Chapter 43 #3
“You’ve had me in here,” I said, leading him across the threshold onto the cool stone of the balcony. The night air was a shock against my heated skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and making my nipples peak into tight, sensitive buds. “I want you out here.”
The view was breathtaking. The vineyard stretched out in front of us under a canopy of stars, the distant, twinkling lights of the reception venue barely visible through the trees.
I turned to face him, my back to the railing. The cool stone bit into my skin. I reached for him, pulling him against me, and his heat enveloped me, a stark contrast to the chill at my back. “I want to feel the night air on my skin while my husband fucks me.”
A low, guttural sound ripped from his throat as his hands landed on my hips, his grip almost bruising. “Fuck. You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Promise?” I whispered, leaning up to nip at his bottom lip.
He answered me with a kiss that was all-consuming fire, his tongue plunging into my mouth as his hands slid down to grip the backs of my thighs. In one fluid, powerful motion, he lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. My back met the rough, cool stone of the railing.
The world dropped away behind me. There was only the solid strength of him holding me up and the vast, star-dusted emptiness at my back. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.
He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged pants that misted in the cool air. His eyes burned into mine. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Tell me.”
“I want you to take me. Right here. Where anyone could see.”
His grip tightened. “No one’s seeing this but me.
This is all for me.” He lowered me slowly, my body sliding down his until my feet touched the ground.
He spun me around, my hands landing on the wide top of the stone railing.
The world tilted, the vineyard swaying below me.
He pressed his big, warm body against my back, his cock a hard, insistent pressure against the cleft of my ass.
Oh god.
His mouth found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, sucking a mark into my skin that I knew would be there tomorrow.
A brand. His hands smoothed over my hips, my waist, then came around to cup my breasts, pinching and rolling my nipples until I was whimpering, pushing back against him.
“So eager,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. One hand slid down my stomach and found my clit. I jerked against the railing, a sharp cry escaping me as his fingers circled the hyper-sensitive nub. “So wet for me already. Again.”
“You… you ruin me,” I managed to gasp, my knuckles white where I gripped the stone.
“I worship you,” he corrected, his fingers sliding lower, dipping inside me, making my inner muscles clench around nothing. “And right now, I’m going to worship you from behind.”
He knelt. Just like he had in the bedroom. But this was different. The cool night air washed over my exposed skin, and then his hot mouth was on me, his tongue licking a long, slow stroke through my pussy.
I cried out, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet night. My head dropped between my shoulders. His hands spread me open for his mouth, his tongue delving deep, flicking and sucking with a focused intensity that had my legs trembling.
“Dallas… I can’t… I’m going to…” The climax was building too fast, a dizzying crescendo sparked by the contrast of the cool air, the rough stone under my hands, and the searing heat of his mouth.
He didn’t let up. He drove me over the edge with a ruthless expertise, his tongue working my clit in tight, rapid circles as two fingers thrust deep inside me, curling perfectly.
I came with a shattered moan, my body convulsing against his mouth, my vision spotting as I gripped the railing for dear life.
He drew it out, drinking every last spasm until I was limp, supported only by his arm wrapped around me.
He rose, his body molding to my back again. I felt the blunt, slick head of his cock nudge against my entrance. I was so sensitive, so utterly spent, yet the feel of him there had a fresh wave of liquid heat pooling inside me.
“Look,” he commanded, his voice rough in my ear. He nudged my chin, forcing my gaze out over the railing, across the dark, sleeping vineyard. “Look at where you are while I take my wife.”
And then he pushed inside.
It was a full, stretching, perfect invasion. My breath hitched. He filled me completely, the angle somehow deeper, more intense than before. He held himself there, buried to the hilt, letting me feel every inch of him.
“Fuck, Baby,” he groaned, his forehead dropping between my shoulder blades. “You’re so tight. Still clenching around me from your orgasm. It feels like heaven.”
He began to move. Slow, at first. Long withdrawals followed by a deep thrust that stole my breath. The rhythmic slap of our skin was loud in the quiet night. The risk of being seen, of being heard, it all melted away until there was only this. Him. Me.
His pace quickened, becoming harder, more urgent. One hand tangled in my hair, a gentle but firm pull that arched my back, and the other hand slid around my hip, as he found my clit again.
The deep, pounding thrusts and the circling of his thumb had a new orgasm building in my core, terrifyingly fast.
“That’s it,” he gritted out, his breath hot on my neck. “Come again. Come all over my cock. Let me feel you.”
His filthy words were the final trigger. The climax exploded through me, a silent, blinding shockwave that ripped a choked scream from my throat. My inner muscles clamped down on him, milking him, and that was all it took.
With a grunt, he drove into me one last, final time, his body stiffening against mine as he pulsed deep inside me.
We collapsed together over the railing, both of us gasping for air, slick with sweat. The cool night air was a blessing on my heated skin. He stayed buried inside me, his body a heavy, comforting weight, his arms wrapped around me, holding me to him as we both slowly floated back down to earth.
Later, I would lie in his arms and trace patterns on his chest and marvel at everything that had brought us here. The accidental Vegas wedding. The fake relationship that had become real. The surprise ceremony that had given me a day I would never forget.
But in that moment, there was only Dallas. Only his hands and his mouth and his whispered promises. Only the love we'd built from chaos and chosen every day since.
My husband.
My forever.
Mine.