Page 25 of Chasing His Bride

And it’s the moment he shatters. His cock pulsing inside me.

It takes several minutes for my breathing to regulate back to normal. Jack holds my limp body against his, kissing my neck, my head, my cheek. Anything his mouth can reach.

I don’t know what happened between us, but right now, it feels like the world is reduced to only being about me—and him.

His smile, his laugh, his wedding ring glistening on my finger.

And I should be scared of what I’ve done. I know the perils of marriage—I see it every day. But I don’t care right now. Because right now, this moment is bliss, and I never want it to end.

Chapter 9

Jack

The sunlight dances in the water as Amber stretches her toned legs out on the large-sized pool bed. Her auburn hair is tied in a messy bun on the top of her head, dark sunglasses shield her face and her tan skin resplendent against her skimpy white bikini.

She holds a romance book in her hands, reading to herself. She looks like a goddess.

Is it possible that anyone could be any hotter than my wife?

With the palm trees waving in the breeze behind her, she stops for a moment, sits and crosses her long legs as she leans back and watches people swim in the large pale blue pool.

Her attention turns to me as I watch her from the other side of the pool.

My wife smiles.

My wife.

That thought thrills me a little more than it scares me, but I’m not sure what’s going through my head. Soon we’ll be leaving each other. This isn’t real.

It isn’t.

But it’s been three days, and it feels like it is. Considering we only need to put on a display of affection when my friends are around, we do it whenever we are with each other. And right now, I want to get out of the pool and lie on top of my wife and kiss her gorgeous face, and make love to her slow and quiet.

Then I want to drag her back to our room and fuck her until she screams.

I love the feeling of being buried deep inside her body and I don’t know how I’m going to live without that once she leaves for the UK.

This is our last day together in Vegas. Today we’re leaving for New York because Amber agreed to meet my grandfather. He, as expected, isn’t easy to convince of this marriage.

But we’ve composed a plan. Once it’s over and my grandfather believes what we tell him, then we’ll end.

It’s for the best in the long run.

I just don’t know why it doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m happy to meet you,” my grandfather says, holding out his hand to Amber while flicking me a look. We’ve already had a heated discussion about how convenient he finds everything.

By everything, he means meeting someone in Las Vegas, and now I’m simply married. But I stuck to his terms, and he never said there were any more stipulations.

“Thank you, me too. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Amber says.

It’s a lie. What she’s heard is the quick version. About my family, a little about my life, and anything else for my grandfather to believe we are together.

“When will I hear of the next generation being born? Your marriage will be hard living in England when Jack is here,” my grandfather asks Amber.

I try not to splutter my drink, but I wait to hear what she says before I jump in.

“We’re going to wait until I move here, and I can’t do that until I’ve got more experience at work. I’m not long qualified,” Amber explains.

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