Yes. I’m so ready for this.
Fisting his dick, Griffin catalogs the state of me. He takes in my disheveled hair, my glassy eyes, parted lips, heaving chest, and swollen pussy. There isn’t an inch of my body his eyes don’t caress. He pumps his cock a few times, using his thumb to spread the bead of pre-cum over his head. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Please,” I beg.
His wicked grin grows wider. “Call me husband.”
I shake my head. “No.”
He shrugs, stroking his length a few more times while he considers something. Then he silently turns and walks away.
“Griffin?” I sit up, confused. “Where are you going?”
“To take care of this in the shower.”
“What?” I screech. “You’re not going to fuck me?”
“Nope.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because.” Griffin pauses when he makes it to the bathroom door, turning to look at me over his shoulder. “From now on, this cock is only for my wife. Until you decide that’s what you want to be, you’ll get my mouth and my fingers only.”
Spluttering, I try to form words, but nothing comes. I’m too full of indignation to form a coherent sentence. When I finally open my mouth, it’s to shout, “That’s bullshit!”
Griffin’s smooth laughter reverberates through the luxurious bathroom. “Maybe. But if you want my cock, you know what has to happen.”
Disappointment melds with rage. I let out an animalistic shriek that issonot sexy. “Fuck you, Wright. It’s never going to happen.”
His laughter continues, even after he’s shut the bathroom door and locked it.
I can’t believe he’s trying to use sex to get me to agree to this marriage!
And I can’t believe that, for a split second, I actually consider it.
nine
GRIFFIN
What the helldid I just do?
My mind races as I fist my dick in the shower. I’m so fucking turned on from the sight and taste of Mira that I won’t last more than a minute or two. Hell, I was about ready to come from eating her out, none of Mira’s hands, lips, or tongue on my dick necessary.
But crazier than that? I married my best friend’s little sister in Las Vegas, while drunk, slept naked with her, then ate her out while he’s a few rooms away. Am I trying to get myself murdered? Because that’s a distinct possibility.
Focus, Wright.
What am I going to do? And why the hell did I tell Mira I won’t divorce her? What’s the plan here? After Carissa all but laughed in my face when I proposed to her in college, I resigned myself to the fact that marriage wasn’t in the cards for me. She was the third woman I’d dated since freshman year who had her fun with the hockey player, dumped my ass mercilessly by the six-month mark, and then got engaged to some other dude less than six months later.
They all made it perfectly clear that I was last-fling material, not forever material. A message that I took to heart after my high school and college experiences.
So why did waking up married to Mira feel like a second chance at breaking my curse? Yeah, I’ve been attracted to her since day one. And yeah, living with her has been the most exquisite torture, since she’s off-limits. She’s beautiful, sexy as hell, and so damn smart. Being around her is simultaneously like drinking four shots of espresso and taking a pot gummy. She makes me feel energized and alive, but she also mellows me out in a way no one else ever has. Waking up married is like a gift from the gods. An excuse to hold on to her and see if we could be more than good friends who are not-so-secretly attracted to each other.
I pump my dick a little harder.
Yeah, I know Mira’s always been attracted to me. I’ve seen the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m oblivious. And maybe it was having Maddox as a cock-blocking buffer between us, but even though she’s always wanted my body, she’s never treated me like I’m some himbo piece of ass. She actually sees me. She’s taken the time to get to know me.
It’s probably batshit crazy, but I truly think we could work together. I just have to convince her to give this a real shot.
