I TOOK ONE last look in the mirror and smiled approvingly. My long hair was curled at the ends, allowing it to flow freely down my back, and I’d done my best to replicate the makeup from the day before adding a bit of blue to highlight my gray eyes and complement the dress. It was the dress Stewart had mentioned and was the color of cobalt, with a flowing skirt and a halter bodice that accentuated my breasts. With the open back, I couldn’t have worn a bra if I’d wanted, and thankfully, the skirt was lined and showed no hint of my lack of panties.
When I stepped into the foyer, Stewart’s appreciative gaze gave me the strength to continue.
“My darling, you’re stunning.” He leaned near my ear and whispered, “And I hope you’ve followed my instructions.”
Maintaining my need for a semblance of control, I stared into the depth of his eyes and replied, “Yes, Mr. Harrington, to the T.”
He nuzzled my neck. “Then, for good girls, I have a surprise.”
Unknowingly, my eyes drifted to his slacks. His deep laughter filled the entryway. “Yes, I have that surprise, but I believe I’m waiting for someone to ask.”
I fought the reddening in my cheeks. I hadn’t meant to look, but once I did, I recognized how truly close I was to asking.
“Tonight,” he continued, “I have another surprise, before we make our dinner reservations.”
Stewart helped me to the car, where Travis was waiting. As we approached, his driver scanned me up and down, almost as if he knew I was nude beneath my dress. My mind told me it was absurd, nothing more than a combination of paranoia and my overactive imagination.
A little time later, the car came to a stop in front of a well-known, exclusive jewelry store in downtown Miami. The sign near the entrance indicated that the store was closed. Undaunted, Travis opened the car door, and Stewart helped me out. Before I could question his motives, the door to the store opened and a slight gentleman in a very nice suit came our way.
“Mr. Harrington, welcome! And Miss Conway.” He bowed respectively. “I was exceptionally pleased to receive your call. Please, if the two of you will follow me.”
I looked around the interior. Though it was closed for business, the cases were lit and members of the staff stood at the ready awaiting their directions.
“Would you like to peruse our cases, or would you prefer to see the private collection?”
Stewart didn’t hesitate. “Alfred, the private collection. I don’t want my wife wearing a ring that just anyone could purchase.”
A ring? I tried to keep the look of shock from my face. Of course, I’d have a ring. I was getting married.
We followed Alfred into a regal private office, complete with a large desk. Stewart and I sat on one side, as the jeweler settled on the other. Before he could begin, a woman entered, carrying a tray bearing crystal fluted glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “Excuse me. May I pour you each a drink, something to celebrate this monumental occasion?”
I looked toward Stewart. I wasn’t old enough to drink, not legally.
“Thank you,” Stewart said with a nod.
I waited, wondering what would happen when they asked me for identification. However, they never asked. Instead, Alfred began, “Mr. Harrington, from our brief conversation, I believe I’ve selected the finest gems our company has to offer. I must tell you, one of these rings was already promised to another client, but for you, I’ve postponed our meeting.”
Stewart’s lips formed a straight line. “I assure you, Alfred, you don’t need to apply high-pressure sales tactics or I’ll willingly take my business elsewhere. If my fiancée likes what she sees, we’ll buy it. It’s that simple.”
“Of course,” he muttered, as he pulled a black velvet case from a drawer. Fixing his eyes on me, he said, “We can have any one of these rings sized for you by tomorrow. Please concentrate only on the unique settings, quality, and flawless stones.”
My heart fluttered as he opened the case. There were only four rings, each with a stunning center diamond. The one that caught my eye had a beautiful emerald-cut yellow diamond.
Stewart looked at me. “What do you think?
“I-I think they’re astounding.” I looked from the case to my fiancé. “Do you truly not want more information before I choose?” Like maybe the price?
“Alfred, are any of these rings doubles? I emphasize the need for an original.”
The jeweler’s eyes opened wide. “No, sir. Each creation in this collection has been made by one of our world-renowned designers. Each one is as unique as the love the two of you share.”
So they’re all fakes? I couldn’t help but think; however, before I could turn toward Stewart, he squeezed my hand. A not-so-subtle reminder that this was another step in convincing the world we were real.
“Alfred,” I said, “I think the yellow diamond is beautiful.”
The jeweler’s grin grew. “Miss Conway, you have wonderful taste. The center stone is a flawless 4.7-carat yellow diamond, surrounded by another 15 carats of white diamonds. This is the ring that I mentioned. I say that,” he clarified, “because it has already been sized, but it too can be readjusted.”
He removed the ring and handed it to Stewart. After a brief inspection, Stewart asked, “Would you like to see if it fits?”
It was the closest thing to a proposal I’d hear.
“Yes, thank you,” I said, extending my left hand. Slipping snuggly over my knuckle, it was as if it had been made for me. “It fits. I love it.”
Stewart turned back to the owner. “Do you have the matching band?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Harrington.”
When he handed the diamond-embedded band to Stewart, he also handed him a note that I assumed contained the pricing information. Stewart barely looked at the paper, placed it on the counter and extended the band in my direction. “Do you like this, too?”
“Miss Conway,” Alfred informed me, “the band has another 16 carats of white diamonds.”
I didn’t respond to Alfred as I positioned the two rings together and secured them both on my fourth finger. The sparkling band fit perfectly, accentuating the large yellow diamond. Looking up to Stewart’s watchful gaze, I smiled. “I do.”
Stewart extended his hand to the jeweler. “Thank you, Alfred. We appear to have made our decision.”
I handed both rings back to Alfred who placed them into a velvet-lined box and handed the box to Stewart. “Thank you, Mr. Harrington…” He nodded and reached for my hand, lowered his lips to the top and said, “…and Miss Conway, we’re honored that you came by our humble establishment.”
Once in the car, Stewart removed the velvet box from his jacket and extracted the large yellow diamond engagement ring. “Miss Conway.” His blue eyes softened. “Tori, in two more days this agreement will be irrevocably sealed. Thus far, I’m not disappointed. Allow me to place this ring on your finger as an outward sign of our mutual arrangement.”
Was I expecting a declaration of love and devotion? What we were doing was an agreement—a contract—and the sooner I accepted that the better. I squared my shoulders, steeled my gray eyes, and extended my left hand. “I signed the contract, and I accept your ring.”
His brows lifted. “You may want to work on your enthusiasm, my darling. In a few minutes we’ll be on the rooftop of the Beach Club, which I’m sure you recognize as one of the most exclusive private clubs in Miami. I anticipate seeing many associates, perhaps even some of your esteemed stepfather’s colleagues. While some of this is for show…” He leaned closer. “…because I am so looking forward to showing you off—as I’m sure you’re keenly aware—there’s more than an element of attraction. As I’m introducing you this evening, I want you to remember what I plan to do with you tonight.” His lips parted slightly and brushed my suddenly blushed cheek. “As I take a drink of my wine, I want you to know, I’m imagining drinking you.” He nuzzled my neck. “As I’m inhaling the aroma of our perfectly prepared meal, I’ll be anticipating your sweet scent. When the food hits my tongue, I’ll be thinking about my tongue inside of you, with your sexy legs wrapped around my face.”
Oh my God! I knew I was getting wet just listening to him.
“Tonight,” he went on, “when I have you back at my penthouse, I’ll be doing what every man whom you meet will want to do, what they will envision doing, what they will be doing with their wives but imagining my fiancée. You, my Tori, are stunning.” His hand found the hem of my dress and moved under the soft material toward my thighs. “Tonight and every night I’ll be the envy of every other man. You’ll be starring in their wet dreams while you star in my every fantasy.” His fingers inched upward. In a mere inch or two he’d learn for certain that I followed his instructions. “Spread your legs for me, Tori.”
The car we were riding in wasn’t a limousine. There was no partition between the two of us and Travis, no sound barrier. My eyes darted to the rearview mirror. With the setting sun, Stewart’s driver wore sunglasses. The dark lenses covered his eyes and his expression, keeping the focus of his attention hidden.
“Tori,” Stewart’s tone was more demanding. “Don’t make me ask you twice. Spread those beautiful thighs. Give me an appetizer, a promise of what’s waiting for me.”
His words shouldn’t have been turning me on, but they did. I knew with a shift of my legs he’d find the wetness he sought. Once again, he’d gotten me totally aroused with only his words. “Oh, Stewart…”
“Shush, Tori, moan into me.”
I shifted my legs farther apart, as his lips covered mine. It was our first kiss, the first time his tongue danced with mine. Yet that was not what had my attention; my entire body ignited as his fingers plunged between my swollen folds. I widened my thighs more to give him better access. Within seconds, the world disappeared and all that mattered was his touch and his kiss. When he found my clit, I did as he’d said: I moaned.
Our sounds intermingled as he removed his hand with an approving hiss, and cooed near my ear, “Yes, so wet, always so wet.”
Oh my God! I wanted more. I wanted my mountain. As he brought his fingers to his mouth my cheeks blushed.
He spread my arousal on his lips and licked. “Just a taste of sweetness.” His eyes shimmered. “Later, I’ll dine.”
What was happening to me? He was making me want things I’d never even considered.
My knees wobbled as Stewart led me from the car into the Beach Club. Then, as if nothing had just happened, he greeted the maître d’ and led me toward the private elevator. Once alone inside the elevator, he brushed his nose against my neck and whispered. “Nothing here will taste as good as you. My darling, I hope you don’t mind if we skip dessert.”
I’D NEVER BEEN so busy and yet done so little. What Lisa didn’t do for me, she had someone else who could. The next two days flew by in a flurry of rush and wait. The days were monopolized by fittings, primping, and beautification. My long, dark tresses were highlighted, not in shades of blonde as I’d imagined, but tints of chestnut and lowlights of mahogany. When sunlight hit my hair, the various shades came alive in a truly surprising array of color. My skin was moisturized, waxed, hydrated, and massaged. Cosmetologists spent hours applying and teaching me to apply just the right amount of makeup. With the guidance of Zhen, a cosmetologist, I became an expert at creating the most dramatic eyes.
The wedding dress that Lisa had chosen—yes, she said that she argued with Stewart and won, not allowing him to see it until the wedding—was stunning. Before my first fitting, it was close to my size. By Wednesday afternoon, it fit like a glove. The flowing chiffon and fitted bodice worked together to create the perfect look for a destination beach wedding.
I’d also learned a little more about my fiancé. Though his homes were in Miami, his hotels were all over the world, and thus he spent quite a bit of time traveling. He said there would be times he would travel alone but probably more times he’d want me to accompany him. Though he never truly demanded, the way he asked, the way he inquired, left me little room for debate.
Beginning Monday night at the Beach Club, I was introduced to his friends and associates. Never once did he hint that our union was anything other than what it appeared. We were the topic of conversation, not only in Miami, but also around the country. Even the television gossip programs talked at length about the unlikely pairing. Of course, pictures with my engagement ring went viral. News of the wedding had yet to hit the press, but Stewart had no doubt it would be front-page news by Friday morning. That was why he’d decided upon a Thursday evening wedding. Our nuptials would hit the wire before the weekend, making an impact before being lost in the end of the week drivel.
Though I’d kept my word and hadn’t begged for his cock, it was becoming increasingly difficult. Since Sunday night, I’d reached higher heights with Stewart than I knew existed. He’d gone down on me multiple times. It was everything he offered with his fingers and more. I didn’t fight to journey to the top of the mountain, because falling off was my reward for the hard-felt expedition. When his tongue and fingers worked together, no matter how hard my hips bucked or my thighs squeezed, I was helpless against the precipice that exploded and sent me falling, not in one piece, but in a million shards to a cushion of sedation. Though he liked to watch as I began the journey on my own, not once had I seen what lay beneath his slacks. Each time I reached for his hidden erection my curiosity grew, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I did as he’d predicted and begged. My goal was to make it to our wedding.
The night before our departure for Belize, Stewart came home from his office earlier than usual. Lisa was out and I was sitting by the pool with Susan, completing the final arrangements on another order of clothing. This one was a special selection of designer casual dresses, ones that Lisa proclaimed were a necessity for my everyday activities.
Stewart’s booming voice echoed across the rooftop pool as we both looked up to see him approach. Though he wore his custom suit and his blonde hair fell perfectly styled over his brow, the expression he wore was unlike one I’d ever seen. “Where the fuck is your phone?”
Susan’s eyes widened as I looked around the table, moving magazines and sketches, I replied, “I-I don’t know. In my room?”
Eyeing Susan, Stewart’s demeanor shifted. “Ms. Jennings, I believe your services are no longer required today. Please contact my wife after we arrive home from our honeymoon.”
“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” she replied, standing and collecting her material from the table.
“Victoria, come to my office, now.” With that, he was gone from the pool deck in a cloud of regal perfection and fury.
“Miss?” Susan inquired once we were alone, her eyes peeking questionably toward mine.
I wanted to assure her that everything was fine, yet I didn’t know. Nevertheless, I smiled and nodded encouragingly: perhaps in an attempt to reassure myself. “Thank you, Susan. I’ll see you in a week. Do you need me to see you out?”
She forced a smile. “No. If you have any last-minute concerns over this order, you have my number.”
“I’m pretty sure the order is just fine,” I replied.
I’d faced my parents’ wrath on more occasions than I could count; I could face Stewart’s. In some ways he’d been kinder to me than they ever had. Whatever was upsetting him, I believed I could handle. That, however, didn’t lessen the anxiety that grew with each step as I made my way toward his office. When I entered, I asked, “Stewart, what—”
He reeled at the sound of my voice. “Did you find your goddamn phone?”
“No.” My neck straightened. Though his clenched jaw and darkened expression filled me with dread, I was about to be his wife, and I didn’t appreciate his tone. “I came to your goddamn office. That’s what you said.”
He paced behind his desk. “I’ve been trying to reach you. What’s the fucking purpose of having a damn phone if you’re not going to have it near?”
“Stewart,” I slowed my rebuttal. “What happened? Why have you been trying to reach me?”
“I tried the apartment phone. I couldn’t even fucking reach anyone here. I finally got through to Ms. Madison, but as you know she is out and couldn’t reach you either.”
“You’re here now. What is it?”
His expression of anger morphed into one of uncertainty. “I paid the fucking money. I did it. Travis delivered it on Monday.”
What money? My mind spun: so much had happened in such a short time.
“Victoria, your stepfather’s in the hospital.”
My knees gave way to a wave of nausea. That money. I hadn’t called Randall or my mother. I’d been too caught up and busy, and to be honest, I liked the idea of making them sweat. “Hospital? What happened?”
“I don’t know. Get your purse. We’re heading over to Memorial.”
Blankly, I nodded, trying with all my might to hide the fear rippling through me. Oh my God. If he died, it would be another death on me.
On the way to Memorial, I checked my messages. There were multiple text messages and voicemails from Stewart, some from Val, and one voicemail from my mother. I listened, not putting it on speakerphone.
“Why? Why Victoria? Do you hate us this much? Randall’s at Memorial Hospital.”
I looked to Stewart. “My mother’s message doesn’t tell us anymore than you already know. She only said he’s at the hospital.”
He reached for my hand and held it as we walked through the corridors on our way to ICU. I spotted Val first. We hadn’t seen one another since Sunday afternoon. Until our eyes met, I hadn’t realized how much I had missed her: three days were suddenly a lifetime. Her puffy eyes met mine.
As soon as they did, our mother’s gaze followed Val’s, and Marilyn stood. Years of being a judgmental bitch came into practice. It took her only a second to scan me: my new clothes, hair, and engagement ring. Almost instantly, her neck straightened. I held tightly to Stewart’s hand, knowing without a doubt that he was the only thing keeping her from telling me exactly what she thought.
With more decorum than I knew she possessed, she took a step toward us. “Mr. Harrington, please allow me to speak to my daughter in private.”
He looked possessively in my direction. I didn’t want to let go of his hand, but I knew I should. Before I spoke, Stewart did. “Mrs. Sound, how is your husband?”
“He’s in critical condition. There isn’t anything they can do, but wait.”
“Mother?” I asked, “What happened?”
“It was a heart attack. The doctors believe it was brought on by stress.” Her last sentence dripped with accusation. Nevertheless, my lungs took in a much-needed breath as the tension left Stewart’s grip. It hadn’t been an accident. Nodding to Stewart, I let go of his hand and walked toward my mother. Abruptly, she turned and led me to a small family-consultation room. Once we were alone, she turned, striking like a viper.
“Are you happy? Is this what you wanted? Look at you, dressed like damn arm candy, with that giant rock on your finger. Do you think Randall told Mr. Harrington about you so you could reap the benefits and leave us out to dry? Where’s your sense of loyalty after all that Randall has done for you? You and your selfish ways did this! You can’t stand to see me happy, can you? You have to ruin every relationship I’ve ever had.”
Though her icy tone dripped with hatred and accusation, I tried for more information on Randall. “What’s his prognosis?”
“Do you even care?”
The fire in my veins melted the ice she sent my way. “Do I even care?”
“Maybe I should warn Mr. Harrington,” Mother said, her volume low and threatening. “I should warn him what a deadly bitch he’s dressing up for his arm. Everyone you touch dies: everyone who’s naïve enough to get close. Even his money won’t protect him from you.”
“Are you listening to yourself? You fucking sold me without so much as a warning or regret.”
“I should have known it would take something of more value to help us.”
I clenched my jaw and willed my tears to stay at bay. Beyond the glass panel of the closed door I spotted Stewart. He was standing in the perfect place, leaning against a wall, and looking directly at me. His presence gave me strength. I lowered my tone. “Randall’s debt is paid. It has been since Monday afternoon. His current crisis is the result of his fucking addiction and yours. You’ve made your decision. Don’t contact me again—ever.” My eyes left hers and found Stewart’s. He stood straight and walked in my direction.
Dumbfounded at my outburst, Marilyn Sound glared at me. As she collected her thoughts, Stewart opened the door causing her to spin, suddenly muted by his presence. Rallying my strength, I said, “Marilyn, this is Stewart Harrington. I believe you have something to say to him.”
Her eyes opened wide.
Turning toward Stewart, I continued, “Stewart, my mother would like to thank you for saving their asses.”
I had the choice to concentrate on her icy glare or his smirk. I chose his smirk.
Marilyn extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Harrington. From the rock on my daughter’s finger, I presume congratulations are in order.”
“Mrs. Sound, I expect you to heed my earlier warning, and as for congratulations, yes. We’re saddened that you and Dr. Sound will be unable to attend the festivities; however, it appears that your attention will be needed and welcomed elsewhere.” He reached out to me. “Victoria, I believe we need to leave.”
Reaching for Stewart’s hand, I looked toward my mother. “Give Randall my regards. Oh, and let him know I said you’re welcome.”
My emotions stayed in check until we made it to the car. At that point, everything bubbled out: years of humiliation, of being a disappointment, and of being unwanted. As I collapsed into Stewart’s embrace, I whispered, “Please, I’m begging.”
Pushing me slightly away, Stewart looked down into my tear-filled eyes. “Victoria?”
“Please take me home. I need you to make me forget. I need you inside of me.”
Raising his voice, he commanded, “Travis, take Miss Conway and me back to the apartment.”
I held tightly to his hand as he walked me to the master bedroom, on the first floor of the penthouse. It had the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the living room, filling the massive space with natural light. Pulling me close, Stewart demanded, “Say it. I need to hear it.”
“Please, please…” Unabashed, I fell to my knees. “I’m begging you to make me forget. I’m begging you for your cock. I need you inside of me.”
“Victoria?”
I looked up at the massive, powerful man before me. Offering me his hand, he said, “Stand up.”
I did, though on trembling knees.
“That, my darling, will be the first and the last time you’ll ever beg. Do you understand?”
I didn’t, though I nodded.
“Thursday, you’ll be Mrs. Stewart Harrington. No one—not your mother, your father, nor your stepfather—no one but me will ever again have the power over you.” He raised my chin. “Do you truly understand?”
“I do.”
“Are you confident of what you want?”
Reaching for Stewart’s belt, I said, “I am.”
He grasped my hand. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, darling, this is my area of expertise. Let me.”
Nodding, I released his belt, but rubbed his hidden erection.
Spinning me around, Stewart lowered the zipper of my dress and removed the straps from my shoulders. The soft fabric fluttered to the floor as his low hiss filled me with a much-needed semblance of power. With my back to him, he secured the waistband of my panties and reverently pulled them toward the floor.
“You are so fucking beautiful.” He turned my nude body to face him and gingerly kissed my lips, holding me close. The beat of his heart reverberated in his massive chest as his arms warmed and shielded me from the air-conditioned air. Taking my hand, he said, “Climb on our bed and show me your wet pussy. Spread those legs. I want more than your words—let me see your body beg.”
While I did as he said, Stewart removed his jacket, shirt, and belt. With each action, his eyes stayed fixed on me. Kicking off his shoes, he undid the button on his slacks and let them drop to the floor. His boxer shorts were incapable of hiding what I’d yet to see. Lying back upon my elbows, I brought my knees together and gasped. Never in all of my life had I seen anything so large. His penis stood erect, nearly touching his navel.
“Oh… I-I don’t know… if…”
Removing his boxer briefs, Stewart climbed onto the bed. His blue eyes shimmered with lust as his words reassured me. “I’ve wanted this since before you walked into my office. Tori, I’m going to make you forget everything. All you’ll be thinking about is the incredible stretching in your tight pussy.” His anticipation was evident as he asked, “Do you trust me?”
Naïvely, I did. “Yes.”
Spreading my legs, he kissed the inside of my thighs, each kiss moving closer and closer to my sex.
“I’ll never get tired of your scent, so sweet.” His tongue lapped my slit. “So good.” Another lick.
I wanted more. “Please,” I said as I gripped the sheets in anticipation.
More carefully positioned licks and kisses, so close yet not penetrating and not touching my clit. “What do you want?” he taunted.
“I want your cock,” I proclaimed with confidence.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Stewart kneeling between my legs, his cock right in front of me. “Touch it, Tori. Feel what’s going to be inside of you.”
Uncertainly, I reached out and stroked the smooth, stretched skin. He moaned as it twitched with veins protruding and balls hanging heavily below. A drip of pre-come shimmered at the head.
“That’s it. Stroke it.”
My hand surrounded it: my thumb and fingers unable to touch. I looked up to his approving gaze. “Are you sure it will fit?” I asked.
“I’m sure.”
Reaching for a condom that I didn’t realize he had, he slid the sheathing over the length and eased his body over mine. “Relax, Tori. Open for me.”
I lifted my knees. Slowly he moved over me. When the head of his cock pushed against my entrance, I gasped.
“It’s all right. Let me in.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated on his words as slowly his cock moved in and out, in and out, each time penetrating deeper than the time before. The only thing I could think about was the stretching of my core as pain gave way to pleasure. Sounds came from my lips as I once again grasped the soft sheets and fought the urge to pull away, but with each thrust that buried his hard cock deeper inside of me, I knew there was nowhere for me to go. Pain and pleasure intermixed as he filled me to my core.
“Fuck! You feel so good, so fucking tight.”
Nothing else in the world mattered. With his balls against my ass, he stilled. When I opened my eyes, I saw only him. His voice filled the bedroom suite.
“God, you’re amazing. Are you all right?”
I was. I was stretched, sore, and filled. Nodding, I smiled while a tear trickled from the corner of my eye.
Stewart lapped the tear with his tongue and rained kisses on my neck and breasts. Teasing my nipples, he sucked each one, creating taut, hard nubs. All the while, his cock moved in and out of me. In no time, the ache in my thighs gave way to a building tension that was forming inside of me. Subconsciously, I began to move in sync with him. My hips danced with each of his thrusts as his pace increased. The internal pressure was like nothing I’d ever known. It was nothing like what his fingers or mouth had been able to produce. Grabbing my ass, he pulled me closer, willing my already spread thighs farther apart and pounded his cock against my core.
We were almost there, almost to the peak of the mountain, and then with one final thrust he brought me to the top. The orgasm hit all at once. There was nothing else in the world: no aching muscles, no extended family. It was only the two of us. With his warm skin burning against mine, I fell. No, he threw me to the depths below. Screaming his name, I plummeted until there was nothing left. My only movement was the spasms flowing inside of me from head to toe.
“Fuck! I love the way your pussy milks my cock,” he said as he continued to pump. “You’re not done. Not yet.”
How did he know I wasn’t done? I was lying in pieces, unable to move. He reached between us and rolled my already swollen clit between his fingers. I called out at the delicious pain. I didn’t know how much more I could take. The friction of his cock, in and out, the movement of his fingers. I couldn’t breathe as the mountain formed in the distance. Again his lips and teeth found my breasts. Kisses gave way to nips. The mountain had the highest peak I’d ever seen and the journey was long. Undaunted, Stewart pushed me upward, thrust, by thrust, until my entire body hung precariously on the ledge.
“Now!” he demanded, pinching my clit and drilling into my depth. My second orgasm hit harder than the first. My newly painted nails dug into his broad shoulders. It was the only way to keep from washing away as each new wave roared through me. Stewart screamed, “Oh, fuck!” as he slammed into me one last time. His engorged cock pulsed inside my now tender core as he collapsed on top of me.
Paralyzed and mute, I lay below my fiancé, surrounded by his warmth. When he finally moved, I was left feeling empty, until he pulled me close to his side and kissed my hair. “Go to sleep, my Tori. Tomorrow we leave for our wedding.”