My Big Fat Fake Wedding(56)

And we do, foam bullets flying as we talk smack to each other, running and diving to hide from incoming blasts, and taunting as shots go wide and miss completely.

It’s ridiculous, it’s hilarious, it’s . . . fun.

From somewhere in the foyer, I hear her call out. “Where’d you get this idea, Andrews?”

Oh, we’re going for last names now, are we? “Saw it on YouTube and it looked good, so here we are, Russo. With you about to lose to me all over again! Just like old times!”

That’s the truth. It was just a silly video I saw on YouTube after watching a TED Talk, but it had sparked an idea in me. That I needed this, that Violet needed this, that we needed this. A silliness reminiscent of our younger days, but without the hurtfulness of the way we used to interact.

“All right, all right. I’m out of bullets and don’t have any close by to scavenge. I surrender. You win,” she says, but now it sounds like she’s back in the living room.

Victorious, I come out of my hiding spot, cockily swaggering toward her. “Guess that makes me the champ—” I start to say, but as I get close, a bullet hits me squarely between the eyes.

“Bullseye! Can’t believe you fell for that!” Violet taunts.

I see red. Not the angry kind, but the flash of her cotton nightgown, and I give chase. She screams, scrambling to run from me, laughing the whole time. I think I even hear one of her cute snorts.

I tackle her, turning so I land on my back to take the brunt of it but quickly rolling her over and pinning her. I toss her now-truly-empty gun away and trap her hands above her head. She’s breathing heavy, pink with giddiness at getting one over on me, and squirming beneath me.

She’s never looked more beautiful than she does in this moment. Silly, girly, daring me at every opportunity, challenging me in every way.

Fuck. I want Violet Russo.

And in her eyes, I can see it. She wants me too.

I kiss her, passionate fire igniting and burning up any thoughts I might have of whether this is a good idea or not. In this moment, I don’t care. I just want. I just need.

Her mouth is hot, greedy, and she moans against me, her tongue finding mine and her legs parting as I press down between them, feeling the heat from her pussy. Again and again, I kiss her, delving deeper into her mouth, tasting the candy sweetness she usually hides from me with her sour coating of barbs.

“Ross . . .” she moans breathlessly. Her hands tear at my shirt, yanking it over my head as I move her to the sofa and pull her nightgown off.

“Spread your legs for me,” I growl, hitting my knees and sliding down her body to lick her belly button.

Violet eagerly obeys, biting her lip as I kiss from her left knee to the soft skin of her inner thigh before repeating the process on the other side. “So good. More.”

I grin at the order, and though she pushes at my head, guiding me where she wants me, I hover my mouth just over her pussy lips, close enough that I know she can feel my breath but not get the release that she wants. “Say please.”

Violet trembles, knowing what I’m demanding. Strong woman, always resisting any restraints, always refusing any rules but her own, especially the ones we agreed to in our contract. This is my opportunity to get back at her, but it’s not out of spite, not to be a cocky winner this time. It’s for her own good. By giving in to me, I’ll reward her. Greatly and enthusiastically. She just has to say please.

She swallows and bites her lip. “Please.”

I know what it cost her to give me that. I’m going to show her that she can let go of her tight grip on control sometimes and can trust others, namely me, to do what’s right and even what’s best for her.

I slide my tongue deep inside her while keeping my eyes fastened on her. Deep inside me, a little voice says I need to claim her, to learn every nuance of her body and what makes her scream in pleasure, so I study her carefully.

With every lick, every nibble on her skin, every broad stroke of my tongue over her lips and to the wonderful bump of her clit, I memorize her every movement, every expression and reaction.

Violet wraps her legs around my head as I pleasure her, her heels digging into my back as I bring her to the edge before backing off, drawing my tongue up and down her lips, easing them open as she whimpers and squirms. “Ross, please. I . . . I need . . .”

The please came easier that time, but giving Violet exactly what she needs is my focus now.

“Need what?” I tease, licking again and causing her to gasp. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” she cries softly as I suck on one of her pussy lips. “I need to come.”

“Tell me,” I command, reaching down and freeing my cock.

“Please, Ross, make me come,” Violet whimpers, shuddering as I flick her clit once.

She reads my mind and swings her legs off my shoulders, getting onto her knees on the sofa. She leans forward, her hands going to the couch back, and presents her pussy to me. “Please?”

Oh, my naughty little minx. Begging, saying please like I demanded . . . but at the same time, she is totally in control, knowing she already has me addicted to her sweet pussy. And now that curvy peach-shaped ass wiggles in my face, her wetness gleaming in the light.

I jump to my feet, shoving my shorts the rest of the way down and off before grabbing a handful of Violet’s hair and pulling her close to me. “This has been so long coming, Violet. I’m gonna fill you with my cock, split you in half so all you can feel is me at your core. I want you to shatter into a thousand pieces knowing it’s me who did that to you. Ready?”