Beautiful Beginning(3)

watched as he slipped the buttons free on the fly of his jeans and pushed

them and his boxers down his legs. He reached for the hem of his shirt,

eyebrows raised in silent question—want it on or off this time?—before I

nodded and he tugged it up and over his head. He walked over to our bed,

lay down on his back, and gazed at me.

“Come here,” he said in a quiet growl.

I stepped closer to the bed but remained out of his reach. “When you say

‘the last night you’re f*cking me before we’re married,’ do you mean

that we are only going to have sex during daylight hours this week?”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No. I mean that after

tonight, I want to abstain until you’re my wife.”

An unfamiliar panic rose in my chest, and I wasn’t sure how seriously to

take him. I climbed onto the bed and crawled over, bending to kiss my way

down his chest. “I thought I knew what abstain meant, but in this context

it sounds like you’re telling me on a Tuesday that we’ll be together all

week but not having sex until Saturday.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Strong fingers tangled into my hair and urged

my head lower, to where his cock arched, rigid and slick with his own

excitement.

I stopped the path of my lips just at his hips, which rose from the

mattress in an effort to meet my mouth halfway. “Why on earth would you

want to abstain?”

“Christ, Chlo, stop teasing and put my dick in your mouth.”

Ignoring him, I sat up and moved to straddle his thighs so he couldn’t

easily escape if I decided to inflict some sort of bodily harm. “You’re

insane if you think I’m going without sex for the next four days in the

middle of this wedding nonsense.”

“I’m not insane,” he insisted, trying to pull me higher up his thighs so

his man parts could get better access to my woman parts. “I want it to be

special. And aren’t you the one who wanted a quickie before finishing the

wedding prep?” His fingers dug into my hips and he lifted me, pulling me

down directly over his cock. “So stop struggling.”

But I escaped by digging a finger into the single ticklish spot on his

body, between two of his ribs, and with a spasm he released me, shoving my

hands away.

I bent to kiss him once on his perfect, perfect mouth. “That was before

you suggested that my access to this sincerely ridiculous body of yours

expires at midnight. Saturday is our wedding night. As far as I know, we

only get one of those. How could it not be special, even if you’re hitting

it like a jackhammer all week long?”

“Maybe I want you a little hungry,” he whispered, sitting up beneath me.

His mouth found my neck, my collarbones, my breasts. “I want you so hungry

for it that you can barely think straight.” He grew fevered, grasping at

my sides, sucking my skin. I was all too aware of the hard press of him

against my inner thigh, and wanted nothing more than to feel him inside,

hear his sounds as he grew delirious and lost and urgent.

And then a thought occurred to me. “You mean you want me hungry enough to

not care if you rip the ungodly expensive lingerie I bought for the wedding

night.”

He laughed into my breasts. “That’s a pretty good theory, but no.”

I knew Bennett Ryan well enough to know that I wasn’t going to win this

battle. Not here, not yet. With him, I never won with words; I only ever

won with actions. I kneeled over him, pulling away and smiling at his

short, deep grunt of frustration. But then I turned my body so I could

straddle his face at the same time I took his cock into my mouth. He

reached for me eagerly, hands splayed across my hips and pulling me down,

down, down.

My eyes rolled closed at the first sensation of warmth, of the soft slide

of his tongue followed by the seal and suction of his lips. I quickly grew

lost in the vibration of his moans, his words muffled against me, the tiny

tease of teeth before the suction was back and he grew wilder, and

desperate. Below me, he rocked up, urging, and I wrapped my fist around his

base, gazing at his length, appreciating its shape and smoothness. I loved

the feel of him, the impatient jutting of his hips.

With a wicked smile, I exhaled over the tip of his cock, and whispered,

“Your mouth feels so good.”

He groaned, pushing up meaningfully, but I simply moved closer, panting

across the thick crown, letting him feel the heated pulse of my breath. I

slid one hand lower, cupping his balls and pulling gently as my hand

stroked just the lower half of his cock. On the tip, I gave him

only air.

He could make me come faster with his mouth than with any other part of

him, and already I felt close. The physical sensation chased the pleasure

from my own mischief and combined into an urgent warmth, my favorite kind

of orgasm: Bennett’s mouth on my *, with the joy I got from teasing