The man looks at Daylen, who nods. “She makes a good point. Where should I get her name?” he asks the man.
He motions toward our newly ringed fingers. “Lots of married couples get each other’s names on their ring fingers.”
Daylen’s face lights up. “That’s agreatidea, leather man. Then I can show the world I’m married when I play ball. My wife can show them when she plays ball too.” He straightens his shoulders and wraps his arm around me proudly. “She’s a stud athlete. The best basketball player in the world. I’m so proud of her. I love watching her play. I wish their uniforms were tighter though, because she’s got a bangin’ body, doesn’t she?”
The man runs his eyes up and down my body while he licks his lips. “She sure does.”
Normally that would bother me, but not tonight. Tonight I’m loved up by my new husband’s words. Warmth floods my body for him, and while I do want us to get the tattoos, I want to get him naked even more.
I look at the guy. “How long will it take? I have a date to ride my husband’s dick.” I then grab his dick through his shorts again.
The guy chuckles. “It won’t take long at all.”
THIRTEEN
KENNEDY
We stumble into the hotel lobby as we polish off the last two slices from the most delicious wedding chapel pizza ever created. Wait, why were we at a wedding chapel? Were we guests at someone’s wedding?
He licks the last of the pizza sauce from his fingertips. “Teehee, that’s the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he screams in delight. “Where did we get it? I need to go back there tomorrow…and every single day for the rest of my life.”
I shrug, suddenly forgetting where it came from. The good news is that I think it’s helped absorb the booze a little bit. The last hour is spotty—I don’t remember how we got back to the hotel—but I’m feeling much less dizzy now that I have some food in my belly. Daylen still has a goofy smile on his face, but he’s always goofy. And handsome. Oh man, he’s so handsome.
I trace his square jawline with my fingertips. “You’re pretty,” I tell him as I lean the front of my body onto his. He doesn’t budge an inch. He’s so big and strong. It’s not often I’m around men who are significantly bigger and stronger than me. It’s such a turn-on.
He tweaks my nose. “No,you’repretty.”
His breath still smells like strawberries, and it’s the sweetest thing. I want it all over my body.
We unsteadily make our way to the elevator and use my keycard to get us access to the top floor. I look at us in the mirror of the elevator wall, taking in our appearance for the first time in hours. We’re a mess. My once-perfect ponytail and makeup look like I ran through a tornado to get here. His hair is sticking up all over the place, though that’s normal for him. I don’t think he owns a brush or a comb.
I go to move the loose hair out of my face when I realize my left hand is bandaged. What did I do to it? Am I hurt?
My hand is quickly forgotten as soon as Daylen begins kissing my neck. I look at him, the man I’ve hated for nearly a year, the man who is wearing the most ridiculous outfit in creation. Clarity slowly starts to set in. What am I doing? Am I about to have sex with him?
I can’t have sex with Daylen Humblecut, but oh god, the kissing feels good. I can’t manage to do anything but tilt my head back and let it continue. I moan at how nice his lips feel as they move down to my cleavage. I have a physical throbbing situation between my legs. Maybe one time with him won’t be so bad? It’s been a long time for me. Maybe this hate-passion between us will make for explosive sex. I can fuck him out of my system.
Yes! That’s a great idea.
No! It’s a terrible idea.
I’m still deep in my thoughts when he pins me to the side of the elevator. I can feel his massive erection pushing against my stomach. I want it lower. Why is he so damn tall?
He grabs me by the hips and growls into my ear, “I need to see your tits. I’ve dreamed about them for months. Fuck, I don’t want to want you, but I do.”
I feel the exact same way, but I’m still tormented overwhether I should see this through. Even in my hazy state, I’m wondering if this might not be a colossal mistake.
When the elevator doors open, he lifts me like a bride and brushes his lips over mine. “I’m going to make you come so hard, over and over again. You’ll be feeling me in your cunt for days.”
He does make a persuasive argument.
I grab fistfuls of his hair with both hands and pull them hard. He growls again. “It makes my cock leak when you’re rough with me.”
I lift my hand back and then bring it forward with force, slapping him across the face. Hard.
He smiles and then tap-slaps me across my face. Not nearly as hard as I slapped him, but it stings a little…and I love it.
Fuck it. This is happening.
