Page 41 of Vengeful Vows

“Were you going to blow like a teenager?” She giggles.

“Maybe.” I smirk. “But I wanted to be inside you first.”

I bunch her dress around her hips, tugging aside the crotch of her panties so that she can seat herself on top of me. She does. So slowly that I’m sure she can feel every inch.

Bree lets out a long moan as she gets me to the hilt, and I grit my teeth to keep from thrusting up into her like I want. She wants to be on top, so she gets to be in charge.

Bree’s up for it, though, bracing her hands on my chest and bouncing on top of me. The slick wetness of her walls and the way her breasts bounce in my face get me close to the edge quickly, and I grab onto her hips to slow her movements.

“Wait. Just a few more minutes.”

She whines, trying to rock her hips. “But I’m so close.”

“Me, too.” I grab onto her hips, moving her on top of me slower, at a steadier pace.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Oh, that’s good.”

“So fucking good.” I kiss her neck, biting down on the base of her throat. She moans, bucking her hips, but I keep the rhythm steady.

She comes around me, pulsing, in just a few more strokes, and I only last a few more after that, my orgasm hitting me like a freight train.

Bree breathes heavily and leans down to kiss me, slow and sensuous.

I chase after her lips when she pulls away, smiling, to go to the bathroom.

I watch her walk away, her hips swaying, and I want to grab her and kiss her again, but I restrain myself.

It’s strange, really. This could almost be a real marriage if it weren’t for how things started. And more and more I’m finding I wouldn’t mind that one bit.

We stop in front of the Four Seasons. "What do you want for dinner?” It isn’t until she looks up at me that I can see how tired she is, bags under her eyes. I guess the trip has really worn her out. “What about room service?”

She smiles. “I just want to be in a bed. I plan to live there until tomorrow.”

I laugh. “Sounds good to me, princess.”

The valet takes the car, and the bellhop takes our luggage, so all I have to do is check in before we head up the elevator.

She leans against me as we get to the top floor, the penthouse suite, and I kiss the crown of her head.

Our things have arrived before us, and Bree walks in and promptly falls face down on the bed, groaning.

“Oh, God, it’s so comfortable.”

“It should be, with as much as this place costs.”

She turns over, looking up at me upside down on the bed. “Isn’t your dad paying?”

“He is, but I’ve booked this penthouse myself.”

“Let me guess. Business.”

I laugh. “No. I usually come to Vegas for pleasure.”

“Oh yeah. I heard you like Blackjack.”

I turn and blink at her. “My sisters told you that?”

She pretends to zip her lip and lock it with a key, and I chuckle.

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