by D. A. Young
Holt stood them up and his hand went to her back. The room filled with the sound of Kat’s dress’s zipper being pulled down. She pushed the dress from her shoulders and down until it pooled at her feet, revealing her white lace demi bra and matching bikini panties that clung to her curves. Her nipples resembled ripened fruit, and Holt’s mouth watered for another taste.
“Gotdamn!” Holt covered his mouth and just stared, his hot eyes filled with pent-up, dirty need, drinking his fill. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. It’s not my first time seein’ your body and Lord knows it won’t be my last but sheesh, Mrs. B, you’re bad as hell!”
“Thank you, baby. You’re no slouch either.” Kat stepped out of the fabric and stood before him. “Seems like one of us is overdressed again.”
“Let me rectify that situation.”
Holt shrugged out of his jacket while Kat unbuttoned his white dress shirt. He unknotted his tie and removed both articles of clothing while she undid his belt buckle and pants. Holt shoved them down and kicked them off, undressed except for his boxer-briefs. She allowed a sigh of appreciation to escape her lips at the sight of his every inch of his golden, defined body — his broad chest and sinewy arms, chiseled abs, thighs, and legs.
“This is really happening,” she said huskily. Kat should have been nervous. The thought of getting in bed with a badass like her husband should have had her petrified. Especially with that dick print. Only a fool wouldn’t have insisted on penile reduction before marriage. Instead, she was trembling with anticipation.
“It is, but first…”
Holt took Kat’s hand and led them back to the sofa, and sat back down, while Kat waited, trembling. He unsnapped the front clasp between her breasts and the bra fell away, revealing her breasts. Holt teased her nipples while he bent his head and inhaled the fragrance of her pussy, allowing his tongue to snake between her thighs and lap up her arousal soaking through the lace of her panties.
“Holt! Oh yes! More,” she whimpered riding his tongue and gasping at his pinches and tugs. Her nails clawed at his scalp as his tongue slid underneath the lace and stroked the dripping seam of her core. Languid strokes that slipped further between her puffy lips with each round. “Baby, baby…I love it.”
She was on the precipice of cumming when he suddenly pulled back with a savage smirk and grabbed a pillow and tossed it at Kat’s feet. “Not yet, sweet wife. Knees first.”
Like the queen she was, Kat lowered herself gracefully to kneel on the pillow between his powerful thighs. He gathered her curls and fanned them around her shoulders, captivated by the way they clung to her breasts, playing peek-a-boo with her plump nipples. He kissed her swollen mouth and guided her hand to his dick and she eased his boxers down. He sprung free, cock jutting forth aggressively from the short nest of curls between his powerful thighs and thumping her breasts. Kat’s hand grasped it, but it was too thick for her fingers to meet. She judged it to be ten inches easy, possibly more. It felt like pulsing satin covered iron underneath Kat’s fingers. She stroked it from base to tip, and Holt hissed his pleasure into her mouth, thrusting into her hand in the same rhythm he used his tongue. Encouraged, Kat tightened her hold and pumped faster, allowing the sticky fluid that pumped from the head to coat her fingers for an effortless glide.
“That’s right, darlin’. Touch me like that! Fuck yeah,” Holt growled, teeth scraping her plump lips and licking the sting away.
“You like it? You’re so big…making you fit is going to take an act of God,” Kat mused, tightening her grip.
“I’m just right, Mrs. Brammer,” he corrected her roughly, breaking their kiss. Their gazes clashed and Holt was addicted to how aroused Kat was and looked for him. “Taste me. Take me in. Make me fit. Let me watch how beautifully you do it, min drottning.”
Obeying him sexually was such an aphrodisiac for her. Kat was deeply in tune with her sexuality and femininity and loved how her husband appreciated it as well. And appreciate her he did. Holt gave a full-body shudder as her warm, greedy tongue curled around his broad head and lapped up all of his essence. Caught up in the rapture his taste brought her, Holt was enthralled as Kat’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks and her plush mouth drew his bulbous head into her mouth, stretching it wide, dedicated to the agenda of pleasing her husband. Katerina had scarcely touched him and already it was hands down the best fucking blow job of Holt’s life.
Blow jobs had never appealed to Kat before Holton. The girl talk varied and she’d even heard a horror story of a girl receiving an unexpected facial because her boyfriend hadn’t given her a countdown warning. But her husband…she craved his taste. It was clean, manly, not musty and slightly salty. Kat loved every drop of it and how powerful he felt, sleek and veined, between her lips.
“That’s right, darlin’. Get filthy with it,” he encouraged in a guttural groan, fighting for his life not to cum. She worked her sexy mouth up and down, cheeks hollowing with each motion. What she couldn’t fit, she pumped with her hands, completely undoing him. Holt was unhinging, watching his beautiful wife being corrupted by his dick. Kat’s body dipped and twisted sensuously in time to her bobbing head prompting Holt to wonder what kind of husband he would be if he didn’t reward her stellar behavior.
Her husband eased forward, forcing more of him down her throat. Kat cried out in surprise as two fingers burrowed into her pussy from behind. They settled into a strong, smooth fuck that worked in tandem with her rolling hips and bobbing head. Holt’s wicked chuckle filled her ears as she spasmed around them.
“I think your pussy likes this, min drottning. Come on and show me how much so we can get to the really good stuff.”
He found the sensitive area that connected her neck and shoulder. Holt licked and sucked it languidly stressing her nerves and pussy torturously. Shiit, not the sweet spot. Kat surrendered to it all, appreciating his dexterity. Her hands fell away from his shaft, nails digging into his muscled thighs as she detonated, furiously working her mouth as thoroughly as Holt operated his fingers. The vibrations from Kat’s choked moans around his dick were a guarantee that he was going to shoot his load down her throat if they didn’t stop. Holt gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow as he forced his orgasm back and withdrew his fingers from his wife’s drenched sex. Under her fevered stare, Holt sucked them clean and used his other hand to ease her off his dick. Kat fell against him weakly.
“You didn’t come to play, Mr. Brammer,” she gasped.
“Games are for suckas, darlin’,” Holt informed her hoarsely, pushing her curls away from her damp face. He smiled at the alluring sight Kat presented with her desire flushed skin and slumberous eyes.
Through it all, the crown had remained untouched on her head.
Holt pulled her against him and hoisted her up. His crown nuzzling against her silken heat. “Min drottning, you blow my fuckin’ mind. Let’s take this show to the bedroom.”
He lowered his head and devoted his attention to her breasts as he walked. The symphony of Kat’s incoherent moans and sighs of pleasure echoing through their otherwise quiet home.
***
“Why are you leavin’ so soon?” Casey quizzed Dominick as he handed over the keys to his Mustang. “There’re still plenty of good times to be had. Good food and music and even greater company.”
“I’m cool; thanks Case. My head’s been killing me since you blew that whistle in it,” Dominick replied. It was a little white lie. That headache had faded yesterday. He was soul-sick at the way Ian was systematically ignoring him. He hadn’t felt this invisible since his days of trying to win his late sperm donor’s affection. Dominick winced, thinking of the way Ian had painstakingly avoided him at the hospital. He’d also waited until Dominick was occupied at the nurses’ station to sneak out.
“My bad. Sid’s crazy butt was whooshing when she should have been puffing! You know I’d been practicing this technique with her for the last three months! It was foolproof! She was off-beat and won’t a
dmit it!”
“Right. Got it!” Dominick clutched the keys and began inching toward the door. Between his brother-in-law’s overzealousness and Sidra’s pregnancy paranoia, the last nine months felt like an eternity, waiting for Moira’s arrival. “See you at the crib.”
He hightailed it out of there and was so busy looking over his shoulder that he nearly missed Ian smoking a cigarette near the exit. His headache came crashing back at the sight of the distinguished gentleman. From his aristocratic features and the silver waterfall that fell gracefully to his shoulders to his custom-designed suits that flattered his lean body, Ian was immaculate elegance personified. It stirred a manic need in Dominick to see him undone. To see his eyes feral with lust and Ian’s sculpted lips bruised from punishing kisses. He wondered what sounds the older man would make if given a proper blow job.
He would never know.
Ian had been blatantly clear that he was not interested in Dominick. He had to move on from the lurid thoughts. They were easy to push aside when he was in the studio, but Dominick could do nothing about his dreams and the way Ian invaded them. The most recent one had been last night. It was so vivid that Dominick had awakened, fucking his fist, unable to control himself.
They were showering. Ian had him pressed against the tiled wall, his hand covering Dominick’s mouth while expertly jerking him off. Ian’s satisfied grunts were absorbed into his lover’s flesh as he sucked and bit at his neck before lowering to his nipples. Dominick returning the favor, his hand around Ian’s stiff cock, applying a more aggressive pace. His other hand gripped Ian by the ass, fingers inching between the taut cheeks. Their skin flushed with excitement as sinewy muscles flexed and strained against each other in their race toward completion.
Dominick had rolled over, burying his face in the pillow and finished himself off as quietly as possible.
If this was just lust, he could accept that. On more than one occasion, he’d experienced it but rarely acted on it. It was Ian’s gentleness that sucked Dominick in. He could watch him all day and frequently did if he was in the vicinity, as he conversed with his best friends and godsons or while engaging with their wives and playing with the children. Ian had a way of looking intently at you as if you were the only one that mattered; no one else in the room existed. And when he spoke in that low, cultured, intimate voice, Dominick was captivated. Yes, Ian was a public relations guru, and it was his job to read situations and make sugar out of shit; however, Dominick had believed there was more to him. There wasn’t. He was just a naïve idiot who’d fallen for an unspoken lie. The Nero lesson had been a painful one to experience and move on from, but even that didn’t hurt as much as falling for Ian.
“Dominick, could you spare a minute? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” Ian explained stiltedly. “Please.”
“Does it have to do with our working relationship?”
Ian flushed and took a sharp drag of his cigarette, staring down at his feet, shamefaced. It hurt to look at this beautiful man and the hurt and confusion he wore like a second skin. Dominick had everything going for him. He also had daddy issues. He didn’t need an old dog like him sniffing around. But the singer did deserve an explanation regarding Ian’s deplorable behavior. Vivienne had been as vocal as Sidra in her opinion fifteen minutes ago.
“Quit being an ass, Ian. Dom deserves better than that. Not only is he a wonderful human being, more importantly, he’s family. You can’t avoid him! If that’s not enough to convince you, I will hostage the grandbabies! Go talk to him.”
“I deserved that and more. No, it’s not work-related, Dominick.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss. I’ll admit I’m not always the sharpest tool in the shed, but I never forget a lesson once I learn it. Please transfer my account back to either Vivienne or Jack. Goodbye, Ian.”
Dominick left him. He could feel Ian’s gaze on him and was filled with a longing to return to him. He resisted turning around for one last glimpse. For once, he wanted to be the one worth fighting for.
It was a shame that he didn’t look back because for once, Ian was being extremely transparent.
The naked desire on his face couldn’t be concealed if he’d tried.
***
Keith Geller, the photographer Alexei had hired for the event, thanked him profusely before leaving the hospital. He drove home and went straight to his darkroom to develop the photographs Romankov had insisted on rushing. When he finally emerged, he wasn’t alone.
“Hey, I thought you’d stop by tomorrow. I’m still in the process of developing,” he nervously explained to the man sitting on his living room sofa.
Keith’s eyes darted around the room, noting that nothing was amiss. How had he gotten in?
“Through the patio doors in the kitchen.” Answering the unspoken question, Cruz rose and pulled an envelope from his back pocket and tossed it to Keith. “Ten thousand dollars cash as promised. I need those wedding pics ASAP. Call me when they’re done.”
“Yes, sir. This will stay between us, right? You won’t make the pics public? I signed a nondisclosure and confidentiality agreements-”
“Relax, Geller. They’re for personal use only. If they make it to the tabloids, it won’t be on my account.”
Keith watched as Cruz disappeared the way he came.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Holt captured her lips, and they exchanged flavors as he lowered Kat to their bed and followed her down, caging her within the steel bands of his limbs. He removed the crown from her head and set it aside, knowing it wasn’t going to stay on for what he had planned next. Kat’s arms twined around his neck, and her legs encircled his waist, deliberately brushing her sex against his.
“How are you feelin’, love?”
Kat closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his shaft pressing into her with every roll of his hips. Holt bit her jaw and moved to her earlobe, shifting his hand between them to torment her as he stroked up and down her seam, lingering on her back door.
“I’m feeling like I need my husband to make love to me now. No more waiting, Holton,” she imperiously dictated.
He smiled at her order and smacked her clit with his dick to remind her who was in charge. Kat’s eyes flew open, her mouth parting at the wicked sensations. Holt did it twice more for good measure.
“Jesus!”
“Even he can’t save you from all the sinnin’ we’re about to do,” Holt vowed, lining his heavy length up to Kat’s welcoming portal. Bracing himself on one arm, he eased forward and was met with resistance from her gloriously tight pussy.
Panting, Kat arched into him, trembling at how good the hot stabbing pressure felt as Holt rocked back and forth gently, progressing deeper with each thrust. A sheen of sweat formed over his flesh from his restraint. “Swear you’ll stop me if it hurts.”
Writhing sinuously, Kat’s hips lifted tentatively to meet his. “If it hurts, I know it’s not intentional, husband. I need more. Don’t be fragile with me. I was made to be yours and vice versa, min kung. I can take whatever you dish out.”
Holt paused, eyes searching hers at hearing the praise on her lips.
She smiled up at him, all adoration and untarnished trust, her nails trailing down his back to rake across his ass.
Min kung.
My king.
Holt’s mouth slammed down on hers, and he surged forward, breaking through Kat’s virginal barrier and swallowing her distressed groan. Impaling her fully with his length, he knew from the sting of her nails digging into his ass that it hurt more than she’d anticipated. Lifting his lips, Holt stilled as she absorbed his welcome invasion, her body’s natural reflex to milk him with her iron clamp.
Holt kissed her tenderly, raining them all over Kat’s face, down her neck, and on her clavicle. “Are you okay? Let me know, and I’ll make it better, Kat.”
Yowzers, Kat thought dazedly, waiting for the burn to recede. It felt like Holton was everywhere. His width and girth… full was the
only way to describe how she felt.
Licking her lips, she slowly exhaled when the pain vanished and spread her thighs wider. They shared a guttural groan of bliss as Holt sank even deeper into her.
“I’m more than okay.” Kat pushed up on her elbows and kissed her husband sensuously. “Welcome home, baby.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Holt hoarsely replied, flexing his hips. Kat’s head fell back and the ecstasy on her face broke his control. Finally, he moved. Plunging into her sumptuous pussy with punishing strokes, filling her to the absolute hilt. Their pelvic bones met each time, making Kat’s body jerk with each hip roll and reminding her that she was at her husband’s mercy. It was affirmation sex – intention and promise in every kiss, touch, and thrust Holt gave and Kat welcomed with a limitless hunger. The bed rocked under his relentless thrusts as their tongues collided and his fingers pleasured her clit. Orgasmic waves pummeled her body. Before she knew it, she was coming apart, Holt’s renegade style of fucking, leaving her blind and surrounded by white noise. Bucking uncontrollably, Kat wrenched her mouth away from his to vocalize her pleasure.
“Holton!”
He held her in place by sucking insatiably at her nipples when she would have wiggled away from his teasing fingers. Never once did Holt stop fucking her with the momentum of a runaway train, and Kat loved every bit of it.
“I know, darlin’. I’m right there with you. We ain’t done yet, though. I know you’ve got one more in you.”
Kat’s pussy was his absolute fucking weakness. Golden, filthy kryptonite from the gods. Holt couldn’t help himself or get enough, wildly out of control for his wife. The only thing that stopped his thrusts from being considered brutal was the fact that she was so damn wet. And tight. And delicious. This was Holt’s true first time. Kat made him feel like a born-again virgin. The shuddering force of his orgasm tore through him, short-circuiting his brain. He flooded her womb, triggering a second orgasm from Kat. She clung to Holt helplessly, her mouth finding his as she was devoured once more.
