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Part 6
Ben’s breath was still coming in ragged gasps, his body limp, a testament to her skill. Dawn lay beside him, her head propped on her hand, tracing the lines of his abdomen with a single, slick finger.
“You are so perfect for me,” she murmured, her voice a low hum in the quiet room. The scent of their actions hung heavy in the air.
He turned his head on the pillow, his deep eyes clouded with exhaustion and adoration. “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
A slow, predatory smile touched her lips. Oh, I know. “Then I have one more thing I want tonight. Are you up for some fun?”
“Anything,” he said. She wasn’t sure he’d be as enthusiastic once she spelled it out.
She leaned closer, her breast brushing against his arm, and whispered her request into his ear, her tone soft and conspiratorial. “I want you to pretend the champagne and the stress were too much. That you drank yourself into a stupor and passed out right here, unable to… perform on your wedding night.”
Ben’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion and fresh pain in his gaze. “Dawn… pretend? Who would I pretend to? Why?”
“Because it’s his ultimate fantasy,” she breathed, her lips grazing his cheek. “Sam is still in the hotel. He thinks he took something that was yours. I want him to believe he’s getting even more. That he’s the one I turn to when my new husband… fails me.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper, laced with excitement. “He took my virginity, and has been riding that high ever since. And you know we‘ve been reliving that memory many many times as well. You love hearing about it, you know that. And now, we have a chance to do it again! He’ll be the first to have me as a married woman. Don’t you see how delicious that is? How perfect? Can you imagine how we’ll be relishing this memory until we’re in our 90s in a nursing home,” she smiled. “And can you imagine how insufferable he’ll become? Think of how much fun it’ll be every time you see him at family functions.”
A muscle ticked in Ben’s jaw. He looked away, toward the window and the city lights beyond their hotel. She could see the conflict raging within him, on the one hand, even if they can’t have sex, there’s a lot they can do. And he wants to spend the first night as a married man being intimate with his wife. On the other hand… He really wanted to give this to her. And he had to admit she was right. Giving up on one night of intimate touching for a lifetime of shared fantasies was a good deal. Not to mention his desperate need to prove his devotion. She knew what he’d choose, but she loved watching him agonizing over it nonetheless.
Finally, he let out a long, shuddering sigh of acceptance. He nodded once, a sharp, jerky motion. Without another word, he rolled onto his side, turning his back to her, and curled into himself, the very picture of a disappointing man defeated by drink. His shoulders were tense, but he was playing his part. For her.
Her heart beat a frantic, eager rhythm. She pressed a kiss to his rigid shoulder blade.
She slid out of bed, her body still humming from Ben’s climax and the anticipation of what was to come. She didn’t bother with clothes. Let Sam see exactly what he was being offered. She found her phone and sent a single text.
Come back. Now. Room 1207. I need you.
The wait was agonizing, each minute feeling like eternity. Also, she got cold. Maybe she should have put the dress back on. But it was too late now. She stood in the center of the room, the expensive carpet soft under her bare feet, the cool air raising goosebumps on her naked skin. She heard the faint ping of the elevator down the hall, then firm, confident footsteps approaching. A message on her phone – I’m here.
She opened the door. Sam stood there, still in his dress shirt from the reception, though he’d loosened his tie. His predatory gaze swept over her naked body, his eyes darkening with instant, raw hunger. He stepped inside without invitation, his presence immediately dominating the spacious suite.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice a low whisper. His eyes flickered toward the bed, toward Ben’s still, silent form.
Dawn wrapped her arms around herself, a calculated gesture of vulnerability. “He… he had too much to drink. Couldn’t… you know. He just fell asleep, drunk. I tried waking him, but he’s too far gone.” She let a tremor enter her voice. “My wedding night, and I’m alone.” She tried to play it up. To sound like she was on the verge of crying.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across Sam’s face. The thrill of the forbidden, of the conquest, ignited in his eyes. He reached out, a calloused, strong hand cupping her cheek. “His loss is my gain.”
He pulled her to him, his mouth meeting hers. This kiss wasn’t like Ben’s tender adoration; it was all possession and fire. He tasted of whiskey and arrogance. His hands roamed her body, gripping her hips, squeezing her rear, claiming every inch of her. She melted into him, a moan catching in her throat. This. This was what she craved. The intensity, the wrongness of it, all while her husband lay a few feet away.
He broke the kiss, his breathing harsh. “Turn around,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire. “Let me see my bride.”
The word sent a jolt through her. My bride. He thought he was stealing her. The deception was an aphrodisiac.
She obeyed, turning to face the bed, bracing her hands on the footboard. She heard the rustle of his clothes, the clink of his belt. Then he was behind her, his heat surrounding her. His hands slid up her thighs, spreading them apart. One hand tangled in her hair, not roughly, but with a firm possessiveness that made her whimper. The other guided himself to her entrance.
“You come to me on your wedding night,” he growled in her ear, his hips pressing forward. “You belong to me tonight.” God, he was still as cringe as ever. But just knowing how this moment will live in his head until the day he dies made it all worthwhile.
With a single, powerful thrust, he was inside her. Dawn gasped, her knuckles turning white on the polished wood. He was claiming her with a raw, physical insistence that Ben had never been allowed to. He set a relentless, punishing pace from the start, each deep plunge a statement. His grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head back, arching her spine as he drove into her.
“Yes,” she hissed, the word torn from her. “Yes.“
She could feel Ben’s presence in front of her, behind the footboard. She imagined his eyes were open, that he was watching her jolt with every one of Sam’s thrusts, listening to the wet, rhythmic sounds. She knew he couldn’t actually see anything – the fancy bed with the oversized footboard blocked his line of sight – but the thought, the sheer taboo of it, sent another wave of heat crashing through her. She was stretched between two men, one buried deep inside her body, the other buried deep in her soul.
Sam’s free hand snaked around her hip, grabbing her chest, his palm cupping and squeezing. Pleasure began to build at her core, a pressure threatening to break.
“You feel that?” he grunted, his breath hot on her neck. “That’s me. Not him. Me. You’ll remember who made you come on your wedding night.”
His words, his touch, the visceral reality of his possession – it was too much. Her climax ripped through her with a violence that stole her breath, a silent scream on her lips as her body clenched around him, wave after wave of intense pleasure blinding her to everything but the feeling of him pounding into her through the convulsions.
Feeling her tighten around him, Sam lost his controlled rhythm. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, his own release crashing over him. She felt the pulse of him deep inside, the final, shuddering claim.
He stayed there for a long moment, slumped over her back, both of them breathing heavily. Slowly, he pulled out. Dawn rested her forehead against the cool wood of the footboard, spent.
A tiny sound came from the bed. A choked, muffled gasp.
Sam froze, his head snapping up. “What was that?”
Dawn’s heart leaped into her throat. She raised her head, looking over the footboard at Ben’s still form. Don’t move. Please, don’t move.
Almost as if he could hear her pleas, Ben remained perfectly still, and Sam hurried out thinking Ben was about to wake up.
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