The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele

61

Weston

"Not fair," she gasps, craning her neck toward me.

"All's fair in bed." I lower my head and kiss her breast. She moans; the sound travels down my spine and my guts churn. My heart begins to race. I cup her other breast and my fingers tremble.

The ticking of the clock grows louder; my stomach hollows out. Maybe this had not been a good idea. I close my mouth around her nipple and bite down.

She gasps.

My groin hardens.

I drag my mouth down her stomach, to her belly button, flick my tongue in and out of the indentation.

She moans. Her thighs tremble. I grip the curve of her waist, nibble kisses to the apex between her legs. I blow on her pussy and her body bucks, "Weston," she pleads.

The sound of her voice slices through the noise in my head. This time it is about her. Not about what the bastard did to me. Not about how he'd tied the ticking timebomb to my chest and left me. I hook my arms under her knees, pull her legs over my shoulders.

I smooth my hands down her trembling thighs, and cup her pussy, "Mine," I growl, "only mine." I lower my head, swipe my tongue up her lower lips.

She whines.

I curve my tongue around the swollen bud of her clit; she shivers. Slide my hand down to squeeze her arse cheek.

Her entire body shudders.

I slide my finger inside her backhole; she bucks.

I insert my tongue inside her channel, ease it in and out of her. Bring my free hand to her clit and pinch it.

"Oh, hell, oh, hell." She digs the heels of her feet into my back, thrusts her pelvis up and into my face. The sweet scent of her tugs at my nostrils, the warmth of her juices coats my tongue. My belly clenches and my dick lengthens as the ticking of the clock counts down in the background.

I need more, more.

"Wes?"

The tick-tock of the clock grows louder. My fingers clench; a bead of sweat slides down my back. I drag my mouth up and to her face and kiss her deeply. She opens her mouth to me, and I thrust my tongue inside. I drink from her, that addicting, honeyed essence of her, mixed with the taste of her cum. My belly trembles, I dig my knees into bed, ease a finger inside her channel and bear down.

"Weston," she screams, "Oh, my God, Wes."

More, I need more.I need her warmth, her happy-go-lucky nature, her sass and fire. I need all of her, subsumed into me. I need her to ground me. I release her lips, then reach up and tear the blindfold from her.

She blinks, then her gaze narrows on me.

"What's wrong?" she asks. "Wes?"

"Nothing." I mumble.

"Something is."

"I need..." I frown.

"Me, take me, Wes." Her chest heaves, "Please, baby, come inside me."

Her blue eyes gaze into mine, the silver sparks in their depths similar to the sapphire I'd bought her... Except she is here, vital, real... Nothing else in my past, or my future, matters. Only her.

I loosen the drawstring on my pants, then grasp my dick, and notch it against her wet opening.

"Amelie." I brush my lips over hers. "I love you," I say. "I love it when you smile at me. I love it even more when I am the reason for your smile."

Those sappy words? Yep, that's me. Alphahole extraordinaire felled by a woman who is the sassiest, brightest, most special woman I have ever met.

"Oh, Wes," she sighs, "I love you too."

I slide inside her; she trembles. I stay there, allowing her to adjust to my size. I ease my tongue inside her mouth, tangle my tongue with hers, bring my other hand up to untie her bindings. She wraps her arms about my shoulders, pulls me closer. I prop myself on one elbow to keep my weight off of her. I hold her gaze, keep the connection, as I pull out of her, then thrust back in. Her pussy clenches around me. She digs her fingers into the back of my scalp, tugs on my hair. My cock jerks, thickens, and I begin to fuck her in earnest. In and out of her, as I slide a finger inside her backhole.

She groans and I swallow the sound, continue to kiss her, as I kick my hips forward, impale her to the bed. My balls harden, a pressure building in my groin. I don’t stop. I thrust into her, again and again. She arches her spine, pushes up to meet me. Locks her ankles around me, flattens her breasts against my chest planes, strains against me, consumes me.

The ticking of the clock fades. I tear my mouth from hers, "I'll never get enough of you. Not until every inch of you is married to every inch of me, and not even then. Not until I've broken you completely, and myself. Until every part of you bears the imprint of me, every cell in your body recognizes that you are mine. Mine. Only mine, you get me?"

She nods. "Only yours," she whispers. "Always yours, love you Wes—"

I kick my hips forward and bury myself inside her with such force that the entire bed shakes. The headboard slams into the wall; somewhere something crashes to the floor. The timer rings as I growl, "Come with me, Princess."

Her mouth opens in a silent cry. She holds my gaze as she shatters, as her body trembles under me, as my orgasm takes hold and I come inside of her.

Her chest heaves, sweat beads her upper lip, and I bend down and lick it up. "Yum." I smack my lips. "How the hell do you manage to taste so sweet?"

"How the hell do you manage to turn sex into an orgy each and every time, my love?"

"Hmm." I bump my neck to hers. "Love it when you talk dirty to me, babe."

"Love it when you—" She blinks. "Did you hear that?"

I frown, "What?"

"Did somebody call your name?"

I angle my head, "Don’t hear anything."

I reach down to kiss her again, when, "Weston, where the fuck are you, arsehole?" Damian's voice reaches me from the direction of the doorway.

I groan, "The fuck?"

She giggles, "Looks like your friends decided to pay you a visit on Christmas day?"

"Something I can do without." I grouse.

"Weston... Hey...oops. Sorry, man," Damian apologizes.

I turn, glare at where Damian stands in the doorway, face averted.

"I didn't see anything. I promise."

"Fuck off," I growl.

"A bit too late, old chap."

"Where the fuck is the wanker?" Another voice—Arpad's calls out.

"If he thinks he can spend Christmas on his own, he's got another think coming. What's he up to— Oh hell, did we interrupt something?" Is that Edward?

I grab a pillow, throw it in the direction of the doorway. "Back the fuck off, you tossers."

"Sorry."

"Didn't mean any harm."

"You ah—finish what you started.. We'll be at your bar."

The voices fade.

"Close the fucking door behind you," I call out.

The door slams shut.

This is what happens when your friends have unrestricted access to your apartment, something I intend to rectify at the first opportunity. I draw in a breath, glance down at my fiancée, "Where were we, babe?"

"We need to get out there." She stabs a finger in my chest.

I lower my head to hers, "In good time."