Chapter Twenty-five
Sophie
So now I have a husband. I am someone’s wife. The wedding was perfect, any wedding where I end up with Declan as my husband is perfect. We are finally back inourroom, the one he had planned for us and the one we are staying in for another three days after everyone has gone home. A honeymoon in Vegas - just the two of us, and I can't wait.
I am deliriously happy. But deliriously horny. Dec wanted to sneak up after his proposal and have us make up in private, but I said no, I wanted it to be special blah blah blah, why did I deny myself? I want him. I'm practically panting for it at this point.
I look over at him as he comes out of the bathroom, his jacket already hanging on the back of the chair, his tie hanging loose around his neck, and his shirt collar open. He is a work of art that I could look at all day – and now I can – all day every day – woohoo!
His gaze roams hungrily over my body, and I know in a matter of minutes that we’ll both be naked.
“Do you have any idea the torture it’s been, looking at you all evening, during our wedding in that dress? It fits you like a second skin. You've been tormenting me all night.”
“Hey, I didn't pick the dress. Blame Mia!”
He’s right though. This dress fits perfectly, I couldn't wear any underwear. I didn't tell him that, though, with the look in his eyes all night, he’s horny enough.
“Yeah, I don't know whether to thank her or punish her.”
“Hey! You don't get to punish anyone except me!” Well, that sounded wrong, but did I get jealous over him saying that about Mia?
“Jealous, Blue?” He raises one eyebrow in question.
I shake my head. “Actually no, you see, my man arranged all this for me, sorted out a wedding, rings, outfits, hotel room. He must love me a lot, you know.”
“Yeah, he does. Now get over here because I seriously can't take any more.”
I make my way over and slide my hands around his shoulders. His hands slide down my hips and start to fist the dress's material to raise the hem. When his hands reach my bare skin, I gasp as his rough fingers touch my thighs, he slides his hands up and over to the front, the part where my knickers should be - except they're not.
He freezes when he doesn't feel my underwear. “I fuckingknewit! I knew there was no way you could wear underwear with that dress! Jesus, you've been commando all night. I bet you’re soaking wet too.”
I part my legs to let him get access, and he slides his finger inside me. I'm wet - I’ve wanted to get him alone since I saw him at the airport. That feels so long ago now, and it was only this morning. I wasn't even engaged, hell I wasn't even in a relationship, and now I'mmarried.
“I know I'm wet,husband.I’ve wanted this for hours, days, weeks.” I give a short laugh.
“Fuck...call me husband again, it turns me on.”
“Fuck me, husband, I'm waiting.”
He doesn't need to be asked twice. He lifts my dress up and off over my head. I reach behind and unclasp my bra and shrug it to the floor - only my ridiculously high heels remain. I reach down to take them off.
“Leave them on.” His voice is gruff. “I want you to wrap those ridiculous shoes around me when I'm inside you.”
“Works for me.” I rasp as I slide my hand under his shirt. I need him naked too. I unbutton his shirt and slide it off his shoulders. He presses his hips into me, and his hardness presses against my stomach.
God, I can't take this anymore, stuff foreplay, I need him in me...now. I climb onto the bed, knowing it will drive him crazing seeing me in that way. I try to be as seductive as possible, but the truth is, I feel sexy as hell right now. That’s how he makes me feel.
“Jesus.” I hear him mutter as he unfastens his trousers and shoves them down with his underwear. Before me now like a Greek god - all muscle, his erection jutting out. I’ve never thought a man looks particularly beautiful naked, but he does. I don't even notice his scar now, the one he was so self-conscious about - that seems like a lifetime ago.
I lie back and spread my legs, knowing that he can see everything. I'm pulling out all the stops so he’ll get over here and get inside me.
“Come on, husband, don't we have to consummate this marriage?”
He grins, slow and sexy, and then he’s on me. His body covers mine as he takes my mouth roughly, passionately. He kisses down my neck and moves his way down until he reaches my breasts, taking one in his mouth. His movement isn't slow and deliberate - it's fast and rough - close to losing control. Good. That’s the way I want it. He bites down on my nipple, and I cry out.
“Too hard?” he mutters as he looks up at me through those lashes that should be illegal on a man.
“No, baby, keep going.” I gasp.
