Ready to Wed (Ready #1.5)(21)

“What? No! Do you think I’d let that horn dog anywhere near here? He’s paying off the staff.”

“Oh,” I said, smiling. “Well, how exactly are you going to get me out of this dress without me looking like a train wreck when we go back in?”

He flashed me a wolfish grin. “Who said I was going to take off the dress? I am definitely keeping the dress on. For now.”

He stood between my legs and pulled me close, leaning down to kiss my lips. He was gentle at first, but became more urgent and heated. He fisted my hair and slanted my head so he could deepen the kiss. Moving down my neck, he kissed my collarbone and shoulder.

“Lie back,” he commanded.

I did as I was told, and leaned back until my back hit the table top. His hands flitted down my curves, over my hips until he knelt and they found the hem of my dress. He lifted it and examined my champagne high heels.

“Nice.” His eyes traveled to my legs. “Are these the stockings I bought for you?” he asked, his eyes quickly traveling up to meet mine in question.

“Yes,” I answered.

He wrapped his fingers around my ankles and slowly started sliding his hands up until the found my hip and the lace top of the stockings where the blue garter was.

Logan stood, pushing my skirt up as he did.

“Christ. That’s got to be the best money I’ve ever spent.”

“And you haven’t even seen all of it yet,” I reminded him.

“Don’t tempt me Clare. We need to keep you presentable for the family,” he grinned.

Running his hands up my thighs, he paused. “I was just going to make you come because we don’t have a lot of time. But seeing you like this, all spread out before me like a f**king platter? Now all I want to do is bury myself in you.”

I pushed up to my elbows and gave him a challenging look.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

He growled and suddenly I was in the air. My legs wrapped around his waist seconds before he pushed us against the wall opposite of where we’d come in.

My skirt was gathered around my hips, and I heard the telltale sound of Logan’s zipper and belt. All my insides went tight in anticipation as his hand slid up my thigh to push aside my lacy blue thong.

“We’re going to consummate our marriage in an empty ballroom, standing against a wall, with our family down the hall. You okay with that?”

I could feel him hard and ready against me, waiting for my answer.

“Yes, Logan. God, yes,” I managed to say as he plunged into my slick core.

I muffled my cries and moans against his shoulder as he pumped in and out, filling me completely with every stroke.

“I love you. So f**king much,” he said roughly, slamming into my body harder. I could feel the orgasm building in my belly, swirly and twirling in my body like a tornado. His eyes focused on mine and he must have seen it in my eyes, because he took my mouth seconds before I cried out my orgasm, muting the sounds with our kiss.

One hand snaked around my body and found my bare ass. As he braced us against the wall with the other, he pulled me closer. His strokes were fast and uncontrolled, and within seconds his eyes glazed over and he gave a guttural moan as he came.

Still panting and in our post-coital haze, both of us jumped when there was a knock on the door.

“Logan!” Colin whispered.

“What the f**k do you want, man?” He suddenly looked down to make sure I was covered in case Colin was dumb enough to walk in. I really hoped he wasn’t.

“They’re starting to notice you guys are gone. Might want to hurry things along,” he laughed.

“All right, thanks.”

We turned to each other and couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Guess we better go before we get busted with our pants down!” Logan said.

We laughed and redressed each other, and headed back to our reception, hoping to hell that we didn’t look like we’d just been shagging down the hall.

~Logan~

Dinner passed in a blur. I think we had chicken, or pork?

There were so many people talking to us, I honestly didn’t have a chance to eat anyway, so it could have been lasagna for all I know.

All I could think about, in between answering questions about our “honeymoon” and our decision to sell Clare’s house and move into mine, was the time we’d spent in that ballroom.

Visions of Clare lying on that table flashed before my eyes. Her hair fanned out in every direction like a whimsical goddess. The touch of her skin as I held her and slid inside her for the first time as husband and wife. The look in her eyes as she came.

Then it hit me. I’d taken my wife for the first time in a dark ballroom, fully clothed, backed up against a wall. I was an animal. I looked over in her direction and took her hand. She caught my eye and smiled, a faint blush spreading across her face.

I should have waited. Taken her slowly and lovingly. Stripped her down and spent hours kissing every inch of her skin. Instead, I’d taken her fast and hard, slamming her and that stunning wedding gown into a wall.

I suddenly had this overwhelming desire to show her exactly how much I treasured, loved and adored her. Maybe it was the whole cancer thing or just the high of getting married, but I decided to be spontaneous.

Rising from my seat, I gently kissed her temple. “I’m going to run up to the room and grab something. I’ll be right back.”