Page 118 of My Broken Bodyguard 3: Catch & Bianca

He reached out his hand, lightly brushing against my nipple, sending a shiver down my spine.

A smile tipped up at the corners of his lips. Good thing he couldn’t see me. My wet kinky hair halted at my nape. Not in a cute way. It wasn’t tamed. I loved my natural hair styled in a ponytail or with the right curly products. All though I’ve rocked it straight lately.

“I advise you to hold onto something,” he warned.

“The wall or the bench,” I suggested.

“Bombshell, I need you now. I’ll spread those legs wide across the floor in two seconds.” He attempted to kneel before me.

I pulled him with me toward the wall.

My heart slammed against my ribcage. Why was I so nervous? “I’m ready, Callum,” I muttered.

He dropped to his knees. “I just need my fix before our wedding ceremony,” he growled against my slick pussy.

A smile hit my lips then a gasp fell from my mouth. He craved me. That was the sexiest thing I’d ever encountered.

I watched with fascination as he hooked my thigh over his shoulder and inhaled my arousal.

“Callum,” I purred.

The water cascaded down his muscled frame. The blindfold was securely in place.

“Don’t scream when you come. But I want to hear my name leave those pretty lips.”

He slid his tongue along my wet folds. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it was on fire.

“Callum, yes, yes, yes. I needed this.”

It wasn’t like we weren’t going to have sex later, but this moment was also special. A prewedding orgasm.

My fingers threaded his wet hair as my other hand massaged my left nipple. “Fuck, baby, how do you do this to me?”

His blond brow arched as his teeth clamped down on my clit. “Do what?”

“Oh God,” I moaned from the pleasure and the pain.

This man was so cocky. Catch and cocky fit together like a hand in glove.

“Drive me crazy. Make me feel so incredibly special,” I breathed.

Catch released my clit and buried his face against my stomach. “You are the only woman who can make me fucking bat shit crazy. I knew I got under your skin. And I fucking love it.” He dragged his soft lips across my belly.

“I can’t promise I won’t lose my sanity without you at my side when I return to Jersey.”

Tears threatened to burst forth. Deep down I knew I should at least return home with him after our honeymoon. But the shit storm brewing in Chicago wouldn’t let me be with Catch.

His lips moved over my smooth mound.

“Don’t shave your pussy again. I love the feel of the tiny hairs on my face.”

“Ok, I won’t,” I whispered.

“On the floor now,” he bit out.

My fiancé was on the edge. All because I wouldn’t return home with him. It didn’t stop his hunger for me. It escalated it to the next level.

“I love you, Bianca.” Pain was evident on his dripping wet face.

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