Misadventures of a Backup Bride, Page 6

  “And I can’t wait to feel every inch of you. I’m going to swallow you whole.” I toss my tie on the floor, then yank my shirt off my shoulders, not bothering with the cuffs. The buttons ping off. Fuck them. I’ll worry about that later.

  “You can try.” She saunters forward, kicking off her shoes and reaching behind her to undo the button of her skirt at the small of her back.

  I hear the hiss of her zipper falling. My skin tightens. My heart revs. My cock screams.

  Finally, Ella is within reach, so I grab her around the waist and lift her onto my kitchen island. She weighs next to nothing. I settle her in the middle, pressing one hand to her abdomen to lay her back while using the other to shove the houndstooth that falls to her knees up around her hips.

  When I catch sight of her panties, I freeze. Stare. Blink. Forget to breathe.

  To call her underwear a scrap of fabric would be generous. It’s white and feminine. It taunts me with the fact it’s almost sheer…but not quite. The lace at the front is shaped like a butterfly and it barely covers her pussy. Two strips of fabric, dotted with tiny, winking pearls, wind around her hips.

  I have to see the back of this confection designed to make a man drag his tongue and lose his mind.

  Without warning, I yank her to her feet, tear the skirt from her body, and spin her around to bend her over the island.

  Two wide strips of nearly transparent lace stretch from each hip down, lovingly cupping her sweet ass, then disappear into the musky shadow between her legs. From the highest point at each side of the undergarment, silky ribbons entwine like the strings on a corset, playing peekaboo with the cheeks of her ass.

  I can’t think of a sexier sight than Ella Hope wearing nothing but a tease and a smile.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “I like lingerie.” Her shaky voice almost sounds defensive. “Buying it is my guilty pleasure.”

  “I’m glad.” Does she realize just how thoroughly I’m going to fuck her until she can’t move, can’t think, and can’t imagine ever leaving my bed? “And you have more like this?”

  “A suitcase full. Some racier.”

  I grin. This might be the best surprise ever.

  I smooth my hand down her spine, over the small of her back, and cup her ass possessively. When she gasps, I smile. Oh, she has no idea what I plan to do to her luscious body.

  But I’m about to show her.

  “Your hands are hot on my skin.” Her whisper is choppy and soft.

  Yeah, she’s aroused.

  I skim my palm around her hip to touch the wings of her protective butterfly. The closer I ease to her center, the damper her lace is.

  “And your pussy is wet under my fingers,” I mutter in her ear.

  Her back arches. Her breath catches. She gives me a jagged nod. “I’m on fire.”

  I grip both of her hips and align my distended dick with her crease, pressing into her ass as much as her panties and my slacks allow. I deeply resent my zipper. I’d give anything to be stripped down and gloved up right now so I could simply slide inside her and feel just how tight, wet, and ready Ella is for me.

  Instead, I grip her hair in my fist. “Tell me what you like.”

  “E-Everything you’re doing.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet.”

  She lets out a breath and wriggles her hips, twisting against my cock, pressing forward, futilely seeking some relieving pressure from the edge of the island. “You’ve done more to excite me than I’ve ever imagined.”

  Smiling, I bend to press kisses across her shoulder and up the crook of her neck before I nip at her lobe. “I’m going to do so much more.”

  Without giving her time to speculate what, I slip my hand under her blouse and skim my way up her soft stomach. I need to reach her bra. I need to feel the garment so I can imagine it. And figure out how best to get it off.

  My fingers trace the lace-coated underwire, then I flatten my palm to cradle the weight of her breast in my hand. Her flesh fills most of my wide palm. I’m stunned by not only that but the fact there’s no fabric covering her nipples. The silky draping of her blouse disguised everything well. “Oh, sweetheart.”

  I’m a boob man. I don’t deny it. And when I whip my free hand up to her other breast and cradle them both in my palms, I realize she’s really damn gifted…and I’m so fucking lucky.

  Ella tosses her head back to my shoulder. “Carson…”

  She’s begging for something. Pleasure. Pain. Ecstasy. I pinch her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She hisses from clenched teeth and writhes back against me once more.

  “If you value that blouse, I suggest you get it off now.”

  “Y-Yes.”

  I don’t know whether she means she wants the blouse intact or whether she wants me to rip it off. But I feel her fingers tugging at the garment. It goes slack around my arms still shoved underneath. Her fingers brush mine. Then suddenly the sides flutter away from her body, and I yank it free.

  The two little straps of her white bra stretch over her shoulders. Three hooks hold everything in place along the back. But I want to see the front. I want to see the little candy points I’m about to have in my mouth unfettered by fabric. I want them bare.

  I skim my lips over her ear. “Turn around, Ella. Show me your nipples.”

  She nods slowly, her breathing picking up pace. “Then you’ll take your pants off and fuck me?”

  “Sweetheart, I may only wait long enough to unzip.” I’ll worry about taking them off later.

  With a sigh that sounds as if she’s relieved, she draws her shoulders up, wrapping her arms around herself, as she twists around in the limited space I’ve allowed her between the island and my body. When the edge of the counter is tucked into the small of her back, she glances her way from my pecs and up my neck, lingering on my mouth, before meeting my stare. She’s got each of her hands wrapped around her opposite elbows, arms covering her nipples. But the cleavage is insane.

  “Ella…” I warn. “Show me.”

  She licks her lips. “You want to see now?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want to touch me?”

  “Yes,” I growl.

  “You want to taste me?”

  She’s taunting, and I love the way she draws everything out, makes me impatient with the heat and the need to have her. I’m sweating. I can’t remember ever wanting a woman the way I must have this one right fucking now.

  I grab her wrists. “Move your arms to your sides or I’ll do it for you.”

  Slowly, she releases her elbows. Her palms skim across her forearms, still pressed against her breasts. Just when I’m sure she’s going to show me everything, she covers her mounds with her palms. The idea of her being able to hide her spilling flesh behind her small hands is laughable and so fucking arousing I feel as if I’m about to lose my mind.

  But she’s enjoying the tease. She wants to torment me, make me crazy for her. I want to let her. I’m so jacked up on desire right now it’s like a drug jetting through my bloodstream. I can almost see every flutter of her lashes, hear each one of her jerky inhalations, feel all the goose bumps on her skin.

  “You sure you really want to see?”

  I grunt. “I can count down from three or just take you now. Your choice.”

  I’m calling her bluff. I’m limiting her options. I’m letting her know I’m at the end of my rope.

  “Count,” she whispers with a tempting grin.

  “Three…”

  She presses a kiss to my jaw, then runs her tongue down my neck, to my shoulder, where she sinks her teeth in. Then she soothes that little spot with her tongue. I have no idea why that turns me the fuck on, but I have to drag in a deep breath and lock my fingers around her waist to keep myself from lifting her and impaling her in the next heartbeat.

  “Go on.”

  “Two…”

  I’m already holding my breath, wondering what the hell she’s going to do to me next, but she doesn’t keep me guessing for long. Her lips trail up my neck, to my chin, then to the corner of my lips, where she presses light kisses all around my mouth…but never directly against it, where I need her most.

  “Yes,” she breathes against my skin.

  I swallow hard. “One…”

  “Ready or not, here you come?” She taunts me as her hands leave her plump breasts, exposing blushing pink nipples above a naughty quarter bra I barely have time to appreciate before she braces her hands on the counter behind her and lifts herself up, spreading her legs and hooking her heels on the edge.

  I gape for a long moment, drinking her in, watching her breasts rise and fall with every panting breath. Then I snap out of it.

  “You better fucking believe it.” I reach in my wallet for my emergency condom I haven’t needed for months, then chuck the billfold and the wrapper on the counter behind me. Then with one hand, I lower my pants. With the other, I caress my way up her thigh, then hook my finger inside those minuscule, tease-me panties.

  Jesus, she’s soaked.

  I want that. I want her. I want to taste her, fuck her, own her. Right now, I don’t ever want space between us again. I just want her and me and an endless amount of time to explore every pale, satin curve she’s exposed to me.

  A little moan escapes her when I graze her clit. It’s hard. She’s definitely ready.

  I should be a gentleman, wait, and give her a few orgasms with my fingers and tongue. And I will. Oh, believe me, that’s on my agenda. But right now…

  With one deft hand, I roll the condom over my cock. “I need to fuck you. Take your panties off.”

  They’re delicate and complicated, and as juiced up as I am for her now, I know they’ll dissolve in my hands if I try to remove them.

  “No time,” she insists with a frantic shake of her head as she reaches up and slips a fingertip under the front butterfly and pulls it aside, exposing most of her slick folds.

  Her pussy is bare.

  Ella just keeps getting better and sweeter. If I could have conjured up a woman who tripped every trigger in my body and made me ache for long nights of sweaty, amazing sex, I would have pictured this one. I’ve always been partial to brunettes. I love her big eyes, big tits, big sense of sexual adventure.

  “Good thinking,” I praise as I part her folds with one hand and align the head of my cock to her opening with the other. “You sure you’re ready?”

  She wriggles on my crest until it dips just inside her. “Why? Are you worried you’re not?”

  I have to smile at her taunt. I’m more fucking aroused than I’ve ever been, and still she doesn’t stop tempting me. She’s not grasping the fact that she’s created a beast who will happily spend the next forty-eight hours inside her wringing one orgasm after another from her and still be greedy for more.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  In one move, I grip her hips, lift her against me, and impale her on my cock. My tug and good old gravity work magic. Seconds later, I’m buried deep inside the sweetest clinging, fluttering, gripping pussy ever. She gasps as she steadies herself on my shoulders, hanging on for dear life. All that’s great. More than spectacular, actually. But when she raises her head to me, her big black lashes lifting so she can drink me in and her lips parting in an electric moment before our stares meet? Shit, the connection reaches into my chest and squeezes hard. It does the same to my balls. This isn’t a simple screw. This isn’t a normal fling. She’s doing way more than scratching my itch.

  Fuck, I could fall for this woman.

  I don’t know how or why I’m sure that’s true. We’re barely acquainted with one another. But that knowledge is simmering in my brainpan. I don’t doubt it any more than I doubt my ability to spell my name or recite my date of birth.

  Ella Hope could be lethal to my heart. And that still doesn’t stop me from digging my fingers into her hips and arching up into her body and squeezing another inch into her tight clasp.

  “Carson…”

  The way she whimpers my name is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

  “Feel good, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.” She wriggles against me, clenching, adjusting, gyrating with a frown like she’s dealing with a torment just shy of pain. “I need—”

  “Friction?”

  She wraps her arms around my neck, breathing hard against my lips. “You.”

  Somehow, whatever is happening between us has gone from teasing to dead fucking serious with one thrust. Now that I’m inside her, I don’t know how I’m ever going to leave. That’s provided I’m ever going to want to.

  I cup my hands under her ass and lift her up every one of my aching inches. The drag of my sensitive skin through her wet flesh has me gritting my teeth to hold myself together. Fuck me, this woman is going to undo me fast.

  “You got me.” I brace my palms on her hips and yank her down every electrified inch of my dick again. “All of me.”

  As I bottom out, her head falls back. Her mouth gapes open. A high-pitched wail falls out. My neighbors are probably getting one hell of a passionate soundtrack to their evening conversation, and I don’t give a shit.

  Ella wraps her legs around my middle and digs her fingers, nails and all, into my shoulders. As I lift her up for another thrust, she tries to help, clenching her thighs and using the leverage of all her limbs to work up my throbbing shaft. It’s so good…but I need more of her now. Faster. Harder. Deeper. What I don’t need is her help.

  At the apex of her rise, I slam her back down every inch of me. I don’t give her time to adjust or react before I do it again. Again. And again.

  Fuck me, after a handful of strokes, the pleasure is beginning to overwhelm. The tight clasp of her is unraveling my control. I could go blind from this pleasure. I grit my teeth to stave off the growing, gnawing ache. Ella doesn’t make it easier when she presses those amazing breasts against my chest, brushes kisses over my jaw, then makes her way to my ear.

  “God, that’s so good…” she moans in my ear. “You’re big inside me. I have to stretch to take you, and it’s the best kind of burn. The ache behind my clit is hot and growing. I don’t know how long I’ll last. Carson…”

  Holy shit, she just keeps getting sexier. Her body gives me so many clues about her arousal, but her words…yeah. That’s the icing on top of the sweet confection of her body that’s already so smooth and melting on my tongue.

  “Don’t hold back for me,” I insist. “I’ll fuck you through every orgasm, sweetheart, and start giving you another one in the next instant. But this tight little pussy is mine to pleasure, to use…” To own.

  I raise her to the tip of my cock again, then shuttle her back down, reveling in her response that’s somewhere between a breathy gasp and a strangled whimper. And there she is, tightening around me even more, breathing harder, nails digging in farther.

  Under that button-down blouse and her professional exterior beats the heart of a temptress. This really isn’t a great time in my life to start thinking with my dick, but that’s not going to stop me. I’ve been around the block enough to have memorized all the usual speed bumps—drama queens, narcissists, gold diggers, clinging vines, Madonnas, whores, girls with daddy issues… You name it. Ella seems like a woman I can simply be myself with.

  When I drag her down my cock again, a groan tears from my chest. I’m on fire. I want deeper. I need her under me. I have to take every part of her in every way. Right now.

  Laying her flat against the island again, I watch as her eyes flare. She hisses and her body bows at the cool granite chilling her back, but this position leaves her legs spread, pussy open, clit exposed. I look down at her flushed face, dazed eyes, and breasts that bounce with every thrust—and I know I won’t be able to hold out much longer.

  Caressing my way up her thigh as I bend my knees just enough to take another long, deep glide through her slick flesh—and -->