Chapter 21 Penelope #2
Our mouths moved slow, like we had all the time in the world to explore and discover each other.
His tongue slowly trailed over my bottom lip as if he were savoring the taste of it.
I allowed him to pull it in between his teeth.
I hissed as I stroked my tongue over him in the same way.
Jamie groaned, slipping his hands into the water and underneath my legs.
I shrieked as he pulled me out of the water and held me bridal style to his chest.
“I’d like to taste you properly, Mrs. King.”
My chest nearly seized at hearing him call me that. I kept the knowledge that this was all a part of the ruse at the forefront of my mind. Orgasms could be a piece of the fake marriage, I didn’t mind. I could keep my pesky, bleeding heart out of it.
I assumed he’d carry me to the bed, but he kept walking until we were out in the living room.
The sunset stretched across the horizon, the sun dipping below the clouds, casting orange and purple hues into the suite and there, on the long, rectangular table, big enough for six people to eat at, he laid me down.
The curtains for the floor-to-ceiling windows were open, so the entire sunset was within our scope.
He slid his black t-shirt up, over his head and then gently stuffed it under my head as a pillow. “Didn’t want you to miss the sunset.”
My ass was near the edge of the table as I planted my feet and turned my head so I could enjoy the ending of the first full day as Mrs. Jameson King. One of the best days I had ever had.
Jamie took a seat at the end, his face level with my parted thighs and then his warm fingers were brushing against my sex.
I loved the way he touched me, loved how he started slow, and then worked his way to urgency.
After a few strokes up and down my slit, he gently pried my pussy open with the pad of his thumb.
“Don’t know what all we need to clarify in this relationship, Pen, but this...” He stroked me gently. “This right here isn’t complicated…it’s mine. No one else gets to touch you while you’re my wife.”
A tear slipped down the side of my face as I tilted it to see the vibrant colors fade from the sky.
It looked like a wildflower, so I closed my eyes and made a wish right as his mouth replaced his thumb, his tongue spearing a path through my throbbing center.
Firm hands went to my thighs, wrapping around them as he moved his tongue deeper.
A gasp cut through me as he moved his lips sensually against my pussy in a similar fashion that he’d done earlier.
Slow, methodical kisses, using his tongue to swipe up through my folds and then circle my clit, and back down.
I felt like a meal, served on a platter.
He was seated as if we were about to eat, and here I was spread out for him, naked, dripping all over the table.
My nipples were peaked and hard as I stroked them and cupped my breasts. Jamie was moving his tongue faster over me, while sliding a finger into my center and lapping at my clit.
“Jamie. Oh my god!” My eyes were shut tight; my fingers fastened to my nipples. We had no lights on in the hotel suite, so as the light from outside dimmed, so did the light inside, but it was slightly perfect because it meant no one would see us.
I was on a cloud; a wave of perfection was cutting into me as I moaned and moaned. His tongue was perfect, his kisses languid and slow. Messy and wet. He’d added in two more fingers, and I was about to completely combust.
“Perfect, Penelope. So goddamn perfect. And mine. You have my name on your lips as you’re coming apart, my tongue in your cunt, my fingers as you clench around me. Now let go and come, I want to see you drip onto this table.”
I did. A harsh and unyielding rush of joy slammed into me as I came apart, screaming his name. I had never felt like this before, never felt so high, with my chest practically open—soaking in the feel of him.
“That’s it, fuck,” he growled, using his finger he tugged the upper part of my center, which forced my release to bead and drip down my slit. “You made a mess of the table, Mrs. King. I suggest you come and clean it up.”
God, I was so hot, I felt like my insides were on fire.
He was up, hovering over me with a feral gleam in his eye.
He slid his hands under my knees and behind my back until I was in his arms, then we walked back to his chair where he gently arranged me in his lap.
I was facing the table, directly in front of the mess I’d made.
“If you weren’t pregnant right now, I would have made you crawl to me, but this works just as well.” His hands gathered my long hair in a light grip, and then he whispered in my ear, “now lick it up like a good wife.”
Fuck, the mouth on him was a devastating discovery. How on earth would I ever have regular sex after this? No one had ever stirred my emotions or my nerves in such a way that I was soaking from mere syllables.
I leaned forward and lowered my face, while he held my hair in his fist, and with an exaggerated move, licked up the small mess on the table.
“Turn around and let me taste it on your lips.”
Straightening in his lap, where I felt his hard length under me, I twisted. My eyes dropped to his, seeing the desire there, and my stomach flipped.
Releasing my hair his hand moved to my chin, where he pulled me closer until my mouth was on his and with my release still in my mouth, I opened for him.
He let out a moan as his tongue slipped inside my mouth and licked me clean.
Our kiss became urgent as he moved with me, tilting my head and cupping my breast with his massive hands.
My nipples were gently tugged and tweaked, which had me squirming over his hardness.
When we finally broke apart, I smiled at him. “What else would you like to do with me, husband?”
Dark eyes met mine while he slowly got to his feet.
“Endless things, I’d need to keep you forever in order to fulfill every fantasy.” His whisper was a heated confession spoken against my lips as he pulled me down by the neck to meet his kiss.
“But for now...” He cradled me in his arms again, getting to his feet and walked over to the couch, where he set me down gently against the leather. “Sit there and let me see that pretty pink tongue.”
I watched as he stood in front of me, and pulled the button of his jeans and let them hang loose on his hips. I saw his black boxer briefs, and the tattoo I was so curious about, but then those were lowered too, and his cock was pulled out.
Gloriously long, thick and hard. The purple head wept with clear cum, which only increased as his fist cradled the veiny length and pulled back. He stroked his cock while watching me, which had me moving my hands to my breasts, toying with them while his fist flicked faster and faster.
“I’m about to cover your face in cum. I suggest you close your eyes, Mrs. King, and keep that tongue out so you can taste what you do to me.”
I kept my eyes open, letting my mouth hang, and my tongue drop out.
“Fuck.” He groaned while seizing himself in a death grip, while ribbons began coating my face, my tongue and lashes.
I blinked quickly to avoid any getting in my eye, but most of it landed in my mouth, against my waiting tastebuds.
Pinching my nipples, I ached for him to release himself over my chest, so I could rub the mess into my skin, like a fucking brand.
Jameson stroked my hair, hissing while he used his other hand to smear around the mess on my face.
“I never thought it would be like this,” he whispered, staring down at me.
Even knowing I was covered in his release, I smiled up at him and asked, “like what?”
“Perfect.”
He didn’t fuck me.
Not after making me come two more times using his fingers and tongue. I was so exhausted by the last one that I actually fell asleep. I must have dozed for an hour or so when Jamie woke me up with a soft kiss explaining that we were going to dinner.
I’d bought a nice flowy maxi dress that would work, especially if I did up my hair and makeup.
He was dressed in a nice white shirt, with slacks, and my eyes kept dropping to his shoes.
They were shiny and brown, and looked like Jameson could have easily just stepped out of a classroom.
I wanted him to roll his sleeves up, but I knew he wanted to look nice for the dinner, so I let it go.
An hour later, we were being driven by an Uber to a little rooftop bar. The elevator shot us out onto what I had expected to be a bustling area with the fire tables, twinkling lights and sprawling city scape below, but only a few servers were standing there, along with the bartender.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, welcome, your table is ready.” One of the servers led us to a small table that was in the center of at least three fire tables and two tall heaters, which held off the winter chill. We were given water, and explained the specials, and then left alone.
“Jamie,” I whispered, leaning forward, trying to understand how he’d managed to reserve a table at one of what seemed like the nicest bars in the city.
My gaze snagged on the city below, and the river that cut through it, how it looked like liquid starlight from here.
Just then I realized there were a ton of stars overhead too, not dimmed by the rooftop lights.
“I had them cut out a third of the lights, so we could see the stars,” Jamie said, ducking his face as if it embarrassed him that he’d thought of something so considerate. I was slightly speechless for a second before just blurting.
“Why are you torturing me with all this?”
His brown eyes slid up to me, a wild expression crossing his features, as if I’d just told him I had fifteen toes instead of ten.
“Torturing you?”
Leaning closer, I explained, “yes, you’re torturing me by showing me how good I could have had it.
I get it, Jamie, you’re amazing. I missed out but you can scale it back.
I know this isn’t real and what we did earlier was likely still about my hormones, which explains why we didn’t fuck, but I just—” I tried to gather my thoughts, but they felt frayed, too disfigured and undone to even touch.
“It’s hard to experience all this knowing it’s so temporary. ”
His brows drew in, his gaze slowly drifting down to the tablecloth, but before he could respond, the server returned with our drinks and to take our order. Once we were alone again, Jamie began sliding his chair back.
“Do you know we never danced at our wedding reception?”
I looked up at him. “It was—”
“Fake. I know.” He shook his head and reached for my hand. “Maybe I want to treat you like you’re my wife because I think that’s what you deserve. I told you a long time ago, Penelope, if you were mine, things would be different for you.”
He lifted my hand, and I stood in front of him, tears gleaming in my eyes.
“So, wife, dance with me.”
My arms slid up to his shoulders as his came around my back, and suddenly there were violins playing through the speakers. The sound was soft, and immediately had a smile cresting my face. “This was what I walked down the aisle to.”
His nose brushed against my ear as he hummed. “What’s it from?”
My lips spread again as a laugh bubbled inside me. “Have you ever heard of Bridgerton?”
It was his turn to laugh. “Thought I recognized one of those songs.”
“They’re all covers.”
“So, you enjoy historical romance tv shows with a contemporary twist. I know you love wildflowers, and you’re one hell of a photographer. What else have I missed over these past few years?”
My feet barely moved, but my heart seemed to freefall.
“You mean while you were ignoring me?”
He didn’t answer, but his back felt as if he’d stopped breathing under my palms.
When he finally did respond, his voice was quiet. “I was never ignoring you, Pen.”
“Then what were you doing?” I leaned back to see his eyes, because the answer to one of my deepest questions that had plagued me for years would surely be resting in them.
His brown eyes flicked over my face, landing on my lips.
“Surviving.”
The scoff that left my chest was all pain. Agony over losing the one person who had become like my best friend. The one who I had always secretly loved, but never felt good enough for.
“Surviving what? A life without me, because it sure seemed like you were happy out there on your own, away from me.”
“You made your choice with Luke, I wasn’t going to get in the middle of that, especially after our past.”
My rage was palpable, and I hadn’t even noticed we’d stopped dancing. We just held each other under the stars, joined in marriage, yet a chasm remained between us.
“Why not? You never fought for me, not once. You just led me on, toyed with me only to let me go, and then when I finally moved on, you let Luke take me. How come you didn’t fight?”
His jaw tensed, and it looked like a muscle was jumping in it as he released me and stepped back.
“Answer me, Jamie. How come you never fought for me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it and then took a step toward me, but right as he did, the servers brought our food out.
“Let’s just eat, Pen.”
I didn’t feel like eating. I felt like fighting.
I just wished Jameson felt the same.