Page 62 of The Winning Ticket

It’s not the text that has my heart rate flying off the charts, but the photo accompanying it… Christ, the photo. She has clearly been shopping for more than bridesmaid dresses this afternoon because she’s sent me a selfie of her in a dressing room wearing the most fucking gorgeous underwear set I’ve ever seen on a woman. The deep red lace has left absolutely nothing up to the imagination.

Jake

Fuuuucccckkkk….

Little B

You like?

Jake

Fuck dinner, let’s just have dessert. Lots and lots of dessert.

Tell me you’re still wearing that…

Little B

It’s not polite to ask a woman what underwear she’s wearing, JJ.

Jake

I think we’ve more than established that when it comes to your body, Bri, I’m not fucking polite.

Little B

Such a naughty boy.

Jake

And what about you? Are you a good girl, Little B?

She doesn’t reply, and I know she’s most likely blushing like crazy right now. When I left this morning, her car was still here, so I figured she’d hitched a ride with one of the others. I can just imagine her sitting in the passenger seat, shifting while she rubs her thighs together when I ask her if she is a good girl. I worked out last weekend that she likes it a little rough but eats up any and all praise I dish out.

I finish making dinner and head into the bathroom to shower before Bri gets home.

When I come out of the bathroom, towel secured around my hips, I freeze while I take in the sight before me.

Bri is leaning against the back of the couch, hands resting along the top on either side of her hips, wearing only the lingerie from the photo. Her long blonde hair hangs in waves over one shoulder, covering one breast while she looks at me with a smile and her eyes travel over my naked torso.

I cover the distance between us in three long strides and pull her hips into mine while I crush my lips to hers.

“My god, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I whisper when I begin kissing down her throat.

She arches into me when I squeeze her ass with my hands before running one hand up her spine to the back of her neck, holding her in place when my lips return to hers.

“I missed you today,” she says between gasps.

I lift her to sit on the back of the couch, prompting her to wrap her legs around my waist while I continue to stroke her tongue with mine in a slow, deep kiss.

“I’ve missed you all week,” I say, pulling away slightly to look down at her breasts while they strain against the flimsy lace that covers them. “This is my new favourite bra.” I lean down to suck on her nipple through the lace, and she moans before letting her head drop back and arching her back.

“I bought more. Lot’s more,” she says, her breath uneven, and she runs a hand through my hair while I continue to suck.

Shifting so that I’m holding her with one arm firmly around her back, I bring my free hand up to her other breast and begin rolling the nipple between my fingers, giving it the occasional pinch that makes her writhe against me.

“I can’t wait to see them all.” I lower myself to my knees and push her legs apart, and she steadies herself with both hands on either side of her hips. “Can’t wait to fuck you in all of them.” Pulling her forward so that she’s on the very edge, I bring both of her thighs over my shoulders, running my nose along her inner thigh while she gasps.

“What about dinner?” she whispers, and I smirk up at her from between her legs.

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