I may not be a virgin, but I can certainly pretend to be one on my wedding day.
"Sexy." His voice deepens right when his fingers slip beneath the lace, touching my bare, heated skin. I close my eyes and spread my legs a little, already lost in his touch when I feel him trace my soaked folds. "Baby, you're wet."
"I want my husband," I say, wanting to both laugh and moan because, oh my God, what a picture we must make: me braced against the wall, my husband underneath my wedding gown, hurriedly trying to get me off with a few strokes of his fingers.
"Well, you're getting him. Any way you can have him," he says just as he circles my clit with his finger. I'm already primed and eager, ready for him to push me right over the edge and send me straight into an orgasm. Hopefully it will ease the incessant neediness that's been raging within me for the last few days. Weeks.
I hate how distant we've been lately. But I'm going to rectify that too, with one incredible wedding night and an amazing honeymoon.
Gage touches me in a particular way that I love and a gasp escapes me. That familiar sweet sharpness echoes through my body, telling me I'm close, and I clutch the wall behind me as his touch becomes faster, a little rougher, his lips pressed hard against the inside of my thigh.
And then his mouth is on me, his fingers buried deep. I shriek and he pinches my thigh to remind me where we're at, I'm sure. So I place my hand over my mouth to stop from yelling as the orgasm sweeps over me, leaving me a trembling, panting mess as I'm left slumped against the wall.
The man is good. I will give him that.
Within seconds he's out from under my skirts, his face flushed, his lips damp. He's smiling at me, looking mighty pleased with himself, and I can't help but return the grin.
"My turn," he declares happily, and I laugh as he stands so he's looming over me. He takes me into his arms and kisses me senseless, the taste of me on his lips and tongue.
I don't care. I eagerly accept his kiss, my knees shaky as his tongue plunders my mouth and when he breaks the kiss first, I follow him, my mouth still seeking his.
"Feel this," he tells me as he takes my hand and places it over the very firm erection straining against his black trousers. I stroke him slowly, from base to tip, can feel almost every blessed inch and nuance of his flesh, and I smile up at him when I see the blissed-out expression already crossing his face.
"I think my husband wants me," I murmur as I stroke him again. A little quicker this time.
"You're damn right he does."
"Think I can get on my knees in this getup?" I kick out my foot, making my skirt flare, and Gage chuckles.
"Are you serious?"
Oh, that's a challenge if I've ever heard one. That's one thing Gage and I like to do-constantly challenge each other. "Watch me," I say as I gather my skirt in one hand and get down on my knees in front of my now very shocked husband.
Without hesitation I reach for him and unzip his fly, impressed by his thick c**k straining against the damp cotton of his underwear.
"Five minutes, baby?" he asks, his fingers sliding into my hair and pulling me closer to his erection. "Think you can do it?"
"I know I can," I murmur just before I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock, his low hum of pleasure sending a shot of arousal through me. Just like that I'm turned on again.
And just like that I make my husband come in less than five minutes with only my mouth. On our wedding day, down the hall from where our reception still rages on.
Yeah. Life can't get much better than this, can it?
Ivy
"BABY. BABY, BABY, baby, baby."
I let my head flop against the pillow, my chest aching with the ragged breaths I've been struggling to take. This pushing a baby out of my vagina business is f**king hard. Why didn't my mom ever tell me this?
Probably because she knew I'd refuse to do it if I understood the truth.
"Are you talking to me or your future son or daughter?" I ask Archer when I finally find my breath once again. My mouth is dry. My skin is soaked with sweat, and I feel like I'm going to collapse which is sort of funny considering I'm lying down. Well, half lying down, since I bend forward every few minutes to try and push the baby out.
"You. I'm talking to you, babe. Trying to encourage you." Archer takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. God, I love this man. I really hope with the next few pushes I can produce that baby he's so eagerly awaiting. "You've got this, babe. You've been working so hard."
"I know," I whisper, closing my eyes when I hear the doctor start talking. He keeps saying all the right things, but those things are irritating the crap out of me right now. The only one I want to focus on is my husband. That's it.