Page 13 of Accidental Vegas Vows

“No,” she rasped. “Please… don’t stop.”

I slipped a single digit just a little bit further back. It slid inside of her with ease.

Her warmth enveloped me, tight and hot and damp, and it was like a switch flipped. I fucking lost myself in her, pumping her, curling the end of my finger until she gasped against the side of my face, her panting turning to music. My cock throbbed, aching behind the prison wall that was my zipper, and I had to tell myself that I could handle not taking her right that instant. I could handle doing less than everything if I needed to.

Effortlessly, I slipped another finger in, using the base of my palm against her clit as my digits stretched her walls. “Damien,” she moaned, her head turning toward mine, each gasp coming quicker.

I kissed her again, quieting her. But it wasn’t impulsive this time — no, it was precise, hungry, and almost gluttonous as I devoured her, and she gave it right back. My fingers worked her, pumping in and out like I wanted to do with my hips, her body coming so easily undone beneath me. She was heaven, and she was Goddamn sin, and by the end of the evening, I was certain we’d be entirely consumed by the latter.

But I wanted more now. I wanted the entirety of her fucking body to myself, so much it felt like a roaring fire at my back pushing me ever forward.

Her walls tightened around my fingers, her frantic breathing only elevating. Replacing the base of my palm with my thumb, I swirled it like I had with my fingertips, giving her just an ounce of extra pressure on the bundle of nerves that drove her mad. The moment I felt her body stiffening beneath me, I held my pace and broke my lips from hers.

“Just imagine how much fucking better this would feel if it were my cock,” I rasped, my mind getting the better of me.

Those wild eyes met mine again, too many horrible thoughts floating behind them. I wanted to make more of those, wanted to plant the seeds and let them bloom over the time we had tonight. I wanted her. God, I wanted her, wanted what we couldn’t—no, shouldn’t—have.

“You want that, don’t you?” I smirked down at her, watching as her gaze flicked between my eyes and my lips, her mouth popping open as if she wanted to speak but quickly closing. “You want to be filled. Claimed. Dripping my fucking cum.”

Every word out of my mouth only made my resistance weaker and my desperation stronger, but with the way she was clenching around me, I could tell it made it so much better for her.

“Damien,” she gasped, one hand wrapping around my wrist and holding it in place. A silent request — don’t stop. “Please, I…”

“Come,” I ordered. “Show me just how much you want me to fuck you.”

Her mouth parted and her walls closed in as her body released, and before she could make a sound, I pressed my lips to hers. The kiss was sloppy and messy, but I didn’t fucking care, not when she was pooling her juices in the palm of my hand, not when her nails were digging so hard into me I thought they might break the skin.

I pulled her through her orgasm, dulling my movements, only stopping once I was positive she’d reached the point of sensitivity instead of pleasure. Her little sounds against my lips slowed, turning back into wanting moans instead of gasping breaths, but I wasn’t about to give her more than she needed. At least not yet.

Slipping my hand from her underwear, I broke my mouth from hers. I gave myself the chance to inspect the mess she’d made despite knowing what it would do to me. Strings of her dampness connected my fingers, crystal clear and viscous, and the blush that spread across her cheeks almost dragged my attention back to her.

She shimmied her hips and her dress fell back into place, her footing almost being lost. I held her up, and she hummed her approval of it.

“I’m going to ruin you,” I rasped, pressing a kiss against her cheek. I splayed my damp fingers across her jaw, holding her in place as I nipped at the skin of her neck, kissed it, sucked at it. I wanted to do the same between her legs. “Come back to my suite with me.”

“I think I need another drink,” she laughed.

————

Drunk and stumbling, we found ourselves at the top of the Mandalay Bay inside their scenic bar. We drank more, consumed more, keeping the buzz going and slipping a little bit further into drunken debauchery.

There was nowhere for us to hide. My only solution was renting a private balcony that was secluded enough to be fit for purpose in our haze, and as we slipped out the doors and pulled the blustering curtains closed, I didn’t have the patience to wait to touch her again.

But she was on me before I could even get the chance to pounce.

Her mouth met mine, flooding my senses with lavender and the lingering taste of the limoncello shot she’d downed moments ago. She kissed me as if she needed it, and I met her fervor, lifting her dress with one hand and gripping her by the back of her neck with the other.

Hooking one finger on the string of her underwear, I slipped them down her thighs, breaking from her lips momentarily to tug them off from her heeled feet. I tossed them off the ledge of the balcony, and to my utter surprise, she didn’t even notice.

I pushed her down onto the couch, the lower half of her dress gathering around her hips.

I sank to my fucking knees in front of her.

The taste I’d had back at the Delano wasn’t enough. But I was content to torture myself just a little bit longer as long as I was staying between her thighs.

“Have you had someone's mouth on you before?” I asked her, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“No. But I think I like you down there.” The smile that crept across her cheeks did little to hide the growing blush that coated almost the entirety of her face. Any hints of hesitation had been abandoned back at the Delano, and she was being bold now. “What do you think my desk mate would say if you were like this beneath?—”

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