33. Shelby
SHELBY
Iwon’t say I’ve never been horny before. Of course I have been. I’m a thirty-six year old woman with a decent sexual appetite that’s—until recent events—only ever been satisfied by mediocre men.
But the way that I want my husband right now? I don’t know if the word “horny” does it enough justice.
Feral is more like it. Ravenous. Aching. Like if I don’t have his dick in one of my holes in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to physically combust.
“Easy,” Beau whispers in my ear as we take the elevator up to our room. “We’ll be there soon.”
I let out a groan that definitely catches the attention of the other couple sharing the elevator with us. Apparently, their reaction, along with my clear impatience, is the funniest thing ever to Beau.
“You better watch it,” I whisper, making sure they’re fully turned around before I cup his dick through his tuxedo pants. “Keep laughing and I’ll be taking care of myself tonight.”
“Liar.”
Beau pulls me in tighter to his side, his hand firmly on my ass, but just as I’m letting out a gasp, the door opens to our floor.
“Excuse us,” Beau says, holding my hand as we slip past the other couple. The elevator door is barely shut before he has me pressed against the wall. “You’re a tease, you know that, Belle?”
I shrug coyly as my hands start to undo the buttons of his tuxedo jacket. “I wouldn’t say I’m a tease. I think impatient is the better word.”
If Beau wants to take back control, he doesn’t ask for it. No, he lets me kiss him, hard and deep, right in the hallway, where anyone walking past could see us. But I don’t think either of us care.
“Is your promise from earlier still on the table?”
“Which promise is that?” he asks, his knees becoming weaker as I continue to kiss under his ear. I’ve never been able to do this, but this is the first time I’ve worn stilettos in his presence. Maybe they aren’t all that bad.
“The one where you help me take off this dress? I don’t think I’m going to be able to reach the zipper. And I think you’re going to be a big, big, fan of what I have on underneath.”
I don’t recognize the high-pitched squeal I make as something that would ever leave my mouth, but it’s the only thing that comes out as Beau swoops me into his arms, carrying me bridal style down the hall until we’re standing in front of our room.
“Didn’t think this one through, did you, Big Boy?” I tease, kissing his ear as he tries to grab his wallet while keeping me in his arms. “And if I keep doing this? Is it helping or hurting?”
“Belle…” Beau’s voice is lower and growlier than normal. Part of me thinks I should play nice. Nudge him to put me down so we can get into the hotel room like normal, civilized, not-horny people.
But I’m me. He’s Beau. And clearly we’re none of those things.
Somehow—with strength, flexibility, and a little bit of wizardry I didn’t know he possessed—Beau fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, tapping it to the door and activating the lock so we can enter.
“That was kind of hot.”
“Only kind of?” He lets my legs down, but then firmly presses me against the door. “I’m not a fan of kind of.”
“Oh, but I am,” I say, placing a kiss on his nose. “I’m a big, big, fan.”
Beau leans down, taking my mouth with his in a kiss I can tell he’s been wanting since I pulled him out of the hallway. It’s not rushed, but it’s wanting. Claiming. Reminding me of who I am to him. Who he is to me.
You know, in case I needed reminding.
I don’t. Not now. Not ever again.
I’m Beau’s. He’s mine.
Forever.
“I believe I made you a promise,” he whispers, stepping back and holding his hand out for me as we walk toward the center of the suite. “And I really, really like to keep my promises.”
“One of my favorite things about you,” I say as we stop in the middle of the room.
“One of?” he asks, his smirk on full display. “Care to tell me the others?”
“Well, for starters, how you kiss me.”
As if it was a request, he follows my words, kissing me with even more want and need than he did just seconds ago. His hands are cupping my face, holding me like I might disappear if he lets go.
“What else?” he asks, his breathing heavy. “What else is your favorite?”
Oh…is he going to do everything I say I like? I can have some fun with this…
“I’m a big fan of this,” I say, cupping his rock-hard cock in my hand. “Especially when it’s inside of me.”
“Shelby…” Beau groans as I tease his dick, undoing his belt buckle and button so I can slip my hand inside his boxer briefs. “If you start that, I can’t keep my promise.”
“Yes, you can,” I say, lowering myself to the ground. “I just need a quick taste.”
I pull down his tuxedo pants and boxer briefs, balancing myself on my heels as I take his cock in my hand, stroking it before licking around the tip.
“Fucking Christ, Shelby,” he says, his hands gripping my shoulders since we’re nowhere close to a wall. Or a bed. I help him step out of his pants, because the last thing I need him to do is trip. Talk about a mood killer. “You suck my cock so fucking good.”
I wasn’t lying, I really did just want a taste. Ever since I saw his reaction to me in this dress earlier tonight, all I could think about was looking up at him, my tits pressed up to high heaven, sucking him in and out, making him lose his god damn mind.
And now that I’m here, and have successfully done that, I don’t want to stop. Especially when he praises me like that. How’s a girl not supposed to open her jaw and take his cock all the way into the back of her throat when her husband says things like that?
“Fuck!” Beau hurries out and pulls me away, and I know it’s not because I did anything wrong. Oh no. I just nearly made this man come in five seconds. “Get up here.”
Beau hooks his hands beneath my arms and pulls me up, his mouth slamming into mine as I push his tuxedo jacket off his shoulders, quickly undoing his tie as our mouths move in a frantic unison.
“Undress me, Shelby,” he demands, his mouth moving to my neck, the only thing covering it the diamond necklace. “Strip me bare.”
I know he’s talking about his clothes, but somehow I wonder if there’s a double meaning. Because I know there is for me.
The man has stripped me bare inside, but in the best way. He freed me. He helped me shed the shield I’ve put around myself for years. He’s slowly chipped away every piece of me I thought I needed to keep me safe.
It’s one of the many reasons I love him.
Because yes, I, without a doubt, no question, am absolutely in love with Beau Devereaux.
“You are way too clothed," Beau whispers in my ear as I toss his shirt to the floor. “How about you let me keep that promise from earlier, then you can go back to telling me every favorite thing about me. You know, because you don’t hate me.”
“Yes,” I moan as Beau steps behind me, taking the zipper in his fingers before slowly—ever so slowly—pushing it down my back. I concentrate on his sounds, because I know when he sees the lingerie I’m wearing, he’s going to lose his fucking—
“God damn it, Shelby.”
There it is.
The corset is like nothing I’ve ever put on my body before.
The black lace and barely there mesh is held together by piping that sucks me in so tight, I haven’t been able to breathe since I put it on.
Add to it the black g-string that is so small I don’t know why I bothered, and I knew every second of that discomfort was going to be worth it for this moment.
“If I’d known this was under that dress, we wouldn’t have left the hotel room.”
“I had a feeling,” I say as I watch him trace his hands down my sides, slowly lowering himself to the ground until his face is in line with my getting-wetter-by-the-second pussy.
“Now I want to go back downstairs and kill every single person who looked at you tonight.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” I say, running my hands through his styled hair. “But what I do think is a good idea is if you slide my panties off. I know you want to.”
“I do,” he says, practically begging. “And then I want to lick your pussy while you wear that corset.”
“That can be arranged.”
I revel in the feel of Beau’s fingers as they glide up my legs, hooking each end of the fabric to bring them down, but not before putting a hot, open-mouth, kiss right in my center.
“You’re already wet, Belle,” he murmurs. “And I want it all over my face.”
I didn’t know I could come from words, but I think I just did.
I also don’t know if it’s because of the room, the mood, Beau on his knees, or a combination of everything, but I’m feeling daring. Sexy. I want it all. And I want it all with him.
“That’s another one of my favorite things,” I say. “My husband has such a wicked mouth and a spectacular tongue.”
His fingers press into my thighs, his mouth downright attacking me when he hears those words. I knew Beau unlocked a praise kink in me I didn’t know I had, but did I just learn that he has one too?
Hmm…this could be fun…
“So good,” I say, urging him along. I feel my legs starting to get wobbly, but I don’t want him to stop.
God, I never want him to stop.
I break away for a second, leaving him breathing heavily as I take a few steps toward the edge of the bed.
“Do you want to know another favorite?”
His chest is heaving as a strained “yes” comes out of his mouth.
“How you crawl to me.”
Beau’s eyes go wide before a fire lights in them. “Funny. I don’t remember doing that before?”
I sit down and spread my legs, luring him the best way I know how. “No time like the present, husband. I’m waiting.”
There are many things ridiculously sexy about Beau Devereaux.
The way he always wants to defend me and be by my side.
The beard that is the perfect length against my skin when he kisses me.
How his arms fill out his shirts in the absolute perfect way.
Those slutty little glasses he wears before bed.
How he knows how to light my body on fire every time.
But without a doubt, there is no sexier sight in the history of the world, than Beau Devereaux on his hands and knees, crawling to me on command.
“Good job, Master,” I say as he reaches me. “Now make me come.”
My words are the spark in the lighter, and as soon as Beau’s mouth is on me, it’s the lighter fluid that makes me explode.
He roughly thrusts two fingers inside, filling me up perfectly as his mouth descends on me.
My hands are in his hair, pulling him closer, even though I’m sure he physically can’t be.
But I need more. I need a release. Just one.
And then I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of my husband.
“Ah!”
I’m confident my scream can be heard downstairs in the gala. For sure by whoever is next door. Ask me if I care.
Answer: I don’t. I’m too busy physically shaking.
And I don’t have time to worry about it anyway. Because before I can get my bearings, Beau has me flipped over on the bed, his legs straddling either side of me.
“As much as I want to fuck you with this on, I need it off. I need to see all of you.”
I don’t argue. I can’t. Between the orgasm and feeling how hard Beau is on top of me as he painstakingly unlatches every hook and eye my makeup artist had to help me secure today, I can’t concentrate on anything else.
“Up,” he says, wrapping his arm around my front and lifting me just high enough to discard the corset before bringing my back to his front, his cock toying just at my entrance.
“I crawled for you, Shelby Lynn,” he says, nibbling my ear just to the point of pain. “I’ve punched men for you. I’ll start a fucking war for you. But I have to know one thing, right now.”
“Anything,” I whisper, desperate for him to be inside me.
“Say you’re mine, Shelby.” His hands come around my front, squeezing my tits as if to claim them. “I need you to say the words.”
“Yours,” I murmur out. “I love you, Beau.”
Is the middle of the hottest night of my life the best time to tell my husband I love him for the first time? Probably not.
Or…maybe it is.
Because before I can rewind time and take back those three words, Beau has me turned over, and he’s kissing me harder than he ever has before. Which is saying something.
“Say it again,” he says, his mouth now moving to my breasts.
“I…I love you.”
The hesitation isn’t because of the phrase. I’m just having trouble concentrating on words and syllables when Beau’s mouth is somehow everywhere on me.
“Shelby, you have no idea…” he trails off, lifting me up, and placing me on his lap, my legs circling around him. “I love you…so fucking much.”
Our lips come together as he enters me, our arms wrapped around each other so there’s not a centimeter of space between us. I’m moving up and down on him, needing to feel every inch of him as our lips seal the words we just said.
Love.
Mine.
Yours.
And the one word that neither of us has said, but I can feel with everything in me—forever.