Fulfillment(128)
He slid the ring onto my finger, then kissed my soaked hand. I grabbed his face and leaned into him, pressing my mouth to his like I had so many times before, except this time it felt indescribable. The passion, the love, the lust and resolution poured out of us both through hands, mouths, lips, and tongues.
He stood up and, as if I were a feather, picked me up and held me to him, not separating his mouth from mine, not even the slightest bit.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, securing our bodies together and feeling the wet soggy clothing between us. The cool from the rain, together with the heat from our passion, hardened my nipples and left me panting with pleasure.
He gripped my arse ferociously as he lapped deliciously at my mouth, then my neck, then chest and the top of my breasts.
“Bryce,” I said breathlessly. “Our meatballs are getting wet.”
“Fuck the meatballs,” he groaned as he carried me back down the alleyway toward the scooter, the duet still happily playing “Bella Notte” in the rain.
***
The ride back to the hotel was both exciting and downright scary. My adrenalin was sky high, but the wet slippery roads together with European crazy drivers had me on edge. I clung tightly to Bryce out of fear and infinite overflowing love.
He led me hastily through the lobby, both of us leaving a wet trail behind us, and when we were in the elevator cart and the doors closed giving us privacy, the hungry desperation returned.
He lifted me up again, placing my arse on the railing that bordered the elevator walls. I let my hands find his hair, his face, his back and his arms, touching as much of him as I could touch. He tore my shirt apart exposing my damp chest, and not waiting any longer than he saw fit, wrenched my bra down and took my perked nipple into his mouth.
We both groaned in succession our lustful need spilling out of us at a rapid pace.
“Mmm, you’re mine,” he growled, as he greedily swapped from one breast to the other.
I threw my head back in pleasure. “I’ve been yours for a while, Bryce.”
“I can’t fucking wait to make you my wife.”
“I can’t fucking wait to be your wife,” I breathed, as I took his tongue back into my mouth.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal our suite. Carrying me inside, he headed straight for the lounge, or more precisely, the open fire. We continued to kiss each other feverishly and desperately as if our mouths knew nothing else, all the while frantically peeling our wet clothes from one another.
Bryce set me on my feet then dropped to his knees, lifting my leg onto his lap.
“I like you on your knees. So far only great things have come from your mouth while on your knees,” I lovingly admitted, as I looked at my ring then back at him, my eyebrows rising with a smile.
He smirked devilishly at me as he unzipped my boot and removed it then switched legs and did the same with the other. As he unbuttoned my jeans and stripped them from my body—together with my G-string—I quivered with excitement. His tongue slowly made its journey up my leg, finding my pussy wet with desire, desire for him; desire for my fiancé. Holy fuckaroo, Bryce Clark is my fiancé.
“You are my fiancé,” I exclaimed, my voice sounding like I had only just let it sink in.
He flicked his tongue across my clit then paused. “Yes, I am.”
“We are getting married,” I exclaimed again.
“Yes,” he mumbled against my clitoris before inserting his finger.
The feeling of fulfillment nearly had me buckling at the knees, so much so that I stumbled back against the large floor to ceiling window. Bryce stood up and faced me, pressing me against the thick glass panel with his warm hard body while the Italian winter air kissed the window with its ferocious chill, shocking my skin at its icy feel. I gasped.
Reaching down, he wrapped one arm underneath my arse, lifting me against him while the other hand stayed pressed against the glass pane. I opened myself to him, his erect head not needing any guidance into my pussy. He was hard, full and ready to be pumped.
He slammed into me with intense fervour, then pulled out and repeated the motion. At first I thought his enthusiasm was too much for the window, but the sheer carnality of his actions had me forgetting my surroundings, instead focussing on him and him only.
Bryce pounded me against the window over and over until I was screaming out his name and digging my teeth into his shoulder. Then, barely recovering from my orgasm, he pulled out and spun me around, forcing me to splay my hands against the glass. I watched his reflection in the rain streaked window as he slid his arm underneath my waist, compelling me to lean forward and spread wide for him. I found the strength to get up on my tip-toes enough for him to bend only slightly and drive back in to me.