Page 41 of An Unhinged Wedding

“Need you again. Now,” he growls.

Taking my hand, he pulls me until I’m standing on my feet beside the bed.

“Hold onto the bed post.”

I turn around, my ass facing him, and hold onto the tall bedpost.

Slamming into me, he reaches around and grabs both of my nipples between his thumb and forefingers and pinches hard. I cry out from the pleasure mixed with pain. He slides out and rails right back into me. My entire body is tingling with need. He slides his hand down my abdomen straight to my clit, and with his other hand pinches both my nipple and clit, simultaneously sending me screaming straight into another orgasm. It’s strong and powerful, crashing into me in waves, drowning me in euphoria. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. He keeps fucking me through my climax. With a loud grunt, he finds his own.

Pulling out, he turns me toward him, “As much as I want to keep that cum inside you, I need to take care of you more. Wait here while I start a bath.”

I nod, “Yes sir,” and he groans, “Fuck. You’re such a good wife, Kitten.”

He turns and heads to the bathroom to start the bath. I take a seat on the edge of the bed, a smile on my face. I’m so deliciously sore. The kind where you know you’ll feel it the next day. When I walk down the aisle tomorrow, I’ll remember everything he did to me tonight.

After the shit I’ve been through, I never expected to enjoy sex with a man. I got off, on my own, but I figured that would be it. How could I ever truly surrender my body to another? But I was wrong. Trevor gives me everything I need, and I know if I ever told him to stop, he would. I trust my husband completely. Not just with my body but my mind, my heart, and my soul. He would never do anything to hurt me. And if someone else does, he’d destroy them. There is zero doubt. Trevor would not only give anything to make sure I’m safe but also to keep me happy.

When I hear the water turn off, I rise off the bed and walk into the bathroom. My husband has his back to me, and he looks delicious. He’s muscular, carved like the wet dream he is. And that ass. I could bite it. Trevor has amazing situational awareness, so I’m not surprised when he speaks.

“What are you doing, wife?”

“Admiring my sexy as fuck, husband.”

He turns his head and gazes at my naked body, “My cum dripping down your thighs is making me hard, Kitten.”

Trevor nods toward the bath, so I step in, and he gets behind me. We both lower into the water, and he pulls me into his arms. Brushing the hair off my neck, he kisses me softly.

Leaning back against his chest, I feel an immense peace. In therapy, they told me in times of stress, to think of my happy place. That place is in Trevor’s arms. No matter how hard things get, he’s my safe spot. The one constant that I know I can always depend on.

“Whatever this bath oil is, it smells amazing.”

He presses his nose to my neck and inhales, “I prefer your scent. Fucking intoxicating.”

Sliding his hand down the front of my body, he cups my pussy. Just as he rubs my clit, causing me to moan, the doorbell rings.

“What the?”

Trevor groans, “It’s probably your brother, the cock blocker.”

I giggle, “Yeah but what kind of hotel room has a doorbell?”

His chuckle vibrates through my body, “This one. Get dressed, Wife.”

He climbs out of the tub and disappears into the bedroom with a towel in his hand. I sigh at the interruption. How is it that no matter how many times we have sex, I always want more? I get out of the water, grab a towel, and dry myself off. When I go into the bedroom, Trevor is already gone. I get dressed into one of Trevor’s black t-shirts and yoga pants. I could, of course, wear my own shirt, but I like having his scent on my skin.

I walk into the living room area and sit beside Trevor across from my brother, who sits in a chair. My brother is huge. So, while the chair is oversized, he still looks like he’s sitting on a kid's chair. I try to hide my laugh, but I fail miserably and break into a fit of giggles.

He raises an eyebrow, “What’s so funny?”

His question only makes me laugh harder until the tears run down my face.

“Sorry. You look like Levi sitting in that chair that’s meant for babies.”

My nephew Levi has this little chair that’s meant for six-month-olds. He insists on sitting in it even though it’s far too small for him now.

Max scowls at me, “If you’re done now, Mia, we have things to discuss.”

I swallow another laugh, “I’m sorry, of course.”

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