Page 12

12

Stella

T he reception goes by in a blur of champagne, thanking people I don’t know for coming, dancing, and the best cake I’ve ever tasted that Andre was smart enough to not smush in my face.

After, we set off for what he claimed would be a short walk to our hotel. Thankfully, I packed my oversized purse with a change of clothes.

“Where’s your coat?” Andre comes to a stop as soon as we step out of the warmth of the venue and onto the chilly city sidewalk.

“I’m wearing it.” I gesture to my bolero I know won’t do much to block the wind.

“That’s not a coat,” he grumbles before he slips off his black tux jacket and holds it out for me. “Can I put this on you?”

“Now you’re gonna be cold,” I remark.

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make. Besides, it’s a short walk,” he replies, so I give him my nod of agreement, lowering my purse from my shoulder to accept the jacket. Actually, I’m surprised he bothered to get permission. I pull the material tighter to my chest, since it’s nice and warm from his body heat. That small movement makes me stagger.

“Stella,” Andre huffs my name in annoyance. His hands raise as if to catch me but don’t before I right myself. “You’re tipsy, aren’t you?”

“I’m still upright and able to walk in heels,” I remark. “So, lead the way, cowboy.”

“Cowboy? Baby, you’re barely able to walk. Besides, there is a tradition…”

“What tradition?”

“That the groom carries his wife over the threshold of their home or room on their first night.”

“Ha! There’s no way you could carry me that frickin’ far.”

“Is that a challenge as well as permission?” Andre asks as we stagger along a few more steps. I’m trying to hurry as fast as my high heels will carry me after drinking an entire bottle of champagne.

“Yes.”

Before my sloshed mind even realizes what exactly I just agreed to, Andre reaches a strong arm around my back, his other sweeping my legs up out from underneath me until I’m cradled against his chest. The man doesn’t make a sound, not even a single grunt as he strides down the sidewalk.

Unsure what to do with my hands and afraid I’m going to land on my ass any second or lose my purse, I wind my arms around his neck to hold on. “If you drop us…if you drop me, we’re getting an annulment,” I warn him.

“I’m not going to drop you,” he mutters. “Although, I do hope the hotel has an elevator.”

The image of the grumpy lawyer struggling to heft me up three or even four flights of stairs makes me giggle. The thought of more than that is preposterous.

“You’re not just tipsy; you’re drunk as fuck,” he remarks. “How many glasses of champagne did you have? I only saw you drink three.”

“I don’t know. How many glasses does it take to fill up a whole big bottle?” I smile as I lay my head on his hard chest. God, I’m exhausted. Not just physically but emotionally and mentally.

As soon as my eyes drift close, I hear, “ Stella .” Andre’s already using my name in an angry husband voice. Isn’t it too soon for him to have one of those? “How many glasses?”

“I don’t know. I lost count.”

“Give me an estimate then.”

“Seven or eight?”

“Jesus,” he growls. “Did you really need to be blackout drunk to fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” he says with a heavy sigh. I’m close enough I can almost taste the alcohol on his breath.

“How many drinks did you drink, cowboy?” I ask, words slurring.

“More than a few,” he admits. “And what’s with calling me cowboy?”

“Why did you drink so much?”

“Why do you think?” His dark, heavy-lidded eyes lower to mine, then my mouth.

“Well?”

“Because I’m married. To you.”

“Aww, are you having wittle we-grets so soon?” I ask with an exaggerated pout as I boop his nose with my fingertip. If I weren’t so wasted, I would never use that annoying baby voice, and my feelings might’ve been hurt.

“I don’t have any regrets about marrying you, big or little ones. I told you earlier. I’m just…nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because I know this is fragile, like an egg. I don’t want to drop it or accidentally sit on it.”

“Did you just call me an egg?” I ask when he slows down and approaches the doors of a hotel. Thankfully, a valet or bellboy is there and able to hold the door open for us.

“I didn’t say you were an egg. I was referring to our marriage,” Andre whispers.

“Sure, right.”

I keep quiet while he checks us in at the front desk. The woman working grins at us but doesn’t seem surprised he’s carrying me.

We get our key cards for our room on the tenth floor, which I take possession of, before Andre heads for the elevator bank.

“Guess you won’t have to strain yourself carrying me up ten flights of stairs,” I point out.

“I could handle it,” he replies confidently. “But an elevator will help me save my strength for later.”

“Oh, please!” I huff out a laugh as the elevator doors open. Andre steps into the empty car, and I reach out to press the number ten on the panel before the doors close, missing the first two attempts.

“Don’t worry. I’ll wait for you to sober up,” he says.

“Might be awhile. What are we going to do until then?”

“What do you want to do, Stella?”

“Keep drinking?”

“ No .” I like his growly, angry husband voice more than I should.

“You can fuck me if I’m drunk or pass out. In fact, I prefer that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I might kiss you or whatever to warm you up while we wait, but I want you wide awake and participating in the main event.”

“What do you mean by warm me up?”

“What’s on the table?” His voice is deeper, gruffer than a second ago.

“I told you you can fuck me tonight.”

“Yeah, and you also told me I can’t touch you without your permission, so you can see how I’m in a tight spot.”

“Not yet, but soon,” I joke with another giggle.

“Let me lick you. I bet you won’t miss your battery-operated toys once I show you what you’re missing.”

Lick me? Wow. I’m not even sure how long it’s been since a man went down on me. And while waxing was part of Cami’s wedding week preparation, I’m not sure how comfortable I’ll be with Andre’s face between my legs.

When we reach our hotel room door, he takes the key card from my hand to shove it into the reader. “It’ll help you relax,” he adds. “And if you don’t like it, I’ll stop, and I won’t touch you for the rest of the night.”

“Deal,” I agree, seizing on the loophole to get out of our agreement. Potential pleasure for me and none for him? I won’t even have to touch him. Although, I guess I have been touching him since my arms are still around his neck when he carries me into the room.

The suite is decked out in traditional, cheesy newlywed decorations. But instead of red rose petals, there are blue ones on the white comforter of the king-sized bed. There’s also champagne and a basket of sweets on the coffee table in the sitting room.

I’m not surprised Andre walks straight into the open bedroom door. When I see the two plush white robes hanging in the adjoining bathroom, I remember how snug my dress is and how it’s been difficult to breathe all night.

After Andre lowers my feet to the floor, I drop my purse, then remove his tux jacket, tossing it and my bolero onto a pale blue tufted armchair before kicking off my heels. “Mind helping me get out of my dress?” I ask as I turn my back to my new husband.

“It’s a gorgeous gown. I’ll hate to see it go, but I know I’ll love it even more on the floor.” He wastes no time lowering the zipper. Once it’s down, I press the loose material of my dress to my chest and go retrieve a robe. Slipping it on, I let the dress puddle around my feet and step out of it, feeling infinitely lighter now that I’m free.

Since I couldn’t wear a bra with the gown, and I loathe hose, I’m left in nothing but my white lace panties underneath the robe, which I tie at the waist.

When I look up, I realize Andre wasn’t even staring at me, watching me change. In fact, his back is to me as he removes his bow tie, then unbuttons the top of his white shirt and cuffs to roll them up his forearms. Bending over, he removes his black dress shoes and socks, tossing them aside.

I expect him to immediately take off his pants and shirt, but they stay on. He comes over to me, taking in my robe and bare legs silently, while I pull out all the pins from my hair.

When I’m nearly finished, he drops to his knees.

He stares up at me, so rugged and gorgeous it hurts. The man might be a fucking Ferraro and twice my size, but he looks harmless kneeling before me with his dark eyes full of longing. “Please, will you let me devour you?”

Well, he is asking and begging.

“Say yes, Stella,” he adds when I don’t give him an answer.

It dawns on me that I want this, that I want him. Maybe it’s the champagne talking, but in this moment, it’s the truth.

With shaky hands, I drop the hair pins into a robe pocket, then undo the tie. I shrug the soft material from each of my shoulders, so it joins my dress on the floor.

“So fucking perfect,” Andre mutters as his eyes rake over me, but his hands still remain fisted on his thighs. Which gives me an idea.

“No hands. You can only use your mouth.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes darken as he leans forward to press a damp kiss to my stomach, making me shiver. After a few more teasing kisses, Andre’s teeth bite the waistband of my panties and tug them all the way down my legs. When they’re out of the way, he presses his face to the apex of my thighs. His nose rubs along my sensitive flesh, causing warmth to spread through my limbs.

The first flick of his tongue makes me cry out and grab for the bathroom doorframe behind me to keep from falling over. A few more teasing flutters and Andre says, “Since I can’t use my hands to hold you up, you better lie down on the bed if you want me to keep going.”

Mercifully, he doesn’t laugh as I stagger over to the mattress. I don’t even hear him follow, but by the time I’m seated on the edge, he’s there, his face buried between my legs again.

His tongue barely swipes over the bundle of nerves, and the room spins around us. I somehow end up lying on the bed, my back arching as the pleasurable waves wrack my entire body. It’s the best, most intense orgasm of my life.

I really hope I remember it.

After the tremors fade, Andre’s mouth still doesn’t stop.

“That’s…that’s enough,” I tell him when I’m able to speak again.

“Not for me, it’s not,” he replies before his tongue penetrates me and wriggles as if trying to lap up every drop of my arousal. After a deep moan vibrates through my flesh, his dark eyes open and look up at me. “Unless you want me to stop?” Before I can respond either way he says, “I’ve got a huge dick normally, but it’s longer and harder than it’s ever been right now.”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter, hating the way my mouth goes dry at the thought of finally seeing and feeling his truth.

“That’s not a brag, just the truth,” he says. “Please come on my tongue again, baby. I’m already on my knees.”

He’s begging, that’s what he means. The man is kneeling with his face buried between my legs, and he’s asking if he can keep pleasuring me.

“Fine,” I huff. The word barely leaves my lips before the tip of his tongue is fluttering against my clit again, making me cry out, fingernails buried in the bedding. I want more, need more of his reverence. I release the comforter and thread my fingers through his soft hair. Andre groans in approval. A moment later, I’m forcefully pressing his face to my body, keeping his tongue right where it is until I come, screaming his name two more toe-curling times, too blissed out to be ashamed of my uninhibited demands.

And when Andre finally, softly asks me, “Do you want me to fuck you, mia dolce vipera ?” I don’t hesitate before I give him my answer.

“God, yes.”

* * *

Andre

Nothing has ever been as beautiful as the ecstasy on Stella’s face. Except maybe her slack, satisfied grin, her drooping eyes as she watches me hover over her when I take my place between her spread, damp thighs.

Despite her adamant agreement she wanted me inside her, I know it was mostly the orgasm endorphins talking. Or the alcohol.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask her again as I line myself up, brushing my crown along her soaked folds. “Are you going to remember this?”

“Mm-mm,” she murmurs what sounds like her agreement before giving me a small nod, her eyes locked on mine.

“Stella?”

“I want you,” she declares.

Fuck me. Those are words I never thought I would hear her say.

“Just for tonight,” she adds. Shoving my dick in the ice bucket would’ve hurt less than those words.

Still, she sounds sober enough I plan to take her up on that offer.

“I’m not wearing a condom,” I warn her in case she hadn’t noticed my bare flesh rubbing hers. Hell, I didn’t even bring any, so if Stella objects, I guess I’ll have to get dressed and go beg the lobby for one or find a bodega that’s open all night.

“I know. Now stop teasing me.” Eyes closed, she wiggles around, spreading her thighs apart to line me up.

“Are you on birth control, Stella?”

“No, that shit just makes me even bitchier.”

“Fuck, baby.” I swear my dick swells hearing her confirmation. When I come inside her tonight, I’ll be claiming her in every single way, possibly even leaving a permanent piece of myself behind, making her the mother of my child.

“If you regret this tomorrow…” I start.

Her palm slaps over my mouth. “I’m just tipsy. I will remember this. So will you please just shut up and fuck me?”

Hell yes.

I slowly begin to fill her. Stella’s tight heat embraces my cock so good that my shouted swear is muffled by her palm. I’ve never gone bare in a woman so it’s almost…overwhelming. The happy, lazy glow remains on Stella’s face for a few moments longer. But it doesn’t take long for her cerulean eyes to suddenly widen or her lips to part in a gasp. She drops her hand from my mouth and lifts her neck to look down the length of our bodies to see me for herself.

“I told you I have a huge dick,” I remind her as I rear back and then slowly thrust inside her another inch or two.

And when I say tight, I mean, God. Damn .

If I didn’t know any better, I would think my wife is a thirty-three-year-old virgin.

Her hands suddenly fly up and curl around my shoulders. Her fingernails dig into my skin as if to halt my progress. I immediately still.

“Relax, baby. We can take it slow. I’m not in a hurry.”

Stella’s eyes close on a wince, and I instantly miss the connection. “Just…get it over with.”

“Just get it over with?” I repeat indignantly. “Fuck that. You said I only get to have you once. I’m not going to pound into you and make you sore just so I can get off. I want to fuck you so damn good you can’t get enough and beg me to come inside you at least three times before the sun comes up.”

Blue eyes blink open to look up at me. “Just three times? That’s all you’ve got in you?”

A huff of laughter escapes me. “Maybe four if I can eat your pussy again. It gets me so…damn…hard…”

I slide inside of her a little more with each word, and Stella lifts her hips, now easily taking me deeper as if giving me shit helped her relax. Or the mention of going down on her again loosened her up.

“Better?” I swivel my hips, gritting my teeth to keep from slamming all the way into her.

“Yes,” she answers on a raspy whisper, her fingers slightly relaxing on my shoulders.

I slowly work my way into her slick warmth. “How long has it been since you got fucked, baby?” I brace myself for her answer, not sure if I want to hear about who she fucked just weeks ago or possibly days…

“A while.”

“How long?” I demand.

“Twelve.”

Twelve days? Fuck. We were officially engaged.

Before I can ask who the hell she’s been fucking with my ring on her finger, she adds, “Years.”

My entire body freezes above her mid pump, so I’m barely inside of her.

“You haven’t fucked anyone in twelve years ? Come on. You can tell me the truth, mia dolce vipera .”

“That is the truth!” she shouts, her fingernails digging into my shoulders again. “Now shut up and fuck me before I knee you in the balls.”

I’d like to think her anger isn’t just about me not believing her but also because after all that time, she has to be incredibly horny. No wonder she came so hard the first time my tongue barely touched her clit.

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you.” I begin to roll my hips again. “I’m going to fuck you so good you beg…me…for…more!”

I shout a swear at the same time that Stella moans underneath me when I’m finally buried to the hilt. I stay right there, as deep as I can go inside her, savoring every second, especially when her nails slide from my shoulders and down my back to dig into my flexed ass cheeks like she wants me even deeper.

I don’t move, but Stella does. Her thighs part even wider, and then she rocks her hips, grinding her clenching pussy on my dick like she’s about to come for me again.

It takes all my restraint not to move, but I hold still and let her use that part of my body like she owns it.

Well, I guess she does now.

A groan escapes me at the reminder she’s my wife now, that I’m her first in twelve-fucking-years, and I’m going to come so hard in her pussy, she may never get rid of me.

Stella whimpers as her slick walls begin to pulse around me, and I fucking lose it.

I pull back just a little and with shallow thrusts to give her what she needs, I fuck her into the mattress with my face buried in her neck, inhaling her soft hair. I could drown in her floral and apple scent while buried inside of her and die a happy man.

A happily married man.

I want to make this last, but when my wife squeezes my ass cheeks and whispers in my ear, “Come for me.” I fucking lose it.

Shoving deep, I spill my seed in her. I come so hard I temporarily go blind.

Even after I’ve finished way too fast, I don’t pull out, and Stella doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to push me off her. I brush my lips over the side of her sweaty neck, around to her jaw, and then her cheek before finding her lips.

And the way she kisses me back, shoving her tongue against mine, it instantly has me hard again.

Stella gives a little moan of surprise at my quick recovery time.

“Too soon? Are you sore?” I ask.

Her walls clench around me, giving me her answer before she says, “I can handle it. My vibrators are way bigger.”

“Bullshit,” I scoff, and her laughter while I’m buried in her feels divine. “Roll over and let me see that gorgeous ass of yours this time,” I say against her lips.

“No.” That single word is adamant and abrupt.

“No?”

“No. That’s not…” I could swear I see a hint of panic in her eyes before she blinks it away and reaches up to brush her hair out of her face. “I want to ride you this time.”

Those are my new favorite fucking words. They fall right behind the ones Stella used to tell me I could have her tonight.

The woman, apparently, hadn’t noticed I’ve been staring at her in longing for nearly half my life, or that I’d kill a room full of men just to hold her hand and have her fingers grip mine.

“Andre?” she asks when I don’t respond.

“Fuck yes. Ride me, baby.”

I pull out and flop onto my back next to her like an excited humpback whale, ready and waiting for her.

When she throws a leg over my hips and mounts me, fuck, I nearly come on my stomach. Her small hand wraps around my shaft, stealing my breath, as she strokes me up and down, then guides me to her entrance.

A second later, I forget my name, how to speak, and everything else I’ve ever learned as the gorgeous, naked woman bounces up and down on my dick like a wet dream come true, her pussy soaking wet from our first time but still tight as fuck.

Stella plants her palms on my chest, then closes her eyes as her hips work.

Not yet, not yet, not yet , I warn my leaking dick. I try not to even breathe until she gets herself off.

It doesn’t take long for my wife’s head to fall back, her long, silky black curls tickling my thighs, as she gasps and moans faster and faster until…

“ Yesss! ” she screams as she hits that peak again and rides me through the waves of pleasure. I explode before the last of her shudders ease up.

As if feeling my warm release flooding her, Stella glances down at my face and bites her bottom lip. Her entire body quakes again, like my hot cum coating her silky walls was enough to set her off again.

Is that…five orgasms for her? Jesus. I’ve never had a woman get off with me so many times in one night, much less one hour.

Guess that’s one of the benefits of fucking the viper who hasn’t had a dick inside her in twelve long years.

A nagging thought in the back of my mind threatens to intrude on my one and only night guaranteed with my wife, but I ignore it as I flip our positions for the next round.