Page 4 of Accidentally Hitched (Unintentionally Yours #1)

Callum

“ I think you should know,” Amanda says as we stroll down the tiny aisle of the faux chapel together. “That I never do this.”

I can taste her breath in the air between us.

Tequila. Gin. The whole bar, honestly.

But she’s cute.

With her soft hand tucked around the crook of my elbow I can’t think of much else.

“What? Fake marry people? That’s a relief.”

Amanda laughs, a gorgeous unapologetic laugh and the “minister” shushes us.

She bites her lips but continues to giggle.

“No,” she whispers. “I never fake marry people just so I can sleep with...”

“So, you are going to sleep with me then?”

“Maybe…”

“Interesting…”

“Dearly beloved!” The quote unquote minister’s voice topples both of our voices, and we shut up while he goes through his ritual.

It’s a short version of the traditional service, and Amanda is having a hard time keeping a straight face.

I am having a hard time not kissing her.

Every time she giggles, she stifles it by biting her lip, making it plumper and pinker each time.

She really is gorgeous.

I could see it from a mile away.

But up close?

Between her red hair and her fair skin, her blueish green eyes and her rose petal cheeks, she’s nothing short of stunning. But not in a super model way. There’s an edge to this girl.

There’s also a lot of curve.

Curves I am aching to explore.

“You may kiss the bride!” the little man bellows before turning away with little to no interest in what we do next.

Thanks to his pay in advance policy, he got his $59.99 up front and, in turn, we got two cheap rings that probably came out of one of those dollar store vending machines and a “marriage license” that I consider tossing in the trash on the way out the door.

“Well? What do you say?” I ask.

“About what?” she asks softly, her lips still tipped in the corners in a very suggestive way.

A way that says come and get me.

“I'm going to kiss you.”

“Pretty sure I just agreed to do more than that, didn’t I?”

With that, my mouth crashes into hers.

Amanda wraps her arms around me, and our bodies press together.

I thought it might be awkward considering, well, everything.

But it’s not.

In fact, it’s the most natural thing I’ve ever felt.

And the most natural thing to do now…is get her back to my hotel room.

“You know I don’t ever actually want to get married?” Amanda pants as we step into the elevator at my hotel.

She’s panting because we haven’t stopped kissing since we left the chapel.

All the way back down the aisle, out the front door, across the strip and through the lobby, we have been at each other’s throats…but in a good way.

“No?” I ask, pulling her against me as the door closes and we ascend upward.

“Nah. But if I did–”

“If you did, what would he be like?” I ask, kissing her again.

“Well…he’d have to be sweet. But not too sweet.”

“I’m definitely not too sweet.”

“And he’d have to love music.”

I actually laugh at that. “I love music,” I say, my lips on her neck.

“No, like really love it. Music is a huge part of my life.”

“I played the clarinet when I was younger. And I can sort of play the guitar now.”

“Sort of?” she giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck.

All of her body presses against me and I back up against the mirrored elevator wall.

My body is pressed against hers and I can feel her soft breasts between us.

She can also probably feel how hard I am in my pants.

“Yeah. A couple songs. What else?”

She narrows her eyes to think about it. “He can’t be too caught up in the idea of romance.”

“You want to marry someone who doesn’t believe in love?”

“Not doesn’t believe in it. He just can’t be unrealistic about it.”

“I’m a realist,” I say, lowering my mouth closer to hers again.

“Oh really? A clarinet playing realist?”

“I’m also good in bed.”

“Now that’s something to consider…”

“Fuck considering it. See for yourself.”

I kiss her again and the endorphins explode in my mouth like a fucking Skittles commercial.

“You are delicious,” I moan into her mouth, my hands scratching down her bare back and stopping on her ass.

I grab it in my palms, squeezing hard.

“This is another first for me,” she says.

I pull back and look at her. “Kissing in an elevator?”

“Doing anything with a guy in an elevator besides avoiding the awkward eye contact.”

I think about that.

I don’t think she’s a virgin, but she is definitely a good girl.

And good girls always want to try out being a little bad.

But I want to go slow.

I want her to feel how much she is wanted.

I kiss her again, trailing my lips down the swell of her chest.

“Let’s play a game…” I say. “It’s called how many new things can we do in an elevator before we get to floor 67 ?”

She kisses me, a sweet innocent kiss. “That’s one.”

Then I trace my fingers down the halter straps of her dress until my fingertips are hovering over her nipples.

I tuck them inside the hem and pull it down just enough to tug the front of her dress down, revealing her breasts.

Beautiful.

Then I kiss them.

“That’s two,” I say because she can’t talk.

She gasps at my touch, looking at the lights on the elevator wall showing what floor we are on.

And I swear it’s like she is praying it will go slower.

I know I am.

Still feeling like we have plenty of time, I drop to my knees and kiss her stomach.

“Three,” I kiss her hip, “Four…”

Then I lift her dress up.

I can already smell her.

Sweet, tangy, wet…

But I don’t get right to it.

I kiss her knee and thigh before lifting her leg up and setting it on my shoulder.

Slowly my mouth makes its way up her thigh, hovering right over the swell of her lace panties.

That’s got to count as five.

Maybe six.

Then, I hook my finger inside the lace and pull it aside.

And as I look up at her, her eyes meeting mine, I press the pad of my thumb to her clit and rub slowly, intentionally.

“Oh, fuck,” Amanda moans, clasping my hair in her hands.

The elevator slows and I come to my feet.

I pull her dress back up over her breasts just in time for the door to open, though she covers her chest with her hands as though she is still exposed.

Seven.

I pull Amanda down the hall to my room.

With one hand on the handle, shoving the door open, and the other hand pulling her against me to kiss her again, we stumble inside.

The door slams and she throws both arms around my neck, standing on her tip toes. Even in her heels, I’ve still got a good six inches on her.

I love it.

I bend, grab her by the thighs and lift her into my arms.

“Am I heavy?” she asks the words, if I had to guess by default.

I wonder who made her feel that way.

Who had the fucking audacity to make her doubt herself.

“Are you kidding?” I grit into her mouth, devouring her lips and tongue as I speak. “You’re fucking perfect, baby girl. My God…”

I walk into the main room and press her against the wall, devouring her neck and breasts, yanking the dress down to expose them in all their glory.

Amanda wraps her legs around me and I hold her against the wall with my weight while my hands find her breasts, clutching them, running my thumbs over her nipples until she moans.

“You like that?” I ask, teasing them between my fingertips.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“How much do you like it?”

“I’m so wet…” she whimpers.

I reach one hand down under her dress and find her pussy.

Then I groan. “Yes you are. Fuck me, baby girl. You’re dripping. Are you wet for me?”

“Yes,” she whispers, her hips grinding against my fingers, wanting, needing more.

“I want to make you mine.”

She opens her eyes and her gaze locks on mine.

“I am yours,” she tells me. “For tonight, I am yours.”

With that, I carry her over to the couch in the middle of the room and sit down with her on my lap.

She gets on her knees and pulls the dress up over her body and throws it across the room.

I undo my belt and slacks.

My cock, hard and ready, springs free.

I stop, looking at her.

She is in nothing but pink panties.

And staring, eyes wide, at my cock.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me?” I ask.

“Yes,” she nods.

“Show me.”

Amanda kisses me and my jaw works to take her tongue into my mouth.

I reach up to push the long, red locks of hair from her face, but she reaches down and wraps her hand around my dick and squeezes, running her hand up to the head.

“Fuck…” I growl into her mouth and instead of brushing her hair back, I clutch it in my hand and pull.

I worry for a split second if I am being too rough for her.

If I am too much for her.

But Amanda lowers herself onto me, answering that question pretty quickly.

My thick, hard cock slides inside of her and we both moan– her as I fill her up and me as she tightens around me.

Slowly we grind up and down, savoring the feeling of every inch of it as I glide in and out of her.

“You feel incredible,” I pant, my head falling back on the edge of the couch as she rides me.

Then I undo my shirt and shed it off, my bare chest gleaming with sweat.

It’s a much faster strip tease than I performed just hours before, but, by the look on her face, I think she likes this one better.

My hands come to her hips, clasping her soft haunches in my fists before I push her up.

Then I stand up, effortlessly taking her with me and impressing her in the process.

I walk across the room to the ceiling-to-floor window overlooking the entire city of Las Vegas, spanned below us like a diamond studded blanket.

Then I flip her over onto her hands and knees, facing the window.

I get on my knees behind her and pull her hair back.

“What if someone sees?” she asks.

But I just lean down, smirking against the shell of her ear.

“Mine for the night.”

I literally feel the chill go through her body at my words just before I drive myself inside her.

I’m still wearing my black, fitted slacks. My belt is hanging loosely from the loops. I haven’t even taken off my shoes.

But I don’t care.

Nothing else matters to me but getting inside of her.

Pleasuring her.

Making her come for the whole city to see.

With my hands on her hips, I thrust harder and harder into her, deeper and deeper, awakening feelings of want and need I didn’t know existed.

Arousal I didn’t know I could feel.

Desire I didn’t know lived in me.

“Oh God,” she lets out, pressing her hand to the window.

The glass fogs with her hot breath.

“Come for me, baby. Let go of everything and come for me.”

The colorful lights of the city outside blur to white and Amanda cries out as the orgasm rips through her.

Moments later, the same orgasm overtakes me.

I feel the rush of warmth leave my body before flooding inside of her as I come undone.

We both sit down in front of the window while the world bustles below us, unaware of the earthquake that just shattered us both.