“Yeah, baby,” he cooed. “Like that.”
Giving head wasn’t exactly her thing. She had never really been good at it—at least, that’s what you-know-who had implied on more than one occasion—so she’d eventually just given up on it. But now, on her wedding night, she wanted to do it right this time. She wanted to learn how to please him.
Luckily, he was happy to teach. He let her play with him at her own pace for a bit, then leaned over and caught the side of her face in his hand. She looked up at him, expecting disappointment or frustration in his expression, but instead, she just saw trust and affection. He pressed his thumb to her lips again and said, “Open.”
She did and he slid his thumb between her teeth. Then he guided her head down to take his cock in her mouth. She did, swallowing it was far as she could, and started sucking. His fingers twitched in her hair and he growled, “Aw, hell…good girl…”
He was big and she couldn’t take him all the way down her throat without gagging, though she still tried. He tasted salty and felt velvet smooth between her lips as she tried sucking him hard, then gently, bobbing her head slowly, then quickly. She tasted the ridges of his cock, following the sound of his low moans to get a feel for what felt good and what didn’t.
She sneaked a glance up at him—he was leaning against the headboard now, his palms flat on the mattress. His muscles had tensed up, his breathing labored, and his eyes—those raw, dark eyes—stared straight at her. Watching. The sight shot a ripple of pleasure through her and she whimpered once around his cock. The vibrations from her lips seemed to have a good effect on him because he gasped, tightened his grip on the sheets, and murmured, “Ah…Holly.”
Her name sounded good on his lips. She wanted more of it. With her free hand, she reached down and cupped the soft skin around his balls. She rolled them in her fingers, coaxing him to that edge. Finally, she heard him growl, “Holly, you’re gonna make me cum.”
A warning. He probably expected her to pull back. Instead, she sucked harder, needy sucks, wanting to taste him, wanting it so bad—
And she did, finally, when he came in her mouth with a moan, body tensing underneath her so he didn’t thrust down her throat. He filled her mouth—salty, him—and she swallowed it down quickly to take more, determined to suck down everything he had to give. Mine, mine, mine.
He finally shuddered and moved his hand to the back of her head to urge her off of him. “Alright, girl…that’s enough. You’re making me crazy.”
Holly reluctantly released him from her mouth, but not after one more swipe of her tongue. She then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and leaned in to press a small kiss to his lips. “I don’t do that often,” she said apologetically.
“You’re married to me.” He grinned. “You do now.”
She snorted a laugh, leaned against him. Then she saw it—on the sheets where his hands had gripped were five, long rips. Like claw marks. So the Beast hadn’t entirely left the room. It’d crept back in when she wasn’t looking. The thought was slightly unsettling, but the front of his body was warm and soft and she eventually succumbed to that instead, curling up against him.
She reached over for his watch, saw the time, and tucked her head against his chest with a sigh. “I have to get up soon,” she murmured, her limbs tangled in his. “Big day tomorrow.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s my first day at the new school.”
“So much for the honeymoon, huh?” He chuckled.
She looked up from her spot at his chest, anxiety suddenly tightening in her chest. “Oh—I’m sorry—I just thought…”
“Relax,” he said, like a demand, so she tried to. He tightened his arm around her. “I’m only teasing. You get settled in first. We’ll talk about a honeymoon and all that later.”
“Okay.” She settled back down with her head on his chest, and the butterflying nerves that had arrived in her chest at the thought of disappointing him slowly quieted.
“What d’you want for breakfast?” he murmured, as though he could sense she needed a distraction.
“Pancakes,” she said.
“Blueberry?”
She nodded. “And eggs.”
“Scrambled or sunny side up?”
“Scrambled. And cantaloupe.” She yawned. “Toast. Sausage. Mm…muffins…with the crumble top…”
Chapter 18
They didn’t get pancakes, or eggs, or any other sit-down breakfast the next morning. They slept through one alarm, and then another; each time one went off, Holly woke up just long enough to turn it off and then snuggled deeper into the warmth of Jacob’s chest. By time he finally muttered in her ear that she had to get up and kissed her awake, she was already running late. She had barely enough time to rinse off, throw on clothes, brush out her sex-swept hair, and jump in Jacob’s truck.