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She’s clutching me as tight as she can everywhere. Her pussy, arms, legs, there’s no doubt in my mind this is where she wants me. And damn, it feels good. When my balls are spent and Nira is no longer shaking with release, I try to pull out, but she grips me harder.
“Not yet, Joe. Give me another minute. I’ve waited a long time for this.” I huff a laugh because she hasn’t been legal for more than a minute on my timeline, but I indulge her, rolling us both to the side.
When I think she’s had her moment, I slide out of her as gently as I can manage and fetch a warm washcloth. This, of all things, is what makes her blush. I give her a warning look and she hides her face in the pillow with a small smile. I toss the washcloth into the sink and then climb into bed, pulling her close. “You going to blush every time I take care of you, Short Stack?”
She shifts restlessly against me, her face pressed into my chest. “Maybe. And can we find a different nickname?”
I raise an eyebrow she can’t even see. “Like what? Honeybuns?” I cup her ass in demonstration and she snickers.
“No! I don’t know. Just something more grown up or sexy.”
“Hmm. We need to stick with Short Stack through the wedding, Nira,” I warn her. “I don’t want anyone to know about us until after we’re married and you’re somewhere safe.”
She clutches me with anxiety. “Do you really think Dad would do… something?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure, but I won’t take the risk with you nearby. So outside of this room we’re like we used to be until Monday. Got it?”
She nods, her eyes troubled.
“Get some sleep, sweetness. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
Nira
Despite my pleading, I can’t convince Joe to make love to me again when we wake up. Truthfully, he was already up and out of bed, but came back when he heard me stirring. He pretended to simper and say with mock outrage, “Not until after the wedding. Never give themilkaway for free.”
I’m laughing and pouting at the same time, which makes my stomach hurt. So I roll over, but Joe’s voice goes stern. “When the hell did you get that?”
I blush into the pillow. I’d forgotten. Not that I had the tattoo, but that he didn’t know about it. “Um. Spring Break, my freshman year?”
“I should tan that inked ass,” he mutters.
“Why, it’s true, isn’t it?” I smirk at him over my shoulder, deciding to own my impetuous decision to haveJoe’spermanently marked on my rear. I wasn’t even drunk when I did it.
Joe leaves, still muttering, so I decide to get up and find some breakfast. Except it’s already here. There’s a trolley loaded with decadent goodies, still steaming and filling the room with delightful smells. My stomach rumbles.
“When did you order this?” Joe looks at the cart, bewildered.
“I didn’t,” I answer, surprised. Then I spot a note with Chef’s florid handwriting.A sample of the honeymoon breakfast offering. Let me know what you think.
“Do you think he knows?” I ask Joe, biting my lip.
He snorts. “No. I think he and Mrs. Donnelly are inveterate matchmakers who don’t want to miss an opportunity.”
“So cynical,” I comment while I load a plate with strawberries and tiny sausage rolls. That’s just to start. I’ve got my eye on the apricot danish for dessert. Knowing Chef, he made that this morning and there’s probably almond paste in the middle.
Joe pulls me down on his lap and lands a swift kiss on my temple. “You know I’m grumpy, Nira. What you don’t see is how much worse it is when you’re not around.”
“Aww, Joe! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.” I reward him with a strawberry, but I’m back to pouting when he sucks on my fingers too, making my pussy quiver with interest.
“Are you sure we can’t…?” I kiss his jaw in an attempt to soften his stance.
“Positive,” he responds dryly. “I saw you wince when you sat down. Not happening.”
7
Nira
The day flies by. Selena arrives mid-morning in a flurry of long vehicles and an amped up entourage. Everyone except Joe and Mrs. Donnelly gravitate to her celebrity and leave us alone to finish up the wedding details. There’s a buzz in the air that always seems to accompany my half-sister. I’ve never been particularly envious of that or her soon-to-be groom. He’s some high-tech billionaire that our father introduced to her. I’ve sort of suspected it’s an arranged marriage in a way because I don’t think they’ve spent more than a few hours together in the same city. But none of my business, really.
