Page 4

XAVIER

M y mother and father loved Maria, just as I knew they would, and she played her part perfectly. I could tell she was starting to come to terms with what was about to happen between us, and it was a relief, knowing I wasn't going to have to drag her down the aisle.

This morning, the hired staff is setting up the site of the ceremony down by the water while I watch them from the windows. It's a gorgeous day, sunny with a cool breeze, and my stomach is in knots.

It's almost time to get married.

I tug at the sleeves of my tux, wondering how my bride is handling everything.

She refused to have anyone else present for her besides her father, and knowing she's getting ready all on her own makes me feel a hint of unexpected guilt.

I'm pulling this woman's family business out of the gutter.

I shouldn't feel bad for her, but that hesitation creeps in anyway.

Maybe I should go and see her. It's not like we need to worry about the bad luck of my seeing her in her dress before the ceremony. Every bit of this is a sham .

Restless, I make my way to her guest room and knock once. I can hear her inside, shuffling around, and after a moment, I hear her call, "Come in."

Her tone is watery, so it's no surprise when I open the door and find her dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

That's the only thing that isn't a surprise, though.

Maria is fully dressed for the ceremony, hair done up in an artful pile of curls at the top of her head, makeup applied with expert precision.

Her dress fits perfectly, the neckline dipping down just enough to show off the swell of her breasts and the delicate curve of her collarbone.

The skirt clings to her hips and then falls loose to the floor, making it look like she's gliding as she turns to face me.

"Hi," she whispers, pressing a hand to her throat. "Um, does everything look okay?"

I have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching for her. She's fucking stunning, and my brain can't seem to comprehend that while she is my bride, it's fake. I'm hit with that attraction from the first time I saw her again, but this time the force of it is tenfold.

I want to kiss her perfectly painted mouth.

I want to hike up her pristine white dress and thrust into her until she's screaming my name.

"Xavier?"

I realize I've been silent for too long, and while I don't grab her the way I want, I still come into the room and shut the door behind me. "You look perfect."

She gives me a small, unsure smile, but the wobble of her bottom lip tells me tears aren't far.

"What's wrong? "

It's a stupid question. I'm forcing her into a marriage, into leaving her home and moving into mine, but asking is instinctual. She makes me want to protect her, even if deep down I know I'm the one causing her pain.

"I..." Maria inhales in small, gulping breaths as she tries to hold back her tears. "I think I'm losing my mind, because I'm not upset that this has to happen anymore. Now I'm afraid I'm going to mess this up in front of everyone and disappoint you, and..."

She can't finish, but my chest feels tight, even as I come forward and pull her unceremoniously into my arms. "Hey," I murmur, stroking the back of her hair, "you're not going to mess it up. It's a wedding. Simple. Scripted. No pressure.”

"There is when your dad is dying and he wants you to be happy!

" Her voice rises, panic clear as she presses her face against my shoulder.

"I'm already letting him down by not being someone you actually care about.

I don't want to mess up and make him think you're miserable or disappointed with me.

Then all of this will have been for nothing! "

Gently, I lift her chin so she has to look at me. She's wearing some kind of makeup that makes her eyes even bigger and darker, and they look impossibly wide right now. "I wouldn't worry about that. My father adores you."

"He's only met me once."

"Trust me," I tell her, letting my thumb drift gently over her cheekbone. "You make one hell of a first impression."

Maria's hands have come up to rest on my chest, fingers spread, and I wonder if she can feel my pulse kicking into overdrive even through the tuxedo. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really want to know?"

She nods .

"My first impression of you was how damn bad I wanted to do this."

Her face is still tilted up to mine, and it makes it all too easy to slant my mouth over hers, uncaring about her lipstick or how goddamn awful my timing is.

Maria gives a small yelp of surprise, but she melts into me immediately, that invisible bond between us surging forward until neither of us can resist. Her hands grab fistfuls of my suit jacket while one of mine goes to the back of her neck, careful not to mess up her hair, no matter how much I want to pull it down and feel the curls running through my fingers.

My other hand goes down to her gorgeous round ass as I haul her against me, making her moan against my lips.

It's been torture having her so close over the past few days and not being able to touch her.

I knew from the jump that wanting her so badly was going to be a problem, but I'm a stupid man sometimes.

I nip at Maria's bottom lip, dragging another whimper from her throat as I grind her hips against mine.

She can probably feel how hard I am for her right now, and the thought of that makes my cock throb.

I go back to my earlier fantasy of fucking her in this silky little dress, but one glance at the clock on the wall has that idea quickly dying.

Maybe I can have half of that fantasy, though. Maybe there's a way I can see this dress up around her hips without us being late to our own damn wedding.

The kiss has grown frantic, and I suck at a tender spot behind her ear while she gasps and quivers in my grasp. Maria is so sensitive and receptive that it's making it hard to control myself. I know she'll take everything I can give her, and I'm starving to see pleasure overtaking her face.

I back us up until Maria's knees bump against the wooden vanity, and before she can register what's happening, I've hauled her up onto it, her legs spread where I stand between them.

It's been the longest our lips haven't been connected since I first kissed her, and now she's looking at me with a dazed expression on her face.

"Xavier..." Her voice is breathless. "We can't do this now. We have to get ready."

"We'll make it," I assure her, leaning in to press my lips at the swell of her cleavage. "Trust me, baby. You're going to feel so good, and I promise we won't be late."

She lets out a long breath, and I can hear the moment she gives in, her whole body relaxing under my hands as she spreads her thighs a little more.

Just like I'd been thinking about since the second I walked into the room, I push her dress up her thighs, careful not to damage the delicate fabric, but almost frantic to see all of her legs and thighs bare for me.

She lifts herself up just enough, and finally the skirt is bunched around her waist, and I can be body to body with her once more.

I barely have time to take in the fact that she's wearing white lace panties before her legs are snaking around my hips and pulling me close. My cock grinds against her core, and I groan at the friction, gripping her ass to maintain the connection.

"God, I've been thinking about this," I admit, rocking against her, my lips at her ear. "About getting to touch you."

Maria makes a strangled noise, her hands gripping my shoulders as if they're the only thing tethering her to the earth. I ravage her mouth, my tongue gliding against hers, my fingers creeping up over the elastic band of her panties as I start to work them down.

"What," she pants between hot kisses, "what are we even doing?"

"I'm gonna take the edge off," I tell her, coaxing her to lift her ass up. "I'm gonna make you come, Maria, so I'm the only thing on your mind for this wedding. "

She nods as I slide the lace down her legs, and then I'm back between her thighs, pushing them apart so I can look my fill. Her pussy is swollen and wet, her clit begging to be touched. Begging to be licked.

"Fuck, baby, you're soaked," I mutter, my voice low and rough. I let my fingers glide through the wetness. "Have you been thinking about me?"

"I'd be lying," she manages to say, bracing herself with her hands on the vanity top, "if I said no."

I grin at her, loving that she's not being shy, that she's giving in to this. "Good." I push one finger inside of her, watching her bite her lip. "From the first second I saw you, I wanted to get my mouth on you."

"Oh, God," she gasps as I push another finger inside her, stroking her inner walls as her cunt squeezes around me. She's so tight and wet. I can't wait to fuck her, but right now I need to taste her too badly to worry about myself.

"Grab onto the edge," I command as I fuck her with my fingers. She does as she's told, leaning back against the mirror as her hands grip the wooden sides of the vanity. When she's situated, I push her thighs apart and kneel, burying my face between them, licking a hot trail up to her pussy.

She bucks, crying out as my tongue brushes over her clit, then my lips wrap around it and suck.

Her whole body arches, her head falling back as she works herself against me.

It's sexy as hell, watching her lose herself like this.

She's not thinking about anything other than the pleasure I'm giving her, not her hair, or her makeup, or the fact we're about to get fucking married, and I love it.

I use my hands to keep her thighs wide open as I devour her, sucking her clit, nibbling at it, sliding my fingers back into her and setting a slow, torturous pace with them. She writhes and moans, her pussy tightening as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

"Xavier," she gasps. "Oh God. "

I hum against her, my stubble dragging against her inner thigh as she shivers.

I can feel her getting wetter, hearing it as I move my fingers in and out.

She's so close, and I want her so badly that my cock is like iron.

But there's no time, and I refuse to be late to our own wedding because I can't control myself.

I want to drag this out, to have her a sweating, writhing mess by the time I finish, but I know I can't. So I crook my fingers inside her, finding the different texture of her g-spot, and repeat the motion until she's all but sobbing my name.

I'm relentless, stroking her, sucking on her clit, not stopping or letting up until I feel her inner walls start to spasm.

"Xavier," she says. "Xavier, don't change a thing, I'm going to?—"

Her voice cuts off with a hoarse cry, and she comes, the hands she's so carefully kept away from my combed hair giving in as she rakes her nails against my scalp, her body riding my face. I keep my mouth on her, licking and sucking her through it, until finally her shaking thighs begin to still.

When I stand, my mouth is still wet from her, and I wipe it on the back of my hand while she pants and recovers. It's a sight I never want to forget, her dress pushed up around her waist, her legs splayed open on the vanity, her face flushed and eyes glassy as she catches her breath.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Maria," I say, unable to stop myself. "And you taste so goddamn good."

She shivers, eyes drifting closed. "I want to make you feel that good, too," she says softly.

I lean in to press a kiss to her throat, where her pulse is racing under her skin. "Later."

Her eyes fly open. "What?"

"Later," I repeat. "Right now, we've got a wedding to get to. "

She looks down at herself, pivoting on the now-shaky vanity to see her lipstick smeared and her gathered curls listing to one side. "Oh, shit."

I can't help but laugh, adjusting my throbbing manhood and helping her down from the vanity. "Oh shit is right. Let's get the lipstick off both our faces before we're late."

"But—"

I press a finger against her swollen lips. "No buts, Maria. You listen to me, and I'll get us through this."

There's an argument ready to burst out of her mouth, but she swallows it down and nods once.

"Good girl."