Chapter 5

Owen

This woman is something else.

One second, she’s batting me away, and the next, her mouth is wrapped around my dick.

It’s fucking amazing, and I love it.

Since the moment I saw her, she had my dick’s attention. It was rock hard as I watched her tight little body sashay around the ballroom, teasing me as her ass and tits bounced with every movement.

I knew I had to have her. And I always get what I want.

“Ah, yes!”

My dick hits the back of her throat again, and my body is electrified.

I lean against the bed, needing to brace myself for what will surely be an amazing orgasm. A few rose petals land on my head, and I blow them away.

I look around briefly, not wanting to miss any of the show in front of me, and I see champagne and champagne glasses in my peripheral vision, and it dawns on me: this is where my brother plans on fucking his wife tonight. It’s decorated for newlyweds—specifically for wedding night consummation.

I knew it was his room, but I didn’t think they’d go all out for this shit.

I laugh. This is fucking perfect. I’m not one bit upset; in fact, I love this moment even more.

Possibly just as much as her mouth on me.

I’ll have to make sure to fuck her right on top of that rose petal heart. I can’t wait, and I’m swiftly jolted back to the job at hand.

“You’re fucking mouth is addicting,” I grunt as her lips tighten around my girth.

It’s fucking impressive how she can take me so easily. It makes me more eager to see how inviting her cunt is.

She licks down my shaft and sucks my balls into her mouth, kneading them with her tongue.

The sensation is fucking maddening.

I moan and grab onto her hair, pulling it to release some of the rising tension. I can feel my orgasm build, pressure stiffening my muscles.

“I’m going to fuck that tight body of yours until you can’t walk,” I groan.

She’s like a fucking porn star with that mouth, a petite little slut consuming me like it’s her job.

I need to be inside of her, see what else she has up her sleeve.

She purrs against my cock, the vibrations of her lips winding me up tighter.

“That’s a big promise to make,” she says with her mouth full of me.

It’s a beautiful fucking sight. A scene I’d love to watch every day of my damn life.

“Oh, I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

She looks up at me, her blue eyes darkened with desire and filled with heat. There’s a spark of excitement that lightens her expression, and I can tell she’s on board for what’s to come—for her to cum.

“Like the sound of that? My hard dick pounding into you, bending you over, and taking you like the slut you are?”

“And what else?” she asks through shallow breaths, grabbing my dick with her hand. Her thumb rubs my precum around my head and massages my throbbing vein.

This is a power move. I’ve seen these moves before—I’ve done it before, and I’ve been on the receiving end of it. But two can play at this game, and I’m a fucking professional at it.

I stare at her, determination and promise in my eyes and voice.

“I’ll spread you beneath me on that rose petal bed and fill that tight body of yours with my twelve inches.”

She licks my tip and swallows me whole—again.

I groan, loudly, and clutch onto her head. My hips thrust up into her, and she takes me hungrily, like I’m her last fucking meal.

“And…” she murmurs.

“And I’ll devour that wet cunt of yours, licking and sucking your clit until you’re crying out my name, begging for me to make you cum.”

My cock begins to pulsate, and my muscles tense to the point of pain. I’m on the brink of exploding, and I can tell she’s making me last longer.

She’s doing exactly what I promised I’d do to her.

She is so fucking good.

“I’ll pour champagne all over your naked body and lick every drop, getting drunk off you.”

I envision it, and my body stills.

“I’ll shower you with my cum while your orgasm rips through you, making your body numb and needy. You’ll be begging for more, wanting nothing but my dick inside of you.”

Her mouth wraps around me, tightly, and she gradually pulls my length into her. Her hands massage my balls, and she starts a torturous rhythm—stroking my dick, fondling my balls, and fingering my taint.

“Cum in me,” she demands.

“I’m going to fucking explode in you. Drink me, baby.”

I moan and reach for her.

My muscles start to jerk, and she grazes her teeth over my sensitive skin, sending me over the edge.

I erupt, and cum gushes into her mouth violently. She takes it all like the fucking professional she is, and milks me with her hand.

“Fuck, yes. Swallow my cum. Take it all.”

When I finish, she licks me clean, making sure to follow my directions.

Good girl.

I run my hands through her hair as she diligently cleans my mess, and I’m mesmerized by her talented tongue.

Suddenly, I hear voices come from the other side of the door, and before I can react, Carl and Carol walk in.

Fuck.

Carol shrieks and covers her eyes, like she just witnessed a murder, and Carl holds her, angling her view away from us.

I laugh, unable to control it.

They’re so fucking dramatic. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before—or have done. Well, hopefully.

The devious woman before me immediately jumps up to her feet and wipes her mouth. Her cheeks grow as crimson as her lips, and she fumbles around to straighten her dress and hair.

“Do you not knock around here?” I ask Carl while I put my dick back in my pants and zip it up.

“To our—my—bedroom?” he yells at me.

He’s furious, and I’m not sure what for. Yes, this doesn’t look great, and I probably shouldn’t be getting fucked in the bedroom that’s made up for his wedding night, but to me, it was fucking worth it.

And to be honest, knowing that I shouldn’t be here made it more fun.

“This our room, and if you can’t tell, it was for our wedding night,” Carol says through soft sobs.

She turns into Carl’s chest, still holding her hands over her face.

“Oh, calm down, Carol. It’s just a fucking bed. I’m sure you’ve fucked in it before.”

She cries out louder, continuing the theatrics. It’s ridiculous.

I finish buttoning my shirt and find my jacket on the floor between the mouth expert and myself.

Mira watches me intensely and wraps her arms around her waist, almost shivering from her nerves.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, sounding genuinely remorseful.

She’s a great actor, and I’m actually impressed. Though she might truly be apologetic and if so, she shouldn’t be. She has nothing to feel bad about—she should be proud.

“Don’t be. Don’t apologize for having fun.”

I wink at her while eyeing her up and down.

She might be humiliated or nervous as fuck, but she still looks fucking amazing.

“Do you even know each other?” Carl says, moving away from Carol and closer to me.

“We just met actually. Impressive, right?”

I can see her out of the corner my eye squeeze herself more, and she moves away from me.

“This isn’t something I do often. Or ever, actually. I got caught up in the moment,” she admits to each of them.

What does that mean?

According to my calculations, her and that mouth are very experienced. She’s a fucking expert, and that tongue of hers proves it. And I know it was more than a moment that brought her to her knees.

“It’s disgusting,” Carol spits out at her, and I almost go to her, like Carl did to Carol, feeling oddly protective.

“What we did was anything but disgusting, Carol. You should try it sometime. Carl might give you another diamond for it.” I wink at her and smile at Carl. “You’re welcome in advance.”

“Don’t talk to my wife like that, Owen. Watch yourself.”

He goes over to Carol and holds her again. It’s almost pathetic how much he babies her. She’s a grown ass woman; she’ll be fine.

“Mira, do you know who he is?” Carol asks again, this time more pointed and stern.

“No, Mom. I just met him, like he said.”

There’s the spitfire woman I saw earlier, the one who quips back and talks dirty. The one—unlike Carol—who doesn’t cower when something doesn’t go her way.

Wait. What the fuck did she just call her?

It doesn’t hit me at first because I’m distracted by that fiery mouth…but did she fucking say mom?

Carol is her mom?

What the fuck?

Carl looks at me with his eyebrows raised and with a ‘you’re fucked’ expression.

“He’s your uncle now,” Carol says, and she points to me.

Time slows down, and I feel like everything is going in slow motion.

I watch as Mira—who I guess is my fucking niece now—becomes visibly ill. She looks like she’s been slapped across the face and kicked in the gut.

I think she might vomit.

And I think I might, too. My previously slow pace is now at light-speed, and the world spirals around me. I feel sick to my stomach.

I knew what I was doing wasn’t right per se and that I’m fucked up…but I didn’t know it was this fucked up.

Fucking hell.

The woman whose mouth was around my dick, expertly milking me, and who makes me hard as fuck whenever I see her, is my niece.