Page 10 of The Wedding Wrecker

"James, please," I whimpered, threading my fingers through his hair.

He looked up at me, eyes dark with need. "Please what?"

"I need you. Now."

He nodded, reaching for his back pocket. I watched impatiently as he dealt with the condom, then pulled him back to me.

"Now, she says…" His thumb traced maddening circles on my inner thigh. "You sure you don't want me to take my time?"

I tugged his hair in response, drawing a low chuckle from him. "Impatient," he murmured against my skin.

Then his mouth was between my legs, and all coherent thought vanished. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out as he worked me with his tongue, bringing me right to the edge before pulling back.

"James," I whined, earning another dark chuckle.

"Something you want?"

"You," I said. "Inside me. Now."

When he finally pushed into me, we both moaned at the sensation. He felt incredible—perfect in a way that made me wonder if I'd been ruined for anyone else.

How the hell was I supposed to enjoy normal sex after… this? Normal sex with mortal men—men who didn’t look like freaking gods who just descended from Mount Olympus to rail me until I forgot how to breathe?

I decided not to care. Right now, I just wanted to be here in this moment. I wanted to savor it.

"Okay?" he asked, showing remarkable restraint despite the tension in his muscles.

I wrapped my legs around his waist in answer, pulling him deeper. His control snapped. He set a rhythm that had me seeing stars, each thrust hitting exactly the right spot.

"Fuck, Emma," he groaned, one hand gripping my hip while the other supported my back. "You feel amazing."

I'd never felt anything like this—this raw connection, this perfect sync of bodies and breath and need. It was overwhelming. Intoxicating.

His movements became more urgent, and I knew he was close. His hand slipped between us, finding that perfect spot, and I fell apart in his arms, crying out his name.

He followed right after, burying his face in my neck as he came. For a long moment, we just held each other, breathing hard, neither wanting to break the spell.

Eventually, reality crept back in. The cool air on my heated skin. The distant sound of music from above. The fact that I had just had mind-blowing sex on an antique table in a castle wine cellar.

James pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder before stepping back to gather our clothes. I tried not to mourn the loss of his warmth as I pulled my dress back on.

"So," I said, still feeling pleasantly buzzed from what we'd just done. "I assume I don’t need to ask you not to tell any guests you technically just fucked the wedding planner while she was on duty?"

His movements froze. "You're the wedding planner?"

"Yeah. I thought you figured it out when the server asked for my help earlier," I smoothed down my hair, not noticing his change in demeanor. "But, yes. And this wedding is huge for me. If it goes well tomorrow, it could really launch my career. I mean, planning a destination wedding at an Irish castle? Talk about a dream gig. I was lucky to land these clients, so I have to make sure nothing goes wrong."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. When I looked up, James' face had gone carefully blank.

"James?" I stepped toward him, but he took a subtle step back. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." His voice was tight. "I just... I should go."

"Oh." I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "Well, maybe we could grab coffee tomorrow? Or if you're headed back to the States soon?—"

"Emma." He ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at me. "This was... but we can't..."

"Can't what?"

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