Page 12 of My Big, Fat, Fake Billionaire Wedding

Oh no.

“I, um, should probably shower. You know. For down there,” I mumble, my face burning.

“Why?” He steps back and looks confused and more than a little concerned.

“It’s just... my last boyfriend. He always said I smelled bad. He even told me once that—” I swallow, unable to continue. How embarrassing.

“Told you what,” he growls, as if he’d beat the living crap out of this ex of mine if he were in the room right now.

“Told me I needed to put a tic-tac up my, you know...” The words rush out, fueled by mortification and years of bottled-up insecurity.

He stills, his expression darkening. “He said that?”

“Yeah. So. Shower. Definitely shower.” I try to slide off the bed, but he firmly restrains me.

“Don’t move,” he hisses. “Don’t youdaremove.”

Tears come to my eyes. “But you don’t understand...”

He leans down and nuzzles my neck. “I want to taste you. Exactly as you are.”

And then he does. He starts with my neck, kissing and licking and...

Oh god. He’s good. Really good. My head falls back, and I moan, my self-doubt, my tears, forgotten.

He works his way down, kissing my chest, my stomach lower. My hands grip the sheets, my body arching, anticipating.

He pauses, his breath hot on my most sensitive skin. “You okay?” he asks, his voice rough.

I nod, unableto speak.

He pushes my legs apart gently, and I feel another moment of insecurity, of absolute exposure. If he wants me to leave now, thinks I smell too bad for him, I’ll get it. And I’ll go. I’ll be mortified, but I’ll go.

But then he’s there. His tongue flicking against my clit, and I gasp. He’s not stopping. Far from it. He’s licking me like I’m the greatest thing he’s ever tasted in his life. It’s intense. Overwhelming. And empowering all the same.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice muffled. “So sweet. Like honey and... fuck, I can’t even describe it. You’re perfect. So perfect.”

I close my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me. His tongue, his lips, his teeth. He’s driving me insane. My hips start to move instinctively, seeking more. My pussy is throbbing.

He knows exactly what to do. He finds the perfect rhythm, the perfect pressure. My breath comes in ragged gasps. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.

I’m close. So close. The world is narrowing, focusing down to this one point, this one sensation.

“Yes... yes...”

His fingers tracing circles. Slow, then faster. Each touch a spark. My pussy feels so tight.

Yes.

My breath...

Yes.

He whispers something I can’t understand...yes.

My hips...yes.

More...yes.

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