35. Raif
I want my wedding night.
I want it, too. More than she’ll ever know—than I can ever let her know. She deserves better than this. Better than me.
“I owe you shit,” I grate out, turning from all that is lovely. Spread out on my bed.
“You’re a coward,” she whispers.
And she’s right. I’m afraid if I have her—have her under me—I will crush her. I can’t be her rock, the thing she leans on. But I will be her launching pad. I’m her building, and I’ll point her to the sky because she deserves so much better.
But for now, we have this, each of us fulfilling our roles.
“Think what you like,” I say, reaching the door as I fight the instinct and allow my feet to carry me in the opposite direction.
“You won’t touch me because you’re afraid. You think I’m damaged.”
My heart halts. Calcifies. As do my fingers on the handle.
“You’re worried you won’t be able to put me back together.”
“Stop. Just stop. You’ve got it all wrong.” I hang my head. Why does it have to be this way?
“But I don’t need you to fix me. What I need is for you to fuck me.”
“You don’t know what you’re—” I swallow back my words, clamping my lips shut over them.
“Finish what you were going to say. I can’t extrapolate.”
“No.”
“Fine, but know that if you walk out of that door, we’re over.”
I angle my head, watching as she reclines, as she lifts her arms above her head, her body stretching, wanting, temptation personified.
“If I leave, you still get your money.”
“I don’t care. Not anymore.”
“You will have suffered being married to me for nothing.”
“I haven’t suffered. But there’s still time to make me.” Her eyes flash like blue flames. I dare you.
I’m not angry. I’m exhausted. Tired of fighting my need. I pivot—maybe I don’t even realize until I’m standing at the edge of the bed.
“Don’t test me, Lavender. You don’t want me like this.”
“Sexsplaining, Raif. Really?”
I grip her thigh—my fingers just above her knee. “You want me wild, princess? You’re going the right way about it.”
“Yes.” A sibilant hiss as she presses her hand between her legs once more. “I want you wild and inside me.”
She is an invitation to destruction.
For us both, I think as I fall over her.
My fingers grasp, my tongue thrusts. Her mouth sucks. The moment was like gathering pace and momentum, gravel slipping over a hill and becoming an avalanche. It’s as though this is what we were built for. Like this thing between us finally makes sense.
“You drive me insane.” My hand at the base of her throat. “Make me feel like I could hurt you, like I could snap you in two.”
“Yes, Raif. Yes!” Her eyes fucking darken, my name on her lips all breath and relief as her slim fingers slide into my hair. “I want it,” she demands, pulling hard on the strands.
“Fuck!” The intensity rolls down my back, and I drop my hips over hers, the slow grind a signal of my attentions.
“Fuck!” The intensity rolls down my back, and I drop my hips over hers, the slow grind a signal of my attention.
“Don’t stop.”
“No, princess. Not until all that’s left are our sighs and our bones.”
The tenor changes from violence to tenderness as my fingers cradle her neck. Tan, rough fingertips to pale silk. I tip her chin, my lips a slow slide, the stubble on my cheek abrading as I press my thumb into her kiss-plump mouth.
I grunt as she catches it between her teeth, then use it to open her mouth to my kiss. Rough, passionate, her need meets mine as she moans, her fingers curling into my sides.
Need builds in my veins, my cock straining against her as every cell in my body seems to cry out for more. More touch. More taste. More skin. More Lavender as we kiss and kiss.
“Let me,” she rasps, her fingers plucking at my shirt. Pulling it from my waistband. “I want to feel you.” One button loose, two, then three, she yanks the cotton over my head. “God. You’re so beautiful.”
“Princess, that’s my line.”
But she doesn’t pause to accept my compliment as her avid eyes watch her hands slide down my chest. Her fingers splay across my pecs, her pinky fingers sliding over my flat nipples.
I groan, overcome.
“Not ornamental after all,” she murmurs as she lifts and presses her teeth to me.
“Me?”
“The male boob.” Her expression is pure mischief. “Chesticles.”
“Pectoral muscles,” I growl. But then she bites. “Fuck, yes!” Buckets and buckets for fuck, yes.
“You like it rough.” Her teeth scrape, a smile leaking through her words.
“Yeah,” I say on a tortured gasp. “Use your teeth.” My forearms tremble as I brace myself over her. Her fingernails scrape over my ribs, her hot little mouth the vehicle of such pleasured agony.
“What about here?” Her question is husky as she palms my cock, reaching for my belt.
I give a low rumble as I catch her hands, pressing them to the mattress above her head. I’m so fucking turned on. I don’t need the stimulation. “My turn now.”
She doesn’t protest.
“This dress.” My eyes roam over her tight body, her ponytail coming apart strand by strand, those sapphire eyes so dark, her breathless, heaving chest. “This fucking dress.”
It’s such an obvious play, the cut of the garment meant to drive a man wild.
It doesn’t underdeliver.
Rolling onto my arm, I frame her breast with my right hand, then trace my tongue over the soft mounds.
“Oh God.” Her hands twitch, but I hold them outstretched as I press my teeth to one soft swell.
“That’s going to mark.”
“I hope so.”
“One day, I’ll fuck you in this dress,” I growl, slipping my fingers into her cleavage. “I’ll take you dancing, then take you home.”
“Yes.”
“Bend you over the glass fence and—”
“Frighten me with a potential wifely demise.”
“No, Lavender. Your fate is set. I’m going to fuck you to death.”
“Half please,” she rasps. “Only half to death. And just to be sure, you can do it to me again.”
“Again and again.”
Her body undulates into my touch as I fold back the tight bodice, exposing her hard, pink nipples to my touch.
“So pretty,” I whisper, painting a wet stripe each in turn. A graze of teeth, a sucking pull, and I allow her fingers to reach for my head. As they tighten in my hair, the sensation rolls down my spine in an explosion of, “Fuck, yeah.”
With a growl, I envelop one tight bud—fill my mouth with all that I can. My cock pulses against her thigh.
“That’s…”
“Too much?”
“Yes, too much. Not enough,” she whimpers, her body moving under me. Such sweet, urgent agony as the inside of her foot slides up my calf.
I feel frenzied, half-crazed myself, as though I won’t ever get enough as I suck and pull, lick and graze, working my hand between us to press it between her legs.
“Yes! Oh God, yes!”
“I can feel you pulsing against my fingertips.”
Her hands squeeze my biceps, my back, and grasp my nape. “Please.”
“You’re so hot for me.” I grunt as I wrench her dress higher, my mind rushing ahead, my mouth watering for her
“Yes, please. Hurry.”
“Wider, sweetheart. Spread yourself for me,” I coax, hooking my hand behind her knee.
“That sounds so bad.”
“But you look so good.” Fuck, the heat of her pussy as I hold her. As I squeeze. “So good, half undressed and spread sluttily. You’re my pretty fucking feast.”
“Raif.” Under me, she twists as though she can’t contain what she’s feeling.
“I think you’d do anything for me right now. You’re so wild for this.”
She hears my intentions or thinks she does as she presses her smile into her shoulder. “You’re not slapping my face with your—oh, fuck!” she cries as I bring my hand swiftly, sharply between her legs.
Her mouth falls open, but no words come out, her heat and aftershocks dissolving my brain cells.
“My cock next.” I breathe the words hot and heavy in her ear as I press two fingers over her panty-covered slit. I work them inside. “You like the sound of that, don’t you? Your hot little clit is pounding for the abuse.”
“Shut up,” she says, throwing her arm across her eyes. But a smile leaks through her retort, and her cheeks are so adorably pink.
“Make me.”
Her breath catches, her body bowing as I stretch her. As I devour her mouth.
“You’re so wet for me, so ready for my cock.”
“Yes.” She pants, gulping for air as two fingers become three, as a tender slide becomes a vigorous finger fucking. “Oh God!”
She sucks as I thrust my tongue in her mouth, the desire to be everywhere and all at once such a headfuck.
“I’m going to make you come like this, princess. Would you like that?”
“Yes! Please.” Her body begins to work in time with mine.
“Listen to the mess you’re making of my fingers. You’re gonna come so hard. Make my fingers sticky and sweet before you lick them clean.”
“God, you’re so dirty.”
“Then I’ll press my head between your legs, and you’ll come again.”
And she’s so lush and ripe as her attention turns inward and her eyes kind of gloss over.
“This dirty mouth is going to suck on your pussy and make you come again.”
“Oh!”
I work her deeper, swiping my thumb over her clit in decreasing circles. So slick and so plump.
“Oh! I’m—”
But I’m right there with her as her climax ripples against my fingers. She’s all gasp and aching sounds, and I swallow them all down. They’ll stay inside me, a part of her, a part of this night, mine forever more.
“You did so well.” We kiss and kiss, my touch slowing, her body still undulating.
“Thanks.” A breathless laugh, her eyes barely catching mine. “And thanks yourself.”
“You’re welcome.” The corner of my mouth lifts, and she whimpers as I pull my fingers from her wet heat. That fucking sound. So wet and so soft. And all mine.
Maybe mine forever.
“I want you to…” Lavender reaches for me, and I pause. I want to be sure—sure that she wants this, wants me, for the right reasons.
“Soon, sweetheart.” I paint a wet strip across her lips, her arousal sticky and sweet between my fingertips. “We have all night.”
We might even have a lifetime.