Married to the Bad Boy(64)

I slide my dick out of her pussy as she rakes my shoulders, and then I bend to my knee, pulling her dress over my head. Her slightly swollen pussy contracts when she feels my breath over her wet skin. Then I roll my tongue over her clit.

She makes a sound as though she’s in pain. It must feel amazing in the cold to have something hot and wet engulf you. Her hips grind against my mouth as I fuck her with my mouth, sucking her juices, using my fingers to pound her hard. I have three inside her, curving into that bed of nerves that makes her legs shudder. I want her as close to the edge as possible. My mouth closes over her clit and sucks hard as my tongue runs along her wetness.

“TONY!”

I stand up, her dress flattening against my body as I bury myself back into her throbbing pussy. She clings to my shoulder and cries as she comes hard around my cock. Somehow one of her straps falls down her arm and her bouncing tits pop out of her dress. I grab one, digging my fingers into her flesh as her nipple hardens against my palm. My fingernail pinches her nub as my hips grind against hers. The friction builds up and my balls tighten. I’m overwhelmed with the smell of her around me. She’s all mine for me to do whatever I want with.

She yanks my head toward hers and her tongue slips into my mouth. I bite down hard as my cock explodes, filling her pussy with my cum. She kisses me blindly, just as crazy for me as I am for her. A flash of red and blue makes my heart thump hard against my ribs. I bend down and yank my pants back up as she slips to the pavement. Then I give the couple in the distance a sarcastic wave.

“Enjoy the show?” I bellow out to them.

Elena yanks on my jacket. “Let’s go.”

Chuckling, I turn back toward her. I gather her beautiful face in my hands and I plant a soft kiss on her red lips, smoothing my thumbs over her cold cheeks. Aftershocks of pleasure run through my body as she slips her hands around my waist.

And I don’t want her to let go.

* * *

The hushed whispers of the congregation echo through the cavernous church. I stand at the altar, hands flexing at my side. That hair-raising, unnerving song I’ve sat through so many times begins as a slow line of procession moves down the aisle. My stomach clenches as everyone’s gaze turns back. Elena’s sister appears in a champagne-colored dress. I’ve already forgotten her name, but I felt a strong surge of dislike when I shook her hand. She has an upturned, snotty look to her face, and seemed to be annoyed at the fact that she had to come all the way here.

Ma’s already sobbing in the front row, and I try to avoid looking at her. My chest tightens as the wedding march increases in crescendo, and I think about how wrong this is—how I loathe these boring as fuck weddings, and how we should have done it in my Ma’s backyard—tradition be damned. I could give a fuck about religion, and having all these eyes on me isn’t pleasant.

A sliver of white moves into the room and everyone’s head turns to look at my bride to be. My chest swells as she walks down the aisle in a white dress that clings to her body, showing off just enough skin to make my breath catch in my throat. The neckline dips down in a V, exposing her neck and just a hint of cleavage. Her hair is pulled up into an elegant bun, dark, smoky makeup around her eyes, and light lipstick. She looks beautiful. So beautiful that my heart clenches when she reaches me.

This is it.

No turning back.

I want to reach around her head and let her hair fall to her shoulders. She doesn’t look like the girl I saw in the bar—the girl who gives me so many hard-ons throughout the day that I worry my dick might fall off. I only half-listen to the priest as he prattles on and on in Italian, and I wonder why the fuck we always have these ceremonies where we can’t understand the fucking words. He repeats them in French and then in English.

To have and to hold, in sickness and in health. Blah, blah, blah.

It doesn’t feel real. All of it is wrong—the church, the music, her hair, my future sister-in-law with a sour look on her face. Elena’s trembling lips.

I kiss her anyway as cheers explode in the church.

I’ll make her mine in my own way, when she won’t have that terrified look on her. When I say the words, I want to mean them.

We just have to get through this bullshit.

Her hand shakes in mine as we walk down the aisle, and I smile back at Johnny’s beaming face. He can’t resist pounding my back as I walk past him. Sunshine pours over our heads as we leave the church to the limo waiting for us. I hold the door open for her and she bends her head as she steps inside.

“We’ll meet you there!”

A wave of exhaustion hits me as I join her in the limo and shut the car door. She looks at me with the same frightened expression she had on the altar, and I catch a glimpse of her left hand, which gleams with the ring I gave her.