“So considerate.”
My hand strokes her inner thigh, inching closer until I discover that she’s right. My fingers brush over the smooth skin joining her leg to her hip. She didn’t wear panties to her own wedding. Jesus.
I palm her pussy and stroke the line of wetness gathering between her legs. It glides over my fingers as she inhales sharply. The sound of her juices makes blood pound in my ears, and every small sound is amplified. The blood rush starts in my head, running to every surface until I can feel my lips burning. Every fiber of my being wants her. I fist my cock as a bead of precum rolls down my shaft, and she raises her hips silently. Her eyes burn with the same need.
She sinks down, her soaking-wet cunt almost immediately swallowing my cock. Her heat wraps around me and instant bliss floods into my veins, pounding through me. It’s much more intense now. All I can see is her. All I can feel is the blood rushing to my erection. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me feverishly, and I marvel at the fact that something as simple as a kiss could make me so goddamn hot for her. I grab her shoulders and thrust into her as the car drives on, laughing when the driver slams the privacy screen over the partition.
“Tony, we’re going to be there soon.”
“Like I give a fuck.”
Elena shudders in my arms and I lift up her dress, bunching it in my hand so that her bare ass sits on my legs. Fuck, it’s a sexy look. I grab both cheeks and lift her, watching as my thick cock slides out of her, shining. I hammer her hard, loving how she gasps at the force of my thrusts. Then I spank her ass so that the sound cracks in the limo, which has finally stopped.
Panic fills her gaze. “Tony, we’re here. They’re going to open the door!”
Buried balls deep inside her, I throw her dress back over her ass just as Johnny opens the door. How the fuck did he beat us here?
He takes one look at our disheveled appearance and his face cracks with a wide grin. Elena burns like the setting sun.
I feel no shame.
Johnny shakes his head. “Couldn’t wait ’til after the reception?”
“Fuck that.”
Laughter booms from his chest as he shuts the door on us, shaking his head as he walks to the sidewalk.
“Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed.”
“You are?” I turn her face toward mine and thrust hard. Her blush deepens. “’Cause if you are, I’ll stop.”
There’s no fucking way I’ll stop.
“No, don’t.”
“That’s my girl. Focus on me.”
“But—” She turns her head, distracted by the group of people waiting outside.
“Forget about them, hon. Trust me, they wish they could be in my shoes. Too fucking bad you’re all mine now.”
With her face buried in my neck, she lifts her hips and grinds my cock, making me gasp. It’s so sudden, and then she’s lifting her body and she moves between my legs. She kneels in her wedding dress and takes my wet cock in her hands. I fist her hair.
It’s so fucking wrong.
Her lipstick smudged, she takes my cock deep in her mouth and I rut her. Her lips close, making a tight seal as I pulse in and out of her mouth.
All the way. All the fucking way.
She’s my wife, and I’ll make her drink every fucking last drop. I make her swallow my cock. It bulges down her throat as she kneels on the floor of the limo, taking her husband in as deep as she can. Her lips squeeze against my balls. Holy fuck.
My cock releases hot jets of cum as I keep her head there, her tongue swirling around my head. I groan and pull out, pulsing a few more times as more streams burst from my head.
My chest tightens painfully. I brush the strands from her face as I lift her up with my other arm. Then I pull her over my lap and give her another kiss. It’s soft, and electrical shocks keep making my breath catch.
I’ve never felt like this before.
Her lips move and we break apart. “We should probably get out of the car.”
My eyes flick toward the crowd of people waiting for us, and I suppress a laugh. “I guess.”
“Jesus Christ, I’m a mess.”
We both do what we can to fix our appearances and then we step into the wintry air. They howl at us the moment we leave the limo, Francois, Johnny, all of them clapping their hands. It doesn’t bother me. We’re married. Married people have sex. Who the fuck cares?
Elena does. She shoots me a heated look as we walk to the reception hall, which is a beautiful place. Glass windows everywhere, and a garden surrounding the outside. Elena gazes at the high ceilings and mouths a, “Wow.”
As soon as we walk in the room, the guests stand from their seats and applaud us. Elena’s hand twitches in mine as we take our seats at the sweetheart table. My mother beams at me from the table with my aunts and cousins, and I feel another twist of guilt.