Page 42 of Devious Vows

I swallow hard, closing my eyes as his warm breath puffs across my parted lips, his thumb teasing the edge of my mouth. “Shouldn’t you be with Viva.” It’s not a question, but a statement, and I almost gag around her name. “This is your engagement party.” My eyes open to look into his pools of honey. “You’re getting married.”

And not to me.

“Cuore mio.”It rumbles under my fingertips as I press my hands to his chest, digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his dress shirt. “Fuck Viva. Fuck this party.”

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. On one hand, I’m thrilled he doesn’t want Viva. On the other, I know it’s wrong to encourage him like this, knowing that Viva didn’t ask for this. Knowing that we can’t pretend like this wedding isn’t going to happen. His fingers pinch into the back of my pinned hair, gripping the strands around his hand. His lips are so close I can practically taste them already. I love when he holds me this close, like he can’t get me close enough.

“What were you running from, Bev?”

“You.” His hand in my hair tilts my face back even further, his lips pressing to the corner of mine in a barely-there kiss that’s not enough. “I can’t stand seeing you with her. I hate it.”

I’m jealous of her.

I’m jealous that she gets what should be mine.

“Well, I’m glad you came.” Another soft kiss.

“Why?”

“Because I like seeing you.” His teeth scrape along my chin, making his way over my jaw. “Because…” He pulls back just far enough to smirk at me, a dimple marking his left cheek. “…it’s been far too long since I’ve given you an orgasm.”

I swallow loudly under his gaze, skin growing hot. I shouldn’t encourage him, not here at his own engagement party, especially after what Viva said to me at the dress fitting. But part of me wants to encourage him because of that. How dare she come in and tell me what I can and can’t do. How dare she treat me like that when I was only trying to be kind.

It’s beautifully cruel what we have. A timeline already stamped with an ending we didn’t choose, a love story destined to fail because we don’t have control. I know I only get a set number of stolen moments, brief touches, and hot kisses from here on out, so I’ll brand them to my heart with a hot iron, to never forget what it was like when he wasmine.

“And if we’re caught?” I finally ask, voice barely above a whisper.

The look he gives me sets my heart pounding, his hand tightening in my hair as he bites my bottom lip, talking through his teeth.“Prenderò la mia punizione con un sorriso.”I’ll take my punishment with a smile.Pulling from me, he releases my hair, arm dropping to tug me behind him by my hand. He marches me to the nearest door, opening it to reveal a fairly big broom closet. He pushes me in first, shutting the door behind him and dropping us into complete darkness.

My mouth opens to ask him what his plan is here, but his lips meet mine before the words can get out, hands cradling my cheeks as he sucks my tongue into his mouth. And just like that, he has my gut burning with need for him, the way he holds me like I’m something to be both savored and devoured at the same time making my heart skip a beat. I grip the front of his dress shirt, hands blindly unbuttoning so I can press my palms to his chest, feel the heat of his skin.

His hands drop to my waist, lifting me up so I can wrap my legs around him, skirt billowing up around my thighs and under my tits as he pins my back against the wall. Several mops and other junk fall over in the process but we ignore them. My head drops back against the wall as he grinds his clothed erection into me, my hand gripping the back of his neck as he bites along my throat. One of his inked hands runs along my thigh, my breath catching once his thick fingers find the wet spot soaking my panties.

“These are going to have to go.” He mumbles it against my skin, fingers hooking into the fabric before he rips them off my hips. I push his shirt further open, running my fingers over the hard edges of his abdomen as he drops the fly of his trousers. His lips find mine once more.

A moan rises from my chest when I’m suddenly impaled with his dick, large hands gripping my hips as I lock my ankles behind his back. I’m pressed harder into the wall with each thrust of his hips, head lightly banging against the cool surface with the movement.

Everything about this is fast and hot, the both of us consuming each other in a frenzy as we work to get off in the small amount of time that we have. This time is less drawn out than our others but no less passionate. There’s a thrill behind it, the thought of being in here too long and getting caught making this even more exhilarating.

One of Remy’s hands leaves my hip to push the strap down on my shoulder, pulling it far enough down my arm that my peaked nipple can be sucked between his teeth. His head bobs at my chest, tongue swiping along the pink tip until I’m sinking my nails into his shoulders and grinding my clit against his hard belly.

He switches hands, grabbing my ass in his palm as he tears my other strap down to suck and tease that nipple into an equally hard, aching point. My hair is falling around my face, the twists of my bun unraveling as it rubs against the wall, sweat dotting along my skin as I burn under Remy’s touch.

I know I’m close, the tightening in my gut urging me to shift my hips faster. Remy must feel it, too, because he pushes me farther up the wall, pounding into me with harder, deeper strokes that have me moaning my release only two more pumps in. His mouth finds mine as he comes, his hips jerking against me in off-rhythm strokes as he groans against my lips.

He holds me up as we catch our breaths, his forehead pressed against mine as he runs his palms up and down my thighs. My eyes have adjusted to the dark and when he pulls back, they follow the path of the tattoo on his neck, pausing on his shirt collar. Leaning forward I press a kiss to the side of his neck, licking the salt from his skin as I make my way to the edge of his shirt. Once there, I deliberately press a kiss to the starch white fabric, smearing what’s left of my lipstick on the collar and earning myself an amused hum that vibrates under my lips.

No one will see it under his jacket, but he’ll know.

I’ll know.

And if Viva gets close enough,she’ll know.

Pulling out of me, Remy slides me down his body, my giant pink skirt billowing between us to tickle under my face. He uses his thumb to swipe some lipstick off my chin, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before he starts to adjust his clothes. There’s something comfortable about the silence. Neither one of us feeling the need to break it but both so fucking sure in our decisions leading to this moment. I shove my skirt down and fix the straps on my shoulders. I’m missing a shoe but Remy sees it at his feet, holding it up for me to take and smiling as I stumble while putting it on.

He waits until it’s on to open the door, watching me walk through before following me. I turn to look at him, hands trying to blindly pin my hair back in place. I huff, dropping my arms when I realize it’s a lost cause. My eyes scan Remy, everything is perfectly tucked, not a hair out of place, besides the bright red of my lipstick.

That little mark of defiance makes me smile. “Why am I the only one who looks like a wreck?”

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