Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (10 page)

He nods, his lips curling into a smile. "Yeah, we are. Never fucked a wife before."

"You sure? You’ve fucked a lot of women."

He laughs, then kisses me. "Never fucked
my
wife before." He looks me up and down. "Fuck, you look amazing in that dress."

"Really?"

He nods. "Like a princess."

"That makes you my prince."

"Princess, nobody would mistake me for a prince."

I shake my head. "You are my prince, Miles. You saved me."

He presses his forehead to mine. "I know. You saved me too."

Again, Miles tugs at my dress. Again, he fails. He reaches around for the corset back, breaking the kiss to watch his work in the mirror.

His lips find my neck. He plants kisses over my skin, settling on the spot where my ear meets the back of my head. "These mirrors are giving me ideas."

Me too. And I love the ideas. I open my mouth to express my enthusiasm, but the only thing I can articulate is a groan.

It gets the point across.

By the time the elevator arrives at our floor, Miles has my corset half-unlaced. It's not enough for the dress to slip. It's only enough that it makes it possible to breathe.

He leads me to the suite in the corner, unlocks the door, and kicks it open. Just like on the afternoon of our engagement, he leans down, scoops me into his arms, and carries me across the threshold.

I cling to his chest until he sets me down. The room is amazing. It's the size of the first floor of his mansion. There's a bedroom, a living area and a full-blown kitchen. Fuck. It might be bigger than our new apartment.

We have a new apartment.

We really have a life together now.

We're married.

Before I can think, his lips find mine.

I kiss him back. My tongue slides into his mouth. My hands curl into his hair. My back arches. I try to press my hips to his, but with the layers of tulle, I can't feel a thing.

"Turn around," he mumbles into my neck.

I do.

Miles runs his fingertips off my shoulders. Slowly, he pulls out the pins holding up my hair. Bit by bit, the wavy strands fall over my back and shoulders. I sigh with relief. That was a tight updo.

He brushes my hair out of the way. His hand settles on the back of my dress. He undoes the lace-up back as he plants kisses on my neck. It must take five minutes before the dress is loose enough he can slide it to my hips.

I step out of it and turn around to face him.

My husband.

He's mine forever.

As usual, he's patient and I'm panting. But I can't say I mind.

Fuck patience. I want him immediately. I undo the hooks of my longline and toss it aside. I slide my crinoline off my hips.

I'm in nothing but lacy white boy shorts, my shiny silver flats, and my rings, and Miles is looking at me like I'm just as beautiful as I was in my gown.

His hands go to my hips. He drops to his knees to slide my panties to my ankles and help me out of my shoes. Then he's spreading my legs wider.

He kisses his way up my thigh. He’s hungrier than usual, less patient. He plants his face between my legs and licks me up and down.

My husband is eating me out.

I dig my hand into his hair. The other goes to the wall behind me to help me keep my balance. Anticipation has me shaking. I can barely stand up straight.

The man is damn good at this. Pleasure builds in my core as he works me. Within moments, I'm at the edge.

I squeeze my thighs against his cheeks to contain the pleasure welling up inside me.

Fuck.

Almost.

There.

All that tension knots tighter and tighter then it releases. I scream his name as I come. Pleasure spills to my fingers and toes.

"Miles," I groan. I tug at his hair for good measure.

Miles pushes himself up. In one swift movement, he scoops me into his arms. He carries me to the bed and lays me flat on my back.

"Clothes off," I breathe.

He smiles. "Your wish is my command."

I watch as he strips. The tie and blazer go first then shoes and socks. He takes his time with the buttons of his shirt, with his belt, with his slacks.

Then it's just Miles and his black boxers.

I push myself to the edge of the bed. This is the first time I'm going to see my husband naked. It needs to be special.

I bring my hands to his hips, push his boxers to his ankles, and lean in to take his cock into my mouth.

He tastes good, and he's so fucking hard. I flick my tongue against his head a few times to tease him. Once he's groaning with the agony of anticipation, I take him deeper and suck hard.

Miles tugs at my hair. "Get on your back. I'm coming inside you."

All the heat in my body pools between my legs. Hell yes.

I lie back and spread my legs. Miles climbs onto the bed. He slides his hands under my ass, positioning my body so his cock strains against me.

My husband is about the enter me.

It's romantic and hot at the same time.

His fingers curl into the flesh of my ass as he slides into me. He does it slowly, one inch at a time. I soak in every second of it.

It's our first time having sex as a married couple.

It's fucking amazing.

He keeps one hand on my ass, using it to guide my movements as he thrusts into me. We move a little faster. A little harder.

His piercing blue eyes really are at their most beautiful when they're filled with pleasure.

I need more of his affection. I need every ounce of his affection. I slide my hands to the back of his head and pull him into a deep kiss.

We stay locked like that, my tongue in his mouth, his cock inside me.

Pleasure overtakes me. The tension in my core knots tighter and tighter, then it unwinds in one hell of an orgasm. I squeeze my thighs against his hips, groaning into his mouth as I come.

With a few more thrusts, he's there. His torso shakes. His fingers dig into my skin. I can feel his groans vibrating over my neck and chest.

I can feel his cock pulsing as he comes.

Our lips stay locked as we collapse onto our sides. He pulls me closer. It feels so good kissing him, kissing my husband, that it takes minutes for us to come up for air.

He pulls back. His eyes meet mine. "You want to get the couch or the Jacuzzi next?"

"The couch."

"In that case, I have your wedding gift." He shifts away to pull something from the beside drawer.

I've seen this before. It's a couple's vibrator.

Heat rushes through my body. I'm on my way to being ready to go again.

"It's a romantic choice," I say.

He pulls me into his arms and plants a kiss on my forehead. "Only the best for my wife."

––––––––

K
ara

I adjust my blouse and skirt. I need to look perfect. I know Drew doesn't care—he'd say I look best in nothing—but it calms me knowing my hair, makeup, and attire are on point.

I check my makeup in the mirror. My smoky eye is still perfect, but my lipstick could use a touch-up. I dig into my bag for my
baby, you know you want to kiss me
red.

Not that Drew needs any convincing on that front.

There. That's better. I take a deep breath as I study my reflection. Why am I so nervous? I wake up to Drew every morning. He knows what I look like exhausted, hungover, and sick.

No matter what, he always tells me I look beautiful.

I throw my lipstick back in my purse. It smacks into a tampon. There are tons of tampons in here. Enough for an entire cycle.

What the hell?

My phone buzzes. Drew. He's here. I check my makeup one more time. Deep breath.

Drew is here. Nothing else matters, certainly not my inability to stock my purse with an appropriate amount of feminine hygiene products.

Fuck, it's been so long since I've seen him. I can't do anything to contain my excitement. I practically burst out of the bathroom.

The baggage claim is crowded with people getting off the flight. Most are Bay Area tech types with hipster glasses and baggy hoodies.

A guy in a black hoodie moves out of the way.

There's Drew. I sigh with relief. Everything will be okay. He's here.

His dark eyes light up as he spots me. The exhaustion on his face is replaced with excitement.

He practically runs to me. He looks good in a tight t-shirt and skinny jeans, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

He stops next to me. In one swift movement, he drops the backpack and wraps his arms around me.

I bury my face in his chest. It's better than I thought it would be.

Drew is in my arms.

Fuck. I missed him.

"You look gorgeous," he mumbles.

I squeeze him tighter then release the hug enough I can look into his eyes. "How was the flight?"

"Which one?" He runs a hand through his hair. "Tom and Willow were making out the whole flight to LA."

"Really?"

He nods.

I laugh. "You must feel emasculated, baby, him making out with your sister in front of you."

"They
are
married." Drew shakes his head with disbelief. "She's happy. That's what matters."

"Proud of you for standing down." I rub his bicep. My fingers can't help but trace the lines of his tattoos. It's wrong how sexy his ink-covered arms are.

It's more wrong that he ever wears a shirt. Even now, the way his chest-piece tattoo peeks out from the low v of his v-neck...

My knees go weak. My heart thuds against my chest.

"How do you look so fuckable after fourteen hours in transit?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow, staring at me like I'm crazy. "I look like shit."

"No." I rise to my tiptoes so I can run my fingers through his short black hair. It's oily, in need of a wash. And his under-eye circles are darker than mine. Okay, I can admit it. "You look a little tired. And a little greasy. But all that means is that you need to be in the shower with me."

"Aren't we staying with your mom?"

"She went to bed before I left."

His eyes light up.

It's going to be difficult working around my mom's schedule for the two weeks we're spending in her townhouse. The place is a palace by San Francisco standards, but it's tiny by
I want my mom far enough away from my bedroom that she won't hear me fucking my fiancé
standards.

Drew can more than afford a hotel room, even a suite at a fancy hotel in SoMa, but it means the world to Mom that he's staying with us.

He leans down to kiss me. It's hungry and needy.

Somehow, I'm hungrier and needier than he is. At least it feels that way. It feels like I'll never get enough of kissing him.

I have to make up for every kiss we missed the last two weeks.

I need every inch of Drew. I need every bit of love, affection, and warmth.

I slide my tongue into his mouth and bring my hands to his waist. The fabric of his cotton t-shirt is thin enough I can feel the heat of his skin.

Fuck.

Why didn't we stay at a hotel?

***

T
he drive lasts a million hours. Thankfully, there's an open space on our street.

Drew grabs his suitcase from the trunk. For a moment, his eyes go to the place next door. It's the house where he grew up. His mom still lives there.

I see her from time to time. She always acts like he doesn't exist.

That must hurt. It hurts me just thinking about it.

I squeeze his hand.

He shakes his head, his attention coming back. "Fuck, I'm jet lagged."

"Thinking about your mom?"

He presses his lips together. Okay. He doesn't want to talk about it. Hard to blame him. Drew's not really the type to talk about his feelings. It's still hard for him to admit anything has ever hurt him.

I open the door for him and lead him to my room.

Drew sets his suitcase on the bed and unzips it. "Still can't believe how fast things with my mother went to shit." He opens each drawer in my dresser, one at a time. "You have any place for my stuff?"

"Shit. I forget to clear a drawer. Let me." I grab everything from my top drawer and shove it into the second.

"Quite the organizational skills."

I nod. Usually, I like keeping things neat. But right now, I'm itching to get Drew naked in that shower. "You want to talk about it?"

"Fuck no." His eyes pass over me. "What the fuck am I doing putting this shit away?"

I smile. "I was about to ask you that."

"God damn, Kendrick, your tits look divine in that blouse. How the fuck is it staying buttoned?"

"I'm going to be an English teacher, not a physics teacher," I tease.

"Better test it." He slides his arms around my hips. In one swift movement, he pins me to the wall. His lips go to my neck. My ear. My cheek. Then they're on mine.

His kiss is hard, needy.

He drags his hand up my torso. His fingers trace the neckline of my blouse. He undoes one button. Two. Three. That's enough for the shirt to spill open, my chest on display to him.

He slides his hand into my bra and rubs my nipple with his thumb.

Fuck, the man has magic fingers. They get better every time I see him.

He pulls back. His dark eyes meet mine. They're as hungry as his kiss. He shifts his hips so I can feel his erection. "Not sure if my hands or my cock missed you more."

"Why choose?"

He steps back, taking my hand. "This is gonna be fast. Was thinking about you the whole flight here."

Before I can respond, his lips are on mine. His tongue slides into my mouth. He groans as he palms my ass over my skirt.

We stumble to the bathroom. With Mom asleep in her bedroom, it's way too loud. I lock the door—just in case she gets up—and run the shower.

Hopefully, I can stay quiet enough the shower muffles everything.

His eyes fix on me as he undoes the last three buttons of my blouse. He nearly rips the thing off my shoulders. He nearly breaks the zipper of my skirt as he undoes it and slides it off my hips.

I reach back to unhook my bra.

His eyes go wide as the garment falls to the floor.