Page 53 of Accidental Vegas Vows

I swallowed my pride. I pulled my lips from him.

I looked him dead in the eye.

“Until it’s over, then,” I breathed. “Give me that.”

The hand that held my neck rounded to the front, cupping my cheek, holding me in place as he stared directly into me. “What are you saying?”

“Until the annulment is done, you’re still my husband, and I’m still your wife.”

His thumb swiped across my cheek, his lips parted, his breathing just a little heavy. “Like an expiration date.”

I nodded as I freed the button of his pants, my fingers trailing along the top of his boxers. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he grunted. He pulled me to him, pressing his forehead against mine, the swelling beneath my core and between his thighs growing harder. “Yes.”

Chapter 18

Damien

The feeling of her sinking onto my cock was something I would never, ever get tired of.

Right fucking there at the table, her shorts lost in the pile of glass on the floor, my shirt that was far too large for her hanging limply around her body. She clutched my shoulders like a vice as she sank, impaling herself, stretching herself far more than she was ready for. I didn’t even have lube on me — but she didn’t seem to need it. Not with how much she had been leaking across the front of my pants, not with how fucking slick she was as she’d dragged the head of my cock against her slit.

Her face scrunched in pain as she paused, her breathing shaky, half of me inside of her and the other half exposed to the wind chill. Twilight was in full swing behind me, lighting her in soft pinks and blues, and my God, she looked stunning. Anything she did, she looked otherworldly, but tonight, with her lips parted and her hair up, barely a smidgeon of makeup and wearing my clothes, she had the power to destroy me.

It felt like she might.

Dragging a hand up her thigh, I slipped it between us, lifting the fabric of the shirt and dipping my fingers into her dampness. I could feel her pulse hammering on her swollen, molten hot clit, and I swirled my digits against it, fighting that sting of pain she was feeling and dampening it.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, her forehead falling to mine, her lips just a breath from me. Slowly, gently, her legs met mine, and her warmth enveloped me completely.

I kissed her as she stilled, accommodating me, her walls twitching around my cock. She took every movement of my lips greedily, hastily, needy — God, I wanted nothing more than to stay like this for as long as possible. As long as she’d let me.

“I’ve only seen this in porn,” she mumbled against my lips. “So I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing.”

As much as it pained me to release my hold on the back of her neck, I relented, dragging it down along her fabric-covered back before cupping her rear. “I’ll show you,” I rasped.

She followed the push of my hand, dragging her hips forward against me and the slip of my fingers in a grinding motion, a steady little moan slipping past her lips. I guided her back, angling myself just a little better, feeling the slide of her walls release me little by little before bringing her straight back toward me. The temptation to drop my head onto the cushions, to feel her, to give myself a moment to drink her in like the embodiment of perfection that she was, almost got the better of me. But I stayed upright. I watched her.

“Christ,” I groaned. “You feel so fucking good, princess.”

Her shallow breaths stuttered, her fingers weaving into my hair and tightening around the short strands. The moment I knew she was confident with her movements and didn’t need my guidance, I let my hand that wasn’t preoccupied with driving her closer to the edge wander.

Slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt, my fingers dragged across the bare skin of her back, following the divot of her spine up, up, up?—

No bra. No fucking bra. All day.

Fuck.

The temptation to lift her off my cock, flip her around, and force her face down across the table atop the dishes and food so that I could take her, claim her, fuck myself into her over and over until she was shrieking my Goddamn name, was nearly overpowering. I dug my nails into her flesh instead, right where her bra would have been. I bared my teeth to her.

“Fucking temptress?—”

Glass shattered again somewhere behind her.

She stilled in my lap, her ragged breaths filling the space between us with warm air. I stilled the movement of my fingers between her thighs and with one little shift, I looked over her shoulder.

Sarah stood in the doorway, her face pink and her hand clutching a bottle of champagne. Across the floor, broken glass reflected the last little rays of light, along with a discarded black tray and cracked macarons littering the polished wood floor. Liv’s heart thundered in her chest, loud enough that I could hear it, hard enough that I could feel it against my hand.

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