Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)(56)

Another Elvis runs out with a camera. I stand behind Jack and smile, and the flash clicks.

“Give her a kiss,” Photographer Elvis shouts.

Jack obliges, and he snaps another picture.

Everything else is a blur. Marilyn gives me my clothes back in a bag, and we sign a bunch of forms, show our IDs, and some of the witnesses from the pews sign. A copy goes in Jack’s back pocket and a copy goes to the state.

That’s it, we’re married. I’m Jack’s wife.

An Elvis follows us out and sticks a JUST MARRIED sign on the Corvette’s back window. Jack holds my hand and closes my door for me. The ring feels heavy in my hand. I flex my fingers to try and get used to the feeling of it.

“Mrs. Marshall,” he says, and kisses me.

“I guess we won’t have much of a honeymoon.”

“The hell we won’t.”

The car rumbles to life and I cry out as he pulls out of the parking lot to the screech of tires, at least until we stop at the first red light. Jack drives and seemingly picks an off-strip motel at random. I wait in the car while he gets us a room.

He moves the car to the door to our room. When I step out he slips his arm under me and lifts me bodily from the ground. I throw my arms around his neck and use my feet to push the door open.

Once we’re inside, he locks the door. I stand by the bed. The place is clean, if a little dated, the room small, and the bed very big. My wedding dress feels heavy, like it’s trying to fall off.

Jack steps up to me and kisses my forehead lightly, his lips warm on my skin.

“I know you must be tired. We don’t have to do anything right now if you don’t want, or even tonight.”

“Take my dress off.”

He lifts the veil off my head and sets it aside. He takes a step forward, so his chest brushes mine, and starts undoing the laces holding the dress to my body. The pressure relieves around my chest first, then my stomach. Jack gives the dress a sharp tug and it slides down a bit, then another, and it pools around my trembling legs.

I look over at myself in the mirror in my stockings and thong and lacy bra. Jack never takes his eyes off me. He puts his hands on my back and rubs his cheek against mine, and then he looks over at the mirror and watches his hands glide down my back and spread over my ass cheeks, then squeeze.

I let out a little chirp.

“You look good in a thong.”

He snaps the elastic against my skin and I yelp and jerk against him. I lean on his chest and slip my arms under his, resting my hands on his back. He squeezes my ass harder, and my legs start to shake even more.

I can barely say it, and even then only whisper it in his ear.

“You could slap my ass. If you wanted.”

I close my eye and feel his hand leave my skin, a sudden rush of air and then crack. It stings and sends a jolt through my body. He rubs the spot where his hand hit me then pulls back and does it again. I gasp and hold him tighter. I can feel his cock harden through his pants.

He squeezes the other cheek then slaps it, too. Each time is a little harder, like he’s testing me. The sound is so loud, it echoes off the ceiling.

He keeps his hands on my back as my knees buckle. I hold him close, slide down his body to my knees, and undo his belt buckle. Jack tenses all over in excitement, his hands resting on my shoulders.

I lift his hard cock and his balls out of his clothes and cup him in my hands. I look up at him and the expression on his face makes me melt. He touches my cheek with his knuckle as I hold his shaft in my hand and press the shaft to my lips. I can’t open my mouth wide enough to take him all the way, but I can suck and kiss the tip, and wet him with my mouth.

I lift his cock, hold it against his belly, and run my tongue and lips up the shaft.

“Sit down, please,” I ask him.

He shuffles to the bed and I pull his pants down to his knees as he sits, then push them down around his ankles. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, I take off his shoes and socks and pull his pants away, then settle between his legs.

I hold his cock down against his stomach and kiss his balls, running my tongue over them as his dick hardens even more under my hand. I stroke my hand up and down his shaft lightly, not gripping, just running my palm and fingers along the underside. Every time I slide my fingers around the head of his cock, he shudders.

Moving a little, I lick the root of his cock, where it meets his balls, and let go of it. It stands straight up, pulsing, so hard. Holding it, I lick the head, and his legs jerk, and he grips the covers. A little moan escapes his lips, and I pull back and grin. There’s a little pearl of pre-cum right on the tip of his cock. I dip in and take it off with my tongue then lick his shaft up and down vigorously until it’s slick in my hand, and start to stroke.

“Ellie,” Jack groans, rising up as his stomach contracts. He sits up and curls around me, stroking my head as I hold the tip of his cock in my mouth and furiously jerk him, my hand slippery with my own spit.

He shudders, hard, and his cock throbs in my hand, jumping and jerking with a life of its own. A hot rush explodes in my mouth and I gulp it down as it fast as I can, holding the head tightly in my lips. Jack almost falls on me, groaning and grunting, his body flexing. I hold the tip in my mouth, lick the last of it up, and swallow again.

Jack nudges a little cum off my chin with his thumb. I quickly take it in my mouth and suck it clean.

He looks at me for a second and then grabs me under my arms and hauls me up onto the bed. My eye flies open wide as he kisses me voraciously, viciously, throwing his weight on top of me. I grab his cock and stroke it, hoping to make him hard again so he can thrust through the slit in my panties and take me now, f*ck me hard, and come deep inside me.