Page 54 of Accidental Vegas Vows

“I’m sorry,” Sarah fumbled, her eyes frantically darting between me, Olivia, and the mess across the floor. She squatted down, her shorts tightening and tugging at her skin, her hand reaching out toward the broken glass.

“Stop,” I barked, the echo of my voice bouncing off the glass walls and windows.

Sarah froze. Liv’s body trembled, her walls clenching around me. I dropped my hand from her back, letting the shirt fall back into place, completely covering her rear and where we joined. I didn’t dare remove the fingers between her thighs, though.

“Leave it,” I said, my voice coming out too rough, too gravelly. “Just leave it, please. Go.”

I could see the shift in Sarah’s throat as she swallowed even from where I sat. She stood.

“Go,” I repeated.

She retreated, her eyes lingering every step of the way, each footstep almost louder than the wind and the engines behind us. But the door closed behind her, and she was gone, and all I was left with was a shuddering Olivia in my lap, her pussy still wrapped around my aching cock.

“I’m so sorry?—”

Liv’s creeping laughter cut me off, her body still shaking, her walls clenching with every breathy chuckle. “Don’t,” she grinned. “Don’t apologize.”

Brows furrowing, I took her face in my free hand, caressing the curvature of her jaw. “Why?”

Beaming lips parted on a hasty little breath, her pupils blown wide as fucking saucers. Her hips moved forward, my cock burying inside of her so fucking easily, my fingers slipping against her clit. She was dripping.

Dear fucking God. I should have known from the way she’d responded to our public indecency back in Vegas that she was only excited by this. I was a Goddamn idiot to have forgotten.

I pushed my hand back, slipping between the tied-up strands of her messy bun, and latched on. She hissed her approval as I tightened my grip, pulling her head back, forcing her chin to jut out at me as she looked me dead in the eyes.

“Little fucking exhibitionist, aren’t you?” I laughed, nipping at the tip of her chin.

Her cheeks heated, little flushes of pink blistering out across her face. “Maybe.”

I slipped my fingers from between us and sank my teeth into her pouting lower lip. “Maybe,” I mocked, raising my hand, inspecting the threads of her arousal that dripped in perfect little beads down the sides of my fingers. “Look how fucking wet that got you.”

Her hips shifted again, slowly restarting their movement. I used my grip on her scalp to turn her head, to force her to look at the mess she’d created.

I could barely see a hint of green irises around her pupils as she locked her gaze on it. “Open,” I ordered, and her lips parted immediately. “Clean it up, princess.”

My fingers slipped across her tongue, the silken hot feeling of it only making me harder inside of her. I couldn’t help but imagine her mouth wrapped around me instead, the heat of it, the softness of the back of her throat, the little muffled sounds she’d make. The way her hands would wrap around my thighs, the way she’d drip onto the fucking floor, the way I’d practically edge myself by watching her clean it up with her mouth.

I wanted to do so many things with her, to her. I wanted to reach new lows of depravity.

Her mouth popped as she released my fingers, damp and coated in a thin layer of saliva but pristinely cleaned of her. One hand pressed against my chest and her other buried between her thighs and taking care of my job, she moaned, her walls clenching around me.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

She stilled.

“I don’t think I did,” I growled, tightening my grip on her hair. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her clit. Almost instinctively, she began grinding on my cock again, seeking friction, seeking more. “Fucking greedy little thing.”

“Touch me, then,” she whined. Her nails into the bare flesh of my chest, leaving little half-moon indents. “Please.”

“You’re so lucky I’m generous, princess.” Releasing her wrist, I slipped my fingers back into position between her parted lower lips, giving her too much pressure. She shuddered in my lap, her body trying to retreat from the intensity, but I kept her locked in position as she fucked herself on me. “Say thank you. I could just as easily ignore your clit altogether and keep you desperate and on the edge all fucking night.”

Her breathing quickened and her walls clenched my cock so hard I thought she might expel me. “You wouldn’t let me come?” she whimpered, her voice echoing an air of betrayal, but her eyes, fuck, they looked so Goddamn intrigued. Her movements were choppy, messy, desperate, and I lessened the pressure just a hair on her clit, giving her a little bit more of what she wanted.

“Fuck, you like that idea, don’t you?” I laughed. She nodded weakly, her little sounds telling me she was close. I was getting there myself. “Don’t tempt me, Olivia. I am more than willing to tease you all fucking night, touch you in all the wrong ways, never let you find that release, have you begging me. I—fuck, fuck, I’d kill for that. You look so Goddamn pretty when you beg, princess. Shit, oh my God.”

I could barely find the words I wanted to say, could barely fucking think with her moving the way she was. I wanted to stop touching her, wanted to do what I was saying, but she moaned so prettily, she felt so Goddamn good that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My composure was breaking, and so was hers, and neither of us stood a chance for much longer.

But I didn’t want it to end. And right then, emotions firing on all fucking cylinders and the only head I was thinking with was that of my cock, I stopped. I stopped everything.

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