“Are you afraid?”
She squeezes me, and her eyes light up as she nods.
“Okay,” I tell her, “we got the dancing started. We’ve done our party duty.”
She looks up into my eyes. “Can we go to the suite now?”
The lights are low in the suite. She’s beautiful in the wedding dress. Ripe and lovely, but with a glow of pure innocence.
She’s in front of the mirrored closet doors. I can see her face in front of me and her back, thrillingly bared by the deep scoop of the dress, in the mirror. I see the lights of Las Vegas through the window, reflected behind my own shape.
She looks up at me. Questioning. Anxious. I can tell that she’s shy but fighting it, acting like she needs to be strong. Or she wants me to see her that way.
I tell her, “You don’t need to act with me. I know this must be nerve-wracking for you. The new family. Everything.”
She shrugs. “You didn’t know what you were getting either. Do you like what you’ve seen so far?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “You’re beautiful. I saw a photo, but it didn’t begin to do you justice. How about you? Do you like what you see?”
“God, yes.” Her eyes flash. “I could eat the face off you.” Her hands twitch and tremble. She swishes the skirt of her dress.
My voice thickens as I move closer. “I had a hunch you wanted to wait until we had some privacy for a proper kiss.”
She smiles. “At least until there were no distractions.”
“Since I laid eyes on you, nothing has distracted my attention for an instant.”
She sighs. “Well, if you didn’t kiss the Blarney Stone, you must have a chunk of it in your pocket.” She looks down at the front of my pants. “Is that it there? Looks like you might have gotten away with the whole rock.”
“Is this all bravado or are you always this much fun?”
“I’m more laughs than a box of monkeys, me. But no. I’m scared out of my fucking skin.”
“Of the family? The big occasion?”
“Family? Us McCarthys are as scary a family as you’ll find. No, of you. And of that fucking telephone pole you’ve totally failed to conceal.” She steps closer. “I haven’t ever done any of this before. I’m so afraid that I’ll disappoint you.”
I stroke her cheek. Our eyes flicker over each other’s faces. I hold her neck, cupping her head in my hand. Her lips part and she sighs as our heads tilt.
My instinct is to be gentle with her, but I’m inflamed by the anxious anticipation in her eyes and the wet glisten of her lips. It makes me want to take her hard. To treat her rough. Whatever I do, I’m determined to savor the experience.
Her scent drives me mad. I hold her waist. Our lips join in a kiss. Our bodies connect and wrap together as I fold her in my arms. Like the world has washed from a sepia tone to bright neon and glitter, I feel a glow of light from the inside of both of us.
We kiss.
Soft.
Deep.
Long.
Then fast. Hungry and wild. Hard.
Raw.
I press my leg between hers. Her pelvis rocks on my thigh.
We gasp and pant, holding onto each other. My cock grinds against her.
She says, “Tell me what to do.”
“Lift up your dress. Turn around. Show me your ass.”
I stand back.
“Like this?” Slowly, hesitantly, she turns as I told her. As she pulls up the hem of her dress, her milky thighs emerge. Thick. Soft. Trembling.
Blue lacy panties frame her ass cheeks. They look so innocent, it makes me want to rip them. Tear them. Yank them with my teeth.
She looks over her shoulder at me. “Set your feet apart,” I say. As she does, my eyes are fixed on the soft flesh inside her thighs. “More.”
Each time she responds, I’m pumped harder. Longer and fatter. I ache so much for her, I could bend over double.
“Bend forward. Lean against the wall.”
The crotch of her panties is dark. Soaked.
Chapter Four
Kiera
Nervous, I ask him, “Do you like my legs? My ass?”
He springs forward. In the mirror, I see his burning eyes. His huge, eager hands freely roam over my body. My body that is now his. I never let anyone do the things he’s doing with me. But he takes me as a right. This big, handsome stranger.
Behind him is the draped and canopied bed. I can’t help thinking of it as a sacrificial altar, where I’m going to be taken. Opened up. Split wide and speared.
He’s huge, leaning over my back. He slaps my ass. His palm lands flat with a crack. The ass cheek stings, hot. His fingers burn against me. Then he slaps me again.
He covers my back and he groans into my ear, “I like your ass even more now.” With a hungry snarl he adds, “I like it with my mark on it.”