Virgin Honeymoon (The Honeymoon Diaries)

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Virgin Honeymoon (The Honeymoon Diaries) Page 4

by Nicolette Lyons


  Sean looks around once more and then bunches my skirt in one hand, pulling it out of the way, high enough that he can bury his mouth into me. He uses his other hand to spread me wide, his tongue flicking over me three wonderful, too-quick times before he pulls away and straightens as though he hasn’t just tongued me.

  I’m trembling now. My legs have the strength of cooked noodles and all I want to do is find a lounge chair somewhere and let Sean have his way. But there aren’t any more shadowy, private spots on the way to our building. The elevator ride is torturous, with two elderly couples chatting away about their grandchildren. Sean stands behind me and all I can think about is what we are going to do when we get to our room. I feel his arousal against my hips and decide two can play his game.

  Facing forward, I put my hands behind my back and lean into him, wrapping my fingers around the bulge in his pants. His hands are on my shoulders and they tighten, not enough to hurt me but enough to let me know I’ve got his attention.

  I squeeze him, rub my nail against the seam of his crotch. I love the way he inhales but doesn’t exhale. The elevator stops and one couple gets off on their floor, but the other remains. I glance up at Sean and smile, but the look in his eyes promises a punishment of some sort.

  I can’t wait.

  The second the other couple steps off the elevator Sean whirls me around and lifts me onto my toes for a blazing kiss. I vaguely hear the doors close, have the awareness of moving, and then Sean nudges me backwards, into the hallway, before he turns me around and marches me toward our room with a swat to my behind. I glare at him over my shoulder, grab the keycard from his hand and take off running as fast one can in four-inch heels. Sean can easily catch me, I know this, but he plays the game, lets me get to the door and dart inside as though truly managing to escape, before he catches the paneled wood at the last second and enters the darkened suite behind me.

  I back up, slowly, laughing and flustered, hands in front of me like that can stop him. Like I want to stop him. But Sean matches me step for step, all the way to the balcony doors he left open earlier.

  “Turn around.”

  His hands are on my waist, positioning me so that I face the ocean. We are high enough up that the lights on the hotel grounds doesn’t reach us, but even though every balcony is walled on both sides for privacy, anyone could be sitting on the other side. Listening. If they lean far enough over the balcony, they might even see.

  “Don’t move,” Sean says.

  I grasp the balcony railing to steady myself, knowing I should say something, do something, so that Sean will take me back inside our room and make love to me on the bed like a normal couple. But I don’t. I stand there and let Sean lift my skirt from behind, and I wait for the moment when his trousers are open and I feel him probing the wetness I’ve been aware of all evening.

  “Okay?”

  I turn my head so that Sean can kiss me. “Touch me too.”

  He growls into my ear and shifts to free a hand, his fingers sliding around my waist and down. I tighten my grip on the railing to hold myself up when Sean fingers me, stroking over my clitoris and into my warmth, moving oh-so slowly back and forth until I wonder if I’m going to climax standing up. Is it possible?

  “Open for me.”

  Sean slides a finger deep inside me, stretching me, easing the way for what’s to come. I can’t do it. I can’t remain standing much longer, not when he’s touching me the way that he is.

  “Bend a little. Ah, love, that’s right. A little more.”

  I do as Sean asks and feel his cock find me. I’m still tight but Sean rocks into me once and then again, pushing all the way in. He’s holding me up now, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other stroking my clit, and he’s moving in and out, over and over, all the while teasing that spot between my legs until I want to scream. “Sean.”

  His thrusts get a little harder, go a little deeper. But standing up as we are, it’s hard to get just the right angle and penetration, and I’m getting frustrated, whimpers emerging from my throat. Without warning Sean pulls out and tugs me along with him. He sits down in one of the balcony chairs and pulls me onto his lap. My thighs are open wide and draped over his and the angle seems all wrong, until Sean lifts me and fills me full once more.

  This is different. This is good.

  I begin to move on him, quickly learning what feels best. He pinches my nipples and squeezes my breasts the way I like, while I use my legs to lift and lower onto him.

  I’m so wet and full and needy. I can’t get enough of Sean.

  My arms strain to keep me balanced but I move, up and down, up and down. It’s good. Soo good. But I don’t come. I can feel Sean swelling inside me. I know he’s getting close and if he climaxes and leaves me behind I’m not sure what I’ll do. Please. Oh, please.

  Sean shifts behind me, leaning forward so that I’m dependent on him for balance and security, to keep me from falling, But then his hand rubs between my legs, the pads of his fingers tweaking the flesh there, and that’s it. I’m a goner.

  I gasp and moan, riding his fingers and his cock until the last tremor fades. I’m left shaking while Sean continues to move me atop him, groaning, until he empties himself inside me.

  We stay there, joined, struggling to catch our breath while staring out at the ocean and stars. “Will it always be like this?” I ask softly.

  Sean kisses my temple, his arms tightening around me in a hug.

  “We’ll make it stay like this,” he says.

  I close my eyes and relish in the security and warmth of my husband’s embrace, my mind whirling with all sorts of ideas on how I can ensure Sean’s words come true.

  If honeymoons officially only last a year... I have three-hundred-sixty-four days left!

  WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT AVA AND SEAN’S HONEYMOON ADVENTURES?

  LOOK FOR MORE BOOKS IN THE HONEYMOON DIARIES SERIES

  BY NICOLETTE LYONS

  COMING SOON!

  AUTHOR BIO

  Nicolette Lyons is a wife of twenty plus years, a full-time writer, stay-at-home mom, dog lover and dust-bunny collector. When she’s not writing, she loves to spend time with her family, watch romantic movies and travel.

  Dear Readers,

  Thanks for picking up my first book in this exciting new series. You may have noticed something different about this story if you’re a fan of erotic novels. First, let me explain. In today’s world, we are surrounded by books depicting immoral acts between virtual strangers, acts of brutality and abuse that have sparked an entire trend of books. As a woman, a christian wife of over twenty years, and a full-time writer, I found myself looking for something I couldn’t find--clean, well-written, sensual fiction depicting a healthy sexual relationship between a man and woman. No ménages, no shape-shifting animals, no otherworldly creatures, nor debasing language written just for the sake of vulgarity. Just...love. And hot sex.

  The lack of what I describe as “Christian Erotica” started me on this journey, and my hope is that you use these stories to enhance your marriage bed with your spouse, delighting in the blessing God has given you in him or her. After all, Christians DO have sex! Hot sex, wonderful sex. Meaningful, loving sex. But sometimes physical issues, trauma, and the passing of time leaves us needing a “boost” in our marital relationship to get us in the mood.

  I’ve been asked if there is such a thing as Christian Erotica and to answer that question: yes, I definitely believe there is. Want proof? Read the Song of Solomon. God’s feelings toward sex are clear. It isn’t wrong or bad, unless we take the act to certain levels.

  I hope you like THE HONEYMOON DIARIES and if so, please, tell a friend, place a review online, and support my efforts.

  Happy Reading,

  Nicolette Lyons

 

 

  ooks on Archive.


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