubbing on her clit opened the floodgates as the breath hitched in her throat.

  “Let me hear you, Mrs. Dean,” I breathed, loving the sound of her ecstasy.

  She moaned as I teased my cock head along her drenching wet slit.

  “Do you want this?” I asked inching the tip of my cock into her.

  “Yes, I do,” she could barely say.

  “Do you?” I teased, inching in only slightly more.

  “Xavier, please,” she begged, gripping my thighs.

  I loved hearing her say my name; it was so intimate, so perfect. I pressed my hands down on her hips, and she slid further onto me.

  “Okay, cowgirl, he’s all yours.” I slapped her ass and let her go.

  “What about the condom?” she cried out as I hit her sensitive spot.

  “I’m going to pull out when I’m ready to come. Are you okay with that?” I watched her face for signs of stress, but there was nothing but pleasure. “I can get one,” I pressed, needing an answer.

  “It’s okay, just pull out,” she breathed as she struggled to stay mounted on me.

  Her lean muscles were fully flexed as she tried to stay astride my cock without fully impaling herself. She slid her hips back on me and angled herself on more of me, but her eyes looked wide, and she seemed uncomfortable. Her pussy was so tight. She struggled a bit with her legs, trying to work herself onto me, so I braced my back against the headboard as I held her hips and slowly brought them down on my cock, steadying her body. There was the look I wanted to see, relief, pleasure … perhaps joy.

  I loved her expressions and the way her perfect tits stayed straight up as I bounced her up and down on me while she acclimated to my size. I felt my balls tighten with only a few dozen thrusts. I’d didn’t think I’d have much more left for her after I’d nearly emptied myself on the first round, but I could feel the cum welling in my testicles, preparing to shoot; I had to slow her down.

  “You think you can try now?” I rasped. “Lean forward a little, hands on my chest.”

  She obeyed, and again a look of relief as she slowly pumped my cock in and out of her. I could feel her arousal mounting as she kept the torturous pace, building my eruption exquisitely. It was becoming more than I could take, the languid rolling of her hips as she ground herself down to my balls. I was fully sheathed in her; impressive. When she pressed herself on me just a little deeper, I couldn’t take it anymore. She rocked back and forth, her breaths short and moaning, she was there at the apex. My hands found her hips again. I couldn’t help it, I jettisoned my cock into her quickly with harsh fast strokes.

  She mewled and cried out, as she came, her arousal sliding over
my cock and into my pubic hair, that was it, me and big little Mr. Dean were at the grand finale. I didn’t want to leave her body, but I had to as I gently lifted her off me and grabbed my dick, stroking it until I blew a massive load into the air, my stomach heaving as hard breaths escaped me. My cum landed all over it.

  Fuck, she was everything.

  As I lay there recovering, her dear hand swirled in my ejaculate making pictures on my lower abdomen so dangerously close to the source. Her crazy little fingers, painting me with my own cum. I stopped them; I wouldn’t survive another round. Her beautiful breasts were right in my face; she too was panting, coming down from the throes of passion. I leaned in and sucked her pert nipple into my mouth. I adored the taste of her, even with the salt of sweat and sexual release. Her hands found my hair, coating it with my essence. Everything smelled like she and me. We had definitely claimed each other, that night.

  “Thank you, Xavier; thank you for a beautiful night.”

  I felt like she might be near tears. I couldn’t have that, I didn’t want tears, this wasn’t over. Whoever said it was? I panicked some. “We’ll get you some birth control, tomorrow.” It was a lame thing to say, stupid in fact, but I couldn’t readily think of another way to tell her I wanted more.

  She looked at me but didn’t say anything; her eyes were still distant. My head was hurting with fatigue and the beginnings of a mean hangover. I wanted to make her feel welcomed and loved, and I also wanted to sleep; it was nearly four in the morning.

  “We need a shower.” I hefted her into my arms. “I don’t like going to bed sticky and …” I looked at my stomach painted with sperm, “I’m very sticky at the moment.” I laughed, this got a smile out of her. “Who knew you were an artist?” I said as I stood up with her in my arms.

  “I don’t know why I did that,” she said giggling. “It’s a little gross.”

  “No, it’s fucking sexy and makes me want to have you again, but big little Mr. Dean needs rest.” She slumped against my arms, her face falling into my chest. “And so do you,” I said more softly walking us into the bathroom.