Julia #2
My breathing stutters as I let the dress fall further and further down my body, exposing me, until it pools at my feet and I step out of it.
When I turn to him again, I can see the want in his eyes, pulsing somewhere inside of him like there’s no room for anything else. His gaze sweeps down my body, standing there in front of him in this perfect, untouched lingerie.
His wife, on our wedding night.
I lean back against the door, making sure it’s shut, not moving my gaze from him for a moment. “It’s our wedding night, Antonio,” I whisper to him.
His jaw tightens. “I know.”
“And you’re looking at me like that.”
He draws his gaze away from me, with great difficulty. “You should go.”
“You want me to?”
If he wants me to go, I will. But I can tell from the look on his face right now that he doesn’t. His jaw tightens, and I can see him stirring beneath his pants. The realization sends another shock of want through me, as crazy as I know it is.
But I want someone to need me right now, to crave me the way I should be craved, as a wife, a lover, all the things that I’ve sworn to be.
And Antonio, the way he’s staring at me, it’s unlike anything I’ve felt before.
All kinds of wrong wrapped up in all kinds of right, and I know I won’t be able to settle for less.
I take a step forward, planting a shaky hand on his chest. He tenses, but makes no move to push me away.
“Antonio,” I whisper. “I want you. I want you to make me your wife. Consummate this marriage.”
His hand rests on my hip—even that touch is enough to overheat a part of me, my belly tightening as I crave for more.
Fuck, he could do anything he wanted to me right now, and I know I would be helpless to resist. There’s something fiery about it, hard-edged, like a warning.
Like a threat, but one I want to see through.
“You want this?” he asks, his voice low, rough.
I nod. I reach for his face, touching the stubble on his jaw, brushing his hair back from his cheek.
“Then say it.”
I stare up at him. I don’t know how I could have made it more obvious that I want him right now, and the words are failing me.
I flutter my lashes at him, suddenly shy. “I don’t have to say it, do I…?”
But he slides his hand along my waist, up to my chin, grasping me roughly as he guides my gaze to his. The look on his face leaves no room for argument, and I gasp, shocked by his sudden dominance.
“Say it, Julia. I want to hear you say it.”
I stare at him. Am I really going to do this?
I have no idea what this will change between us, if it’s a good idea, if I’m downright crazy for even thinking about hooking up with the man who would have been my father-in-law had things gone as they were supposed to today. And yet…
“I want you, Antonio.”
As soon as I speak, I realize that I’ve been certain from the moment I stepped into his office.
My dress pooled on the floor below us, he pulls me toward him, kissing me hard.
Kissing me like his damn life depends on it, tongue slipping deep into my mouth, teeth catching on my lip.
His hands are already working their way around my body, grasping and touching and feeling me like this is what he has been waiting for since the moment he slipped that ring onto my finger.
He reaches around to undo my bra, tossing it aside, and palms my breasts, his mouth working toward my neck and throat like he wants to take a chunk out of me.
I tip my head back, staring at the wood-paneled ceiling, as I reach for him, running my hands down his back, feeling his strength, his power, his certainty.
He pulls me against him, and I can feel his hardness beneath his pants, sending a tingling shock of need down between my thighs.
I whimper as he pulls his head back, looking me in the eye, and kisses me again, hands on my waist as he digs his fingers into me like he wants to commit the feel of me to memory.
He turns me around, pushing me back against his desk, and moves between my legs so he can grind himself greedily against me.
My pussy throbs with anticipation, my mind swept up in the sudden passion of his touch.
It’s like he’s been holding himself back for a long time, and now all he wants is to give himself over to the lust he doesn’t have to hide.
He grabs my ass, grunting against my mouth, and I manage to take hold of his shoulders to keep from toppling over as my legs threaten to give out underneath me.
But this, it seems, isn’t exactly how he wants me.
No, he turns me around, pinning me to the desk, and slides a hand to the small of my back so I’m bent over before him. I manage to take hold of the wood before I lose my balance, standing on tiptoe so he can reach every part of me that he needs.
He reaches between my legs, grasping my panties and tearing them off in a single motion. The beautiful white lace is tossed to the side of the desk as he pulls me into position, my back arching almost of its own accord as he looks down at me.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, grinding himself into my bare pussy once again. “You look so fucking good like that, Julia.”
I steal a look back over my shoulder to see him taking himself into his hand, the sound of the zipper announcing his intentions to finally fuck me. Right here, bent over his desk.
It’s not exactly the wedding night I pictured, but somehow, this is a million times hotter. I know this is wrong, all kinds of taboo, but the way he takes control of me sates something in me I didn’t even know I needed. Right now, I’m helpless to do anything but what he asks.
I feel him guide himself against me, hand sliding up my back to wrap his fingers around my hair—it’s loose from the updo I wore to the wedding, and he tugs back on it slightly, guiding me into position exactly where he wants me.
The tension in my scalp draws a moan from my lips, and then I feel the pressure of his hardness against my slit.
My eyes flutter shut, and my body seems to narrow to nothing more but the sensation of his cock slowly sliding into me.
He takes his time, feeding himself into me, as though he wants to enjoy every second of my pussy.
As though this might be the only time he allows himself to do this, and he’s determined to make the very most of it he can.
And I realize, as he grasps my hip to hold me in place, that I can feel the cool band of his wedding ring against me. This man is my husband. My husband. And that, somehow, sends another shock of desire through me, knowing that I’m letting the man I married take exactly what he wants from me.