Page 230 of Snap Shot

“You're the best,” I whisper.

“I know.” His smile-stretched mouth grazes my cheek as we pose for a photo. “Goddamn, baby. Those red lips. You gonna paint my cock with them after this?”

“That depends,” I say into his ear, genuine joy unable to leave my face. “You gonna paint my throat?”

Nose pressing into my dimple, his shoulders shake with silent laughter. “Will you cut it out? I'm already so fucking hard.”

My family promised a quick and tear-free vidaai. They crack up when Landon lifts me into the 911, grumbling about why my skirt is so big. Sheena, Gabe, Bea, and my sisters block the front of the car, their hands on the hood. Seth revs the engine from the driver's side. Delaney sweetly bribes them with a few hundred dollars, but they refuse.

“Taking my shoes wasn't enough, eh?” Landon tosses a stack of hundreds at them. Gabe catches it in one hand. “Take it all. All I want is my wife.”

We’re late, and the ride around the estate is short before we have to get changed for the reception. Landon hasn't let go of my hand since my parents placed it in his. He won't stop kissing me either. The stroking thumb against my throat and sweeps of his tongue at the seam of my lips is too high of a high, the tender cradling of my head becoming more urgent as we get to the suite. My husband seems to be in no rush except for one thing.

He puts up both arms and prevents the hair and makeup team from reaching me. “Nope. Everyone out! I need two hours with my wife. Alone.”

“We don't have two hours!” I protest. “Do you know how many bobby pins are holdingthis” —my pointed finger circles my head— “together right now?”

The vendors skedaddle, frowning at Landon's menacing expression. It disappears as they do.

He plops a kiss onto my forehead while unbuttoning his sherwani. “One hour. And don't worry. I'll fuck you out of every last pin.” A single arm wraps around me as he walks us back to the long conference table. “Right out of these clothes, too.” His rough grip arcs around my foot. “Everything except these anklets and” —he slips a finger underneath the gold chain circling my waist— “whatever this is.”

Landon bunches multiple layers of the lehenga in his large hands. “Don't you dare rip it,” I warn.

He whines, face dropping into the crook of my neck. “But baby—”

“I'm serious, Radek. This is Sabyasachi. You're not allowed to ruin it.”

His grasp on the skirt is strong enough to pick me up with a grunt and throw my ass onto one edge of the table. “Can I tear at what's underneath?”

I reward him with a hungry kiss while peeling away his sweaty white undershirt.

“Absolutely.”

—————

Naked except for my kandoro and payal, I lean against the en suite's doorway, damp, loose curls sticking to the arms crossing my chest.

Landon steps out of the spacious marble shower and palms a folded towel, every firm, beautiful muscle on his torso rippling as he dries himself. He catches me staring and smirks over his shoulder. “What? Is there something stuck to my ass?”

“No.”

“Then what are you looking at?”

“The love of my life. I waited a long, long time for him.”

His playful expression wanes, every serious step chipping away at the remaining distance between us. A harsh hand clasps my neck and pulls me into a sweltering, open-mouthed kiss, sending staticky sparks to my fingertips and toes.

“Indi,” he sighs. “You need to get in that bednow.”

I rub a denial into his chest, the beat beneath it drumming into my palms. “We have a reception to get to. People will be waiting.”

“Let 'em wait. What are they gonna do, have the reception without us?”

My feet backpedal as Landon discards the towel and stalks after me, cock hardening in his fist. Slick heat pools between my legs. Lust and mischief flicker in his eyes while approaching the edge of the mattress. I splay myself open for him. “Gonna fuck my wife so sore, she won't be able to walk without an ache in her pussy as a reminder of our wedding day.”

An hour later, we're in a world of trouble.

“I can't believe you,” I scream under my breath as we loiter in the lobby.

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