Page 3 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

“Feels right though, eh?” He grins widely and somewhat crookedly, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other.

I fall into his blue eyes. Biting my lip, I rest my head against his chest as he strokes my hip, then my thigh. Nothing is supposed to feel this real, especially in a night. “It feels perfect.”

“Know what else will be perfect, Beck Casey?” he asks, his gaze growing darker with just the right amount of impatience and desire.

“What?” I wind my arms around his neck.

“This.” He pushes my thighs further apart as he lowers to his knees in front of me and blows a warm breath between my legs.

“Oh.” My eyes roll back in my head as he puts his mouth to me, pulling my hips forward and tilting me backwards. I knot my fingers in his hair, my new ring glinting much brighter than the ones on my right hand.

What? Hold up! Just wait one second. I flip my hands over. Good Lord, did I somehow put the wrong ring on the wrong finger? And did it accidentally grow a diamond? Right hand; garnet and gold ring that my dad gave me for my twenty-first birthday, silver Claddagh from Liv from when we hit ten years of friendship, pearl and titanium engagement ring from my mother’s first marriage. Left; wire ring from Liv that she gave me when we were ten, back before money became part of her identity, and the tiny sapphire pinkie ring I had to have. Phew, everything is where it’s meant to be. Except this whopping big princess cut diamond.

Princess cut? Whopping big diamond? Oh hell no. It’s stuck too. No amount of twisting is moving this thing from the base of my ring finger. Engagement ring? Did I somehow end up engaged last night?

Stumbling out of the bathroom, completely focused on the ring, I whack my knee into the coffee table. I stare down at the glass top and my bruised knee. Whoa. Deja vu.

Climbing onto the glass topped table, I stretch like a cat, arching my back and then sticking my ass in the air as I stare at him over my shoulder. I’m still a little wet from the shower. Sex and soap scents the air.

“Fuck, that’s a view,” he says, coming up behind me. He’s still naked from the shower, his skin glistening with water droplets. They bead at the end of his hair and in his scruff too.

I don’t know how many times we’ve had sex tonight. Can’t keep them straight, but my body is on fire like never before. From the moment we met there was something about him that couldn’t be ignored. “You like me like this, Mr. Casey?”

“Like isn’t the word I would use.” He growls as he tugs me to the edge of the glass, pressing his naked hardness against my seam. His thumb dips into my entrance and then slides up between my ass cheeks to press against my asshole. “I’m going to fuck you everywhere. That is, if you’ll let me.”

I let out a low moan, dropping my head as he massages some of my wetness into that area. I’ve never been touched there, never thought I’d want to be. A deep ache starts inside me when he slips two fingers into my entrance and his thumb digs in that little bit deeper, and maybe yes, I want him to fuck me where no one else has before. I’m shaking, breathless, on the verge of yet another orgasm. “I’ve never…” He does something with his thumb inside me that has me seeing stars. “Oh God, please.”

“Mrs. Casey,” he says, smearing my wetness from my pussy to my asshole, before replacing his thumb with two fingers. “My beautiful wife, I’m going to take very good care of you.”

“Morning, wifey.” A rough, masculine voice, that’s a little woken up scratchy, breaks through my memory.

I swing my hands down across my butt in a protective motion, placing them one over the other behind me, though it’s apparently far too late. Did I really let him fuck me up the…? No. No way. Just no. I wouldn’t do that. Would I? And wifey? Did we get…? Not just engaged to a stranger, but married? I wouldn’t let him stick his cock in my ass and m-marry him too. Would I? That’s crazy. That’s two out of my big three never-ever-will-I’s right there. Turning around, I find him watching my hands with a smirk on his face. “H-hello.”

“Come back to bed.” He pats the mattress beside him invitingly, those sexy blues drifting from my arms to my face, and everywhere in between. They are way too familiar. Friendly and bold.

“No, I’ll just…” I glance around the hotel room. What was I wearing last night?

“Your dress is there.” He nods at the chair closest to the bed, where a white lace garment is draped over the arm.

“Thank you.” I walk over and snatch it up. Of course it’s white, and absolutely not what I started the night in. I pull it on over my head and lo and behold I can see my underwear through it. When we arrived, I’d been wearing a blue dress, not this... mockery of a wedding dress.

Mr. Casey doesn’t seem to mind though, if the way his mouth turns up even more on one side is anything to go by. Without taking his eyes off me, he sits up further and scrubs a big hand through his hair. The action doesn’t do a damn thing to make it any less messy perfect. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry. I can order room service.”

“Actually.” I find my heels, again white, tucked under the edge of the bed and slip them onto my feet. “I was going to go get coffee. I have to find out what happened to my friend.”

“Liv, right?” He climbs off the bed and prowls toward the bathroom, the muscles in his back rippling as he stretches his arms out to the side and over his head. His ass belongs to Adonis, chiselled from rock, and when he moves, his muscles are as fluid as my mouth right now.

I wipe the back of my hand across my chin just in case, but thankfully it comes away dry. “Yes.”

I don’t know if that yes is in answer to him asking if she’s my friend, or if that’s my name, or if I want him to pound me into the mattress again. I slowly back toward the door.

“Lovely woman, that friend of yours.” He turns around.

I will not glance down. I will not let my gaze wander. Oh look, a penis. A huge at half-mast erection that’s been intimately acquainted with my butt. How does my ass not hurt after that?

“You’ll probably find her in her hotel room. She had a little too much champagne before we walked her back to her room.”

“Oh.” I don’t remember that. Unsurprising with everything else I’ve forgotten. I back toward the door. “Well, I should go and—”

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