Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(77)

“Am I going to get an orgasm out of this?” she whispered, her breath hitching as I slid even higher, hovering there.

“Definitely.”

I leaned down, claiming her mouth, taking her tongue into mine, sucking on it, my teeth scraping at her pouty lips. If she didn’t want to have full-on sex before our wedding, I’d respect that, and if her version of fooling around meant I’d have her lips wrapped around my cock later, then I was all in.

My fingers stroked higher, her legs parting wider, a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh filling the air around us as I hit the right spot. I teased her flesh, gliding over her *, her arousal coating my fingers. She shuddered beneath my hand.

My thumb found her clit, and she arched forward, her tits in my face a temptation I couldn’t resist. My free hand reached up and slipped under the lace, cupping her, my thumb finding her nipple, rubbing the tight point back and forth while my other hand worked her clit.

God, she was gorgeous. So f*cking gorgeous. There was something so sexual about her. She wasn’t shy about what she liked, her gaze hungry, and I knew immediately what she wanted. She wasn’t chasing an orgasm, she was hoarding them, knew that with her no-sex challenge the gauntlet had been thrown down. Maybe I couldn’t make her come with my cock, at least, not with my cock inside her, but I’d make her come every other way. First with my fingers and then while I f*cked her tits.

I leaned forward and captured her other nipple between my teeth, tugging lightly while she squirmed against me, her * clenching around my fingers, drawing me deeper. Jordan’s hands threaded through my hair, pulling me down, offering more of her body up to me.

I f*cked her with my fingers while my mouth teased her nipples, moving from one breast to the next, her skin flushed from my lips, tongue, and teeth. Her hips circled my hand, taking what she wanted, doing everything she could to get herself off until I increased the pressure on her clit, my strokes faster now, and then she arched her back, her hair falling against the pillow, moans escaping her lips, as I watched the unforgettable sight of Jordan coming.

When the last tremor left her body, I rolled to the side, my arm around Jordan, until we lay in bed facing each other, our bodies still joined by my hand between her legs. My fingers slid out, stroking her soft skin, covered in her wetness. Jordan sighed, her gaze on mine, a happy smile tugging at her mouth.

Her gaze went molten as I sucked her off my fingers.

I grinned. “Sweet. I can’t decide which part of your body I like to taste more.”

My hand turned greedy, and I couldn’t resist playing with her rosy nipples, the sight of them tight and wet from my mouth and hands making my dick ache.

Jordan groaned, moving out of my grasp, her voice teasing. “No. More. Orgasms. At least, for the next five minutes.”

I leaned back against the pillows. “Weak sauce.”

Jordan arched an eyebrow at me. “Are you challenging me to see who can take more? Game on, fighter boy.”

She tossed me a naughty grin, her naked body sliding down mine, all hips and boobs, until her mouth disappeared between my legs.

“My turn,” she purred, her throat vibrating against my dick.

Best time not having sex I’d ever had.





TWENTY-NINE




JORDAN

With everything that had happened in the past few weeks, I hadn’t had time or really even thought about getting a wedding dress. Luckily, Sophia had amazing taste in fashion and access to designers, and she hooked a sister up with a dress that had needed minimal altering and stole my heart the first time I saw it.

I adjusted my boobs, pulling the bodice up with a sigh. Strapless was iffy with double Ds. On the one hand, I knew Noah would appreciate the show; on the other, I’d be waging a losing fight with gravity for most of the night. Whatever. It would be worth it to see Noah’s expression.

The dress was hands-down the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. It was cut in a mermaid style, the fabric a gorgeous lace that looked like it had been hand-sewn by monks who’d taken a vow of silence or something like that. The bodice was a sweetheart neckline. The hem had a hint of tulle under the lace that gave the illusion that I walked on a cloud.

It hugged my curves, giving me killer cleavage, a hidden corset sucking in the parts that needed to be sucked in, highlighting my hips and ass.

I’d have been lying if I didn’t admit that through various times in my life I’d wished I were skinnier or had a little less boobs, a little less ass. And then somewhere along the way, I’d stopped caring. This was me, and I liked it, and Noah liked it, which was an added bonus considering I doubted I had the patience to put up with a guy who was going to give me shit about my body.

I loved that Noah loved me exactly the way I was. I realized now how many of my dating years had been spent trying to be someone I wasn’t, never understanding that if I had hooked a guy, it wouldn’t have meant anything because he wouldn’t have known me. There was no substitute for finding the guy who loved you for you.

I picked up the pink bouquet, inhaling the scent of roses, peonies, and a few other flowers I didn’t recognize. Five minutes to show time.

I’d done the bridesmaid thing enough times to see bridal nerves in action—my friends crying because the flowers in the church were screwed up or freaking out over a glitch with the seating chart. I hadn’t thought a lot about what kind of bride I’d be on my wedding day, but then again, even if I had, the reality of today was so different—so unexpected—that I doubted I could have even come close.