Chapter Twenty-Four
Jennifer
The look on Fletcher's face matches the feral growls that spill from his lips, and they make me so damn horny.
But when Fletcher reaches for the zipper of my dress, his fingers fumble with the delicate fabric.
I can feel his restraint cracking, the careful control he's maintained all day finally giving way to raw need.
"You have no idea what you've done to me, Jennifer. Standing there in that wedding dress, looking like an angel. But the beast in me needs to fuck you right now."
"Oh yes, I want that too. My cream is already dribbling down my thighs." As I help him with his zipper, the whisper of fabric against skin is the only sound in our honeymoon suite. The dress pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my shoes.
Fletcher's eyes darken as he drinks me in. "Christ, Jennifer. You're an angel with a dirty mind, and I love that."
With his hands, he maps every curve and hollow of my body, like he's memorizing me all over again.
When his mouth follows the path his fingers traced, I arch beneath him.
I can't help myself from moaning and even whimpering, especially when I glance down to see his dick fully erect with a drop of moisture poised on the head.
Only Fletcher could reduce me to a puddle of molten lust. Every touch of his lips against my skin sets off a cascade of heated shivers.
His hands are everywhere at once, reverent but hungry.
"I need you inside me," I gasp, tugging at his suit jacket. "Too many clothes."
Fletcher grins wickedly, shrugging off his jacket before loosening his tie with tantalizing slowness. I reach for his buttons, impatient to have him inside me, but he catches my wrists. "Let me take it slow, pet. I want to savor this moment."
"We have our whole lives for savoring. Make me scream now."
He unbuttons his shirt slowly, deliberately, one button at a time without ever breaking eye contact.
It's the most erotic striptease I've ever witnessed, and I'm virtually quivering with need.
When he finally stands before me in nothing but his boxer briefs, I can't speak because my chest is heaving.
With my fingertips, I trace the hard planes of his chest and the defined muscles of his abdomen.
The strength in his body never fails to thrill me.
"You're still wearing too much," Fletcher growls. "Get rid of the shoes."
I reach for him, but he has other ideas. Fletcher drops to his knees before me, placing wet kisses along my stomach and coiling his tongue inside my navel. His delicate licks drive me half out of my mind.
"Steady, love," he purrs.
"Fletcher, please," I gasp. "Oh God, please use your tongue on my clit and make me come."
He settles between my thighs. "My pleasure, Mrs. Murgatroyd."
The first touch of his tongue against my most sensitive region makes me cry out. I push my hands into his hair, holding him to me. He's merciless in the best way, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes that have me trembling within seconds.
"Yes, Fletcher, don't stop."
He grips my thighs with both hands, anchoring me as I begin to unravel from the sheer ecstasy. Every nerve ending is on fire, every touch magnified by the intimacy of our wedding night.
"Come for me, love," he murmurs against my skin. "Let me watch you melt for me."
"Yes, please, yes." I can see his dick has grown swollen and stiff, the head glistening with pre-cum, yet he still takes his time with me. But I can't stand the suspense anymore. "Push me over the edge, Fletcher. Can't stand the delicious torment anymore. My heart's beating so fast I..."
"No worries, love." He waddles closer until his face lies directly over my groin.
I grip his shoulders as he positions himself perfectly. The anticipation is almost unbearable---every cell in my body crying out for release. When his tongue finally makes contact with my swollen clit, I arch and nearly fall backward onto the bed. His strong hands anchor me.
"Fletcher!" His name is torn from my throat. "I'm about to---"
I can't speak anymore, can barely breathe.
My husband begins to scrape his tongue over my nub, devouring me as if my cream is the only sustenance he needs.
I tangle my fingers in his dark hair, holding him against me as waves of pleasure build higher and higher.
The man knows exactly how to drive me wild.
The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my body bowing forward as pleasure rockets through me so powerfully that I lose my breath.
My fingers are knotted in his silky locks.
Fletcher doesn't stop until I'm gasping, ruined by the devastating climax. Only then does he rise, his lips glistening, eyes dark with satisfaction and his own voracious need.
"My turn," I breathe, waving for him to back away. "Need more room for what I'm going to do to you. Been staring at your dick, and that bead of moisture on the head, since I first noticed it. Now I get to make you unravel---with my tongue."
But he shakes his head. "If you do that, I'll blow apart the instant your tongue touches the head of my cock."
"Don't worry. I won't let you explode until you're inside me." I move closer and kneel before his glorious dick. It waves in my face, and I can't resist licking my lips. "Now, for the pièce de résistance."
His chest is heaving now, mine had done a moment ago. Jennifer..."
I clasp his dick, leaning forward until my lips are only a few millimeters from his flesh.
With the first lick, I have him hissing in a sharp breath.
Then I coil my tongue around his flesh, again and again, while his eyes roll back in his head.
His breaths have mutated into sharp, animalistic sounds.
Just when he seems about to erupt, I pull away.
Fletcher grits his teeth. "You can't leave me like this, you vixen."
Grinning, I flop onto the bed backwards. "So come and get me."
He takes a flying leap, landing on the mattress on all fours.
Laughter bubbles out of me. "That was impressive. I never realized you're an acrobat."
"Only for you." He winks. "And only in the bedroom."
I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him closer. "Take me, Fletcher. Make me yours and brand me with that gorgeous dick."
Fletcher plunges inside me with one smooth thrust, then he begins pounding into me with his cock, driving himself as deep inside me as possible, so deep in fact, that I swear I can feel his dick hitting the innermost wall of my channel.
The intensity of the pleasure makes me quiver and beg for release.
The bed creaks and thumps, but for once, he can fuck me wildly and unleash all his hunger for me no matter how much I scream.
This is the most mind-blowing sexual experience of my life, and I never want it to stop.
But the tension in Fletcher's face tells me he needs to let go. He throws his head back and shouts as he explodes inside me, his release flooding through me while I shatter beneath him too. Our cries mingle through our honeymoon suite, and our bodies both tremble from the power of our lovemaking.
At last, we collapse together. The delicious weight of him settles on top of me, and I can't stop touching him. I trace patterns on his sweat-slicked back with my fingertips.
This man is my husband. Mine. And unlike Claudia, I will never run away from Fletcher.
"I love you so much," I whisper against his neck.
He rolls onto his side again, tugging me with him so we're face to face, our legs still tangled. His gaze is softer now, the wild hunger replaced by tenderness.
"I adore you too, darling." He says my new name like it's precious---almost sacred. But then he smiles with wry humor. "You're saddled with my surname now. Sure you don't want to keep your maiden name?"
"Positive. I've waited a long time to meet my soulmate. Don't care how big a mouthful that surname is." I push up onto my elbow so I can look at the face of my beautiful husband. "Tomorrow, we go home and get back to normal life."
"Then we'd better fuck all night long, eh?"
I salute. "Yes, sir, we'd better."
We make love until after midnight, reveling in the freedom to do whatever we want, whenever we want---at least for one night.
In the morning, we enjoy a sumptuous breakfast in the hotel's elegant dining room.
The perfectly prepared eggs Benedict should make kick my appetite into high gear.
But Fletcher keeps giving me smoldering looks across the table that distract me.
"Stop that," I hiss, my cheeks growing warm as he deliberately licks honey from his spoon in in an almost obscene manner.
He lifts one brow. "Stop what, Mrs. Murgatroyd?"
I love how he keeps using my new name like he's testing how it sounds. "You know exactly what you're doing." I shift in my chair, still deliciously sore from our marathon night of lovemaking. "We have to drive home and face the children in an hour."
"Plenty of time for one more---"
"No, no, no." I wag a finger at my husband, cutting him off before he can finish that thought. "We'll be late, and Henry will have convinced himself we've been kidnapped by pirates."
Fletcher chuckles, reaching across the table to clasp my hand. "Fair point. Though I quite like the idea of being kidnapped by you for another few hours."
"Behave yourself," I say, though I'm grinning as I squeeze his fingers. "Besides, I'm actually excited to get home and tell everyone about our perfect honeymoon night."
"Are you now?" His eyebrow arches. "And exactly how much detail are you planning to share with my children?"
I nearly choke on my orange juice. "Fletcher Ralph Murgatroyd! I meant telling them we had a wonderful time, not---" I lower my voice to a whisper. "Not about how you made me scream your name three times."
His grin turns sinfully hot. "Only three times? I was counting four, but maybe I lost track during that bit where you---"
"Shush, Fletcher," I hiss, though my body's already reacting to his teasing. "We need to be responsible adults, remember?"
"Responsible adults who just happen to be madly in love."
"And who have four children waiting for them at home." I narrow my gaze and pucker my lips, trying to sound forceful, but I fail. The smile spreading across my face doesn't help matters. "Save that look for tonight, after the kids are asleep."
He sighs dramatically, but the smile playing at the corners of his lips gives him away. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that promise."
After breakfast, we pack our overnight bags and head to the car.
The drive home is filled with comfortable silence and occasional bursts of conversation about what awaits us.
Four very excited children, that's for sure.
I hope the grandparents weren't totally wiped out.
The moment our car pulls up in the driveway, all the kids pour out of the house to attack us with joyful hugs.
This is my life these days---and I love it.