He caught the side of her face in his hand and pressed a thumb to her bottom lip. “You’re everything, princess.”
Jacob seemed to be doing his best to remain stoic, but there was no hiding his obviously uncomfortable naked arousal. While his gesture warmed her to no end (he had told her that tonight was about her), there was still the matter of his ready-to-burst cock tenting his dark bedsheets. She wasn’t going to leave him hanging, not on their wedding night, at least.
She pressed forward and caught his thumb between her teeth with a smile, and then darted her tongue over the tip of it. She could taste herself on it. His eyes clouded over with renewed lust. It seemed so unbelievable to her that she could knock this strong alpha man over with a feather of affection and she felt a small thrill at that.
“Y’wanna try it again and make sure it wasn’t a fluke?” he asked.
Now it was Holly’s turn to laugh. She shook her head, popped his thumb out of her mouth and then leaned in to give him a small kiss. “You wore me out. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Mm,” he said, and she could see his frustration in the press of his lips. He reached over to the bed stand, lifted his watch, and then said, “It’s 2:05. It’s already tomorrow.”
Had they really spent all night fucking? She smirked, propped up her elbow, and said, “Well. In that case…”
Holly snaked her hand downward, over his chest, and followed the wild happy trail down the center of his body. She could feel the muscles of his abdomen tense as her fingers tiptoed over that wiry patch of hair and then grazed over the base of his cock.
Suddenly, she pulled back, sat up, and said, “Oh! Wait, one second—” She turned and asked, “Can you unzip me?”
“Of course.” His voice was dark and lustful, and he tugged her zipper down. Holly popped up off the bed, shimmied out of her dress, and hung it over the back of a chair.
When she turned around (had a good view of Jacob now—lounging on the bed, half-clothed still, shirt hanging open, dick leaning on his stomach), he wore a questioning expression.
“I don’t want to get…anything on it,” she said and felt her face blush heavily. His eyes were stuck on her face and—she swore—she saw his cock twitch visibly when her cheeks reddened. Was that a turn-on? She couldn’t recall how many times she’d turned crimson when they’d first met. The thought that he found something erotic in her humiliation just made her face grow hotter.
“Good idea,” he said. He began to peel off his jacket.
“Don’t,” she said quickly, and he stopped. She fumbled and tried again. “Let me undress you. Please.”
He looked amused—and pleased—and he nodded. “Alright.”
Holly unhooked her bra and climbed back into bed with him. His eyes devoured her naked figure hungrily and he wet his lips but didn’t budge. Instead, he let her take her time as she peeled his coat off first, then his shirt, pushing them over and off his shoulders. His chest was broad, covered in dark hair, but she could still catch traces of scars winding through the black forest. Holly drew her hands over his arms (so strong, the bulge of his biceps alone drew a residual, painful pulse from her exhausted pussy) and pressed her lips over the scars on his chest. They were his scars, yes, but they were hers too now. Everything he bore—all his past hurt and history—would follow the both of them now for the rest of their lives.
He didn’t once move away from her affections; instead, she felt his chest rise and fall more rapidly under her lips. Holly set his shirt and coat down on the floor (no place for them in the bed) and then mapped her fingers down his sides. She followed the lines of his muscles, the contour of his body, all the way down to his hips. My husband, she thought to herself. This is my husband. And she had to repeat that thought, over and over again, because it was still so hard to believe that she was married to this Adonis, this vibrant beast of a man.
Holly drew her lips down his body, suddenly overcome with the need to cover every inch of him in worshipping kisses. She could feel his composure start to crack as she got closer, closer, and when her hanging breasts brushed against his hard length, it drew a groan from him. Holly sat up and tugged his pants along with his briefs all the way down his legs and let them drop to the floor. Inspired, she pressed a small kiss to his foot. He grinned. “Y’look good down there.”
She grinned back. “Maybe I should stay down here.”
He shook his head and crooked his finger. “C’mere.”
She did and he grabbed her hair and kissed her hard. She let out a small muffled noise, sinking into his kiss. He then used his grip on her hair to urge her down, his patience spent. She went, willingly. She wrapped her hand around his cock and heard him hiss with pleasure. She wanted to know his body as well as he seemed to know her body and she traced her fingers over the protruding veins as she stroked his length. He was hard steel in her hand, warm to touch, and his cock shined lightly, still slick with her juice. She wasn’t thrilled about the idea of tasting herself on him but she licked his tip once and felt his fingers grip her hair tighter. Liked getting that reaction out of him, so she tried it again, lingering a little this time as she swirled her tongue over the head.