Page 45 of Embracing Us

“Luckily, between you and Jackson, I have everything I’ll ever need.” He kisses my cheek, then walks over to the bed, laying me down on the white silk sheets. “You were magnificent when you walked down the aisle. To me, you are always beautiful, but today, I could hardly speak when I saw you.” He sits down on the edge of the mattress, his fingers stroking my cheek. “In that moment, I knew I was the luckiest man on the planet. That you had come to pledge yourself to me, and me to you in return.”

He trails his hand over my throat to my chest, then traces the edge of the neckline on my dress. “Is the no underwear rule still in force?” he asks, his breathing increasing in speed fractionally. A single finger dips beneath the fabric gliding across the top of my breasts. “None found in my assessment so far.” I push myself up, leaning back on my hands, the action pushing my breasts upwards as I throw my head back.

“Maybe you need to take a closer look,” I suggest.

“I’d be delighted to, Mrs Gordon.” One strong finger slips under the thin satin strap, pushing it gently off my shoulder. He repeats the process with the other side. The low neckline falls deeper, exposing all of my breasts only leaving my nipples covered. “No underwear so far,” he murmurs. “Maybe I need to check down below.” My nerves rise. What I did seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, I feel embarrassed. When he sees it, he’ll laugh, and it will ruin what should have been a sexy night. He lifts the hem of my dress, sliding it upwards deliberately. The material glides over my skin, coming to a stop mid-thigh.

“Am I going to be pleasantly surprised, Beautiful? Have you kept to our deal?” I laugh softly, my tone nervous. He pushes the material further up, and the tiny diamantes sparkle under the soft evening light. Eager emerald eyes glimpse up, and he smirks. “Ass up,” he says, firmly. “I need a closer look at this artwork.”

My hips lift off the bed as instructed. The remainder of my skirt pushed above my waistline. He moves to kneel between my legs then leans down, placing a large hand on either side of my body. The mattress dips slightly. His nose lowers until it is almost touching my clit.

“Can we pretend this didn’t happen?” I whinge, completely embarrassed. “It was a stupid idea.”

“M.R.S.G.O.R.D.O.N,” he spells out, emphasising each letter, then drops a kiss on my public bone. When he looks up at me, a diamante has attached itself to his lip.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” I groan, throwing my arm across my face. “You have a gem on your lip.” He rubs at it with his hand to remove the imposter. “So much for my sexy alternative to underwear.” Pulling my legs from his sides, I swing them out of the bed and stand. My dress resumes its original position, covering my lower half. Max rises behind me and wraps a firm arm around my middle, his lips coming to my ear.

“You had a vajazzle for me, Beautiful,” he whispers. His warm breath tickling my skin.

“It was meant to be sexy,” I mutter, annoyed with myself for being so stupid. What woman in their mid-forties gets diamantes stuck on their private parts? Not merely a glittery decoration to guide him where he’s to go but to also have his name spelt out. What was I thinking? “I’ll go wash it off.” I step forward, but his rock-hard arm stops me, holding on tight.

“Why?”

“Because it was a stupid idea,” I mutter. He whips me around, then bends me over by pushing my head down. I place my hands on the bed to support myself. With one arm locked around my waist, he lifts my dress, exposing my bare backside with the other. I hear the click of a belt buckle, then the leather hits the floor at my feet. My knees bend to rest on the bed.

“Stay standing, legs straight.” His voice is sharp. My limbs uncurl on order. His hand works between my butt cheeks and his crotch, every so often skimming my flesh, I assume undoing the buttons of his trousers. A few moments later, his hard cock is resting against my arse. He flexes his hips. “Does this feel like a man who doesn’t like what he sees?”

“No,” I answer, my words barely audible.

“You do understand, Beautiful, you could stick pictures of fucking Donald Duck down there, and I’d still want to fuck you.” A snicker escapes me. “My cock will always want to be inside you. The fact you had our name spelt out in diamonds, well, that’s quite endearing.”

“Embarrassing.”

“No, endearing.” He pulls my hips towards him, his dick nudging my cheeks further apart. With his free hand, he trails a finger from the base of my spine up my back. It catches the material of my dress. He pushes the obstruction forward so it falls over my head. “Keep your legs straight,” he orders as his hand releases my middle.

There is the sound of liquid being squeezed from a bottle, then skin rubbing on skin. His hands move to play with my ass, treating each butt cheek to attention with deft fingers. As I wait for his next move, my anticipation builds, each touch bringing more pleasure. He parts my legs wider with strong hands, one reaches between them, the pads of his fingers gliding over the little stones bearing his name.

“Mrs Gordon, it really does have a ring to it. Don’t you think, Beautiful?”

“Uh-huh,” I agree, unable to say much more. I’m completely lost at the ends of his magic fingers. The beginnings of a pussy-ripping orgasm noticeable within me.

“How do you want me to take you for the first time as my wife?” he whispers. “I know doggy-style is your favourite, when I have you bent over and fill you up from behind. But, do you have a more traditional request? Or will you be a dirty little bride and be fucked to hell and back with your face against the sheets?”

“I’ll go with option two, the dirty one. Nothing else about us is bloody traditional.” He laughs, then starts massaging my clit with his finger between my legs.

“I was hoping you would say that.” The motion triggers the buzz that signals my orgasm building further. As he continues to tease me, he slides a single thick finger inside me. My pussy clenches around him. He forces a second in after the first. “My wife is needing some attention, I see.” He pumps gently, encouraging my body to relax and accept his body.

“This is what is going to happen,” he says. All I can do is listen to him, frozen somewhere between the tingling on my clit and my wet pussy sucking in his fingers – the sensation of impending release completely consuming. “First, I’m going to make you come like this, bent over with your dress over your head.” His fingers drive harder, hooking around to hit my G-spot. “Once I’ve watched you come over my hand, you can decide how I sink myself inside that pussy of yours and make you come again around my dick.”

“You’re promising me two orgasms,” I spit out between gulps of air. “It’s not good to overpromise.”

“Beautiful, I’ve only told you the beginning. Tonight, we are entering phase one of being Mr and Mrs Gordon. I’m going to leave you with no doubt as to whose cock owns this body of yours. I loved fucking you as my partner, but I’m telling you now, as my wife, I’ll relish it.”

The thrusts become more urgent. “Fuck,” I hiss through gritted teeth. He takes that as a sign to go harder, pushing my body further. His teeth sinking into the skin on my butt cheek not only surprises me but triggers my release. The orgasm tears through me, my body shattering with arousal. He continues his exploration, never removing his fingers. Never giving me a moment to recover.

“Number one,” he whispers. “What is your request for number two?”

“What’s your favourite position?” I ask him.

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