WEDDING NIGHT

I want everything, all the touching, all over, but that’s only because Mike's hands, parting my legs and opening me up to him, feel absolutely divine, and it’s short-circuiting my brain all over again. My heart is beating so hard that it could be a jackhammer or some other cement-demolishing tool in there. He bends his head and proves to me, with a single hot kiss over my lace-clad core, that magic is possible, and it does indeed exist. I’m so wet that I know that scrap of lace is totally soaked. When Mike hums low in his throat and licks his lips, it confirms the fact. And it just about gives me a heart attack because what could possibly be sexier than him licking me off his lips? I dare you to come up with something. I just dare you.

When he glances up at me, his eyes are dark. Not haunted. Just dark. He lets me see that, lets me see the most intimate parts of him before he goes back to admiring the most intimate parts of me.

He kisses me over the lace again, and my hips arch up int