Chapter 8 Catarina
CATARINA
“Do you,” the Officiant, who was dressed like Elvis paused, checking his notes, “Dustin LeBlanc, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and to rock out with until the last years of your life?”
“I do,” he said and slipped the ring over my finger.
“And do you, ah, Catarina Vidal, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold until death do you part?”
“I do.”
I slipped the ring over his finger and brought my gaze up to his. My stomach churned with anxiety—or was that excitement?
I couldn’t mull over my thoughts for too long, because a few moments later his lips were on mine and he was kissing me like this was the thousand-and-first time he had kissed me, and not only did he know how I usually liked it, he also knew how to change things up.
His hands squeezed my ass and I moaned, and the witnesses faded away and it was just the two of us.
I moaned into his mouth, feeling his stubble rub up against my cheeks.
He hadn’t had that stubble even a few hours ago when I saw him in the elevator.
A lot can happen in eight hours, apparently. Especially in Vegas.
While my mind raced with questions, his eyes were a beautiful distraction in front of me.
My heart pounded and he led me down the stairs.
He gave me his jacket before we headed outside and got into the limo.
I looked at him and rubbed the scruff on his face with one hand and drank champagne with the other.
“This cava is delicious,” I said. “From Spain.”
He smiled and turned his head away from me, his eyes focused on something just beyond the window.
I studied his face, noticing his sudden distance. Although he was in the limo with me physically, He seemed million miles away, thinking about something else. I took another swallow of my drink and my phone buzzed. A text from Phoebe.
Phoebe: You okay? I’ve been seeing your snaps! Are these for real?!
Catarina: Oh yes. Got married
Phoebe: :O :O :O :O
The phone buzzed, but I wasn’t going to answer it. We were on our honeymoon, after all. The limo pulled up in front of our hotel and the world around us went out of focus. I put my phone on silent.
The next hour or so was a blur, as we went to the casino and showed off our rings, played slots, blackjacks, drank more, and generally made fools of ourselves having a fantastic time.
I had no idea what time it was, but I knew I felt high as we finally went up the elevator to his penthouse.
We held hands, in silence, waited until the porter had closed the door for us, and then I used the bathroom while he poured us a couple of drinks at the in-room bar.
When he came back, I took a hefty swig of my champagne and even though I thought I felt a buzz going through me, I couldn’t be sure. What with how high I was flying from the fact that I had just gotten freaking married.
Dustin grinned as we clinked glasses.
“So,” I asked after taking a big pull. “What do you want to do now?”
Dustin shrugged, and a deliciously wrong smirk came across his face. “Live happily ever after?”
We set our drinks down, and we both knew it was game on.
He pressed my body up against the bar. My hands frantically undid his belt buckle, zipper, and buttons on the front of his shirt.
“Now we’ve got to find out just how sexually compatible we are,” he growled in my ear as my dress came up over my shoulders.
I swallowed as he planted a kiss just below my ear. My heart palpitated like crazy, and I felt his bare skin press up against mine. His hands slid up my stomach until they reached my breasts, and he slipped off my bra.
“Fuck, these are perfect,” he growled in my ear. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue on my nipples, turning them rock hard. I gripped his shoulder and let my gaze fall on his short hair, my mouth agape.
He kissed my chest all over, slowly, until he reached my belly button and hesitated.
Wrapping his arms around my ass, he lifted me up, sat me on the bar, and pulled my panties off.
My heart had fluttered at the weightlessness of being lifted into the air. Even as I sat on the bar, he was tall enough that we were on eye level with each other.
He licked his lips, “Damn, Doctor,” he said.
My mouth spread into a smile. “Shut up and go down on me.”
He kissed me again and dragged his tongue across my jawline, then whispered in my ear: “Anything for you, Wifey.”
I leaned back on the bar as his tongue twisted between my legs. When he pressed two fingers inside, I let out a small gasp.
“Holy shit, Dustin,” I moaned. “Oh my gosh.” My body twisted as waves of desire poured through me, each seeming more powerful than the last.
The worries of the past and future faded away and there was only the present, this man, who not thirty-six hours ago I was talking trash about to Phoebe at the bar, was now going down on me like he owned my pussy.
I shuddered and felt my orgasm on the brink of ripping through my body when he pulled away, picked me up by wrapping his arms around my hips and ass, and carried me to bed.
The covers were so soft, I felt like I’d landed on top of pillows when he set me down.
As I lay back, propped up on actual pillows, I watched in dimmed light as he finished taking off his briefs and got totally naked.
My heart pounded furiously.
The way the light struck him was like a movie, and he had a very lickable body.
“Come here,” I said, motioning him toward me.
He got on the bed, on his knees, and I pointed for him to position himself straddling me.
He figured it out quick, hovering just over my breasts.
I grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing it and staring up into his eyes, which flickered with pleasure.
If my husband was a giver—which was true based on what happened earlier tonight at the bar—I was going to be just as generous.
Using the base of his cock as an anchor, I licked the little line of muscle along his hips.
Next, I guided him into my mouth, and he leaned back with his long arm and fingered me.
I moaned and the pleasure he gave me spurred me on to take him deeper. It was a positive feedback spiral of being incredibly turned on.
His gentle moans changed into growls, and he pulled his cock out from my mouth, spread my legs and pulled a condom on, then slid into me.
The deep penetration set me off slowly at first and then fired fast through me all at once. He pushed deep inside me with his hands feeling my breasts. After a while, he put my legs on his shoulders and that drove him deeper.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I screamed loudly as my orgasm pulled through me.
He rolled our bodies so I was on top, and I rode him to my second, while he nibbled on my nipples dangling in front of his face.
His grip became tighter and he fucked me harder, the slap slap slap of his hips against mine reverberating through the giant penthouse.
“Fuck yes, Catarina,” he grunted as his cock twitched inside me and he gripped me hard and came harder.
I’d made him lose control.
Another orgasm pulsed through my body and I didn’t know what to think.
I’d never had a triple before and I didn’t know if I was so turned on because this was our first time or because he was my husband.
Because his tongue had been so soothing on the bar earlier or because he gripped me so tightly right now.
I clenched and felt him pulse inside me.
He tied off the condom, cleaned up, and got back into bed next to me.
As we came down, turned on our sides, and he kissed my forehead and said goodnight, I knew that this wasn’t the time to ask any more questions. I was too tired and had had too many cocktails to think this through right now.
“Goodnight, Husband,” I whispered.
He flipped my body around so I could cuddle into him, wiggling my hips.
“Oh, you think we’re done?” he said.
“We’re not?”
“I told you,” he said, reaching a hand around and lightly rubbing a finger between my legs. “Sex slave for life. Or did you not read that part of the marriage certificate?”
“You didn’t write that in there,” I scoffed.
I felt his lips brush my ear. “Did you read the fine print?”
Something coiled in my stomach, in a good way. “Can’t say that I did.”
“Well, don’t. Just trust me on it,” he said in a low chuckle.