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His naked, warm body pressed over me, pushing me gently against the wall. Lifting me in his arms and guiding my legs to wrap around his waist. His stubble tickled my neck as he pressed hot kisses down to my collarbones.
“How long were you saving it?” I whispered.
“I took it from the cellar at the compound.”
“For our wedding night?”
I felt him smile against my throat. “I hoped so, I always hoped we would end up like this.”
His head ducked and he nipped my breast through my bra.
“Like what?” I pressed.
He pivoted, taking the glass from my hand and setting it aside, and fell onto the bed. I wriggled beneath him and he pushed his knee between my thighs. Applying gentle pressure to my sex.
“I hoped you’d be my wife,” he murmured. “I hoped you’d let me adore you forever.”
Oh, when he said things like that, I melted into a puddle like that hard candy I’d left in his Audi. I felt my lids flutter as his mouth began undressing me. Tugging my garter belt open with his teeth, dragging my panties down, flipping me over and using his tongue to unhook my bra.
He kissed down my spine and bit my ass gently.
“How many times do you want to come?”
I wriggled my hips, his breath burning the curve of my ass, right where it met my thigh.
“Just start and don’t stop until you can’t take it anymore,” I whispered.
That was a mistake. We’d slept together enough times at this point that he knew how to build me up and draw an endless stream of pleasure from between my thighs without even trying.
An hour later, I was on my back, regretting all my choices. So blissed out I could barely move my limbs. My skin was drenched, the remnants of my lingerie stuck to my hips and waist.
His fingers were deep in me, so wet I could hear the sounds of him stroking my G-spot. His mouth moved leisurely over my overstimulated clit. Sucking so gently I barely felt it until pleasure started building and licking over my sex when I begged him for a break.
My fingers dug into his rumpled hair, tugging his head back. His eyes fixed on mine, glazed and burning with a darkness that no longer frightened me.
“I’m not done,” he murmured.
“Don’t you want some satisfaction?” I panted. “It’s your wedding night too.”
“This is how I want to spend my wedding night.”
His tongue flattened and slid soft and wet over my sex. Flicking my clit and making my back arch.
“Merrick, this is torture,” I begged.
“Good,” he said. “So beg me for mercy.”
His face disappeared between my thighs and his grip tightened on my hips. Holding me in place, holding me still.
His demeanor changed and his mouth moved over me with one goal. He’d been gentle, he’d coaxed my orgasms out, he’d praised me when I came again and again.
Now, he was demanding them.
Forcing them out of me. Bending my pleasure to his will until it submitted to him.
My hips bucked, struggling against him. Eyes rolled back, fingers twisted in the sheets, mouth sore from being pinned between my teeth. Tears started in the corners of my eyes and slid hot into my hair.
But I never asked him to stop.
