Leslie Kelly

One Wild Wedding Night


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brushing his lips over the elastic edge of her panties, then tugging at it with his teeth. Pushing them down to fall at her feet with the dress, he stared for a long moment, admiring her femininity, his mouth watering for more.

      When he grazed his lips across her soft curls, he felt her quake in response. “I’ve still got you,” he whispered, seeing the way her skin quivered and flushed beneath the heat of his breath, the contrast from the cold air of the cabin.

      “Good. I won’t be able to stay on my feet if you—”

      He cut her off by opening his mouth on her, covering her mound and licking deep into her sweet, wet crevice. Fortunately, he had a good grip on the delectable curves of her ass because Bridget’s legs did give out. She cried out in stunned delight, collapsing back toward the sofa, Dean helping her down.

      He remained on the floor. Kneeling between her spread legs.

      “If this is how you start, I can’t imagine how you finish.”

      He laughed softly. Staring at her soft body, cast in pools of light and shadow from the flames in the woodstove, he murmured, “Oh, Bridge, we started months ago.”

      She glanced down at him and nodded. “I know.” Tangling her hands in his hair, she tugged him. “Come up here and kiss me.”

      “I was kissing you,” he teased, dropping his mouth to the V of her thighs again. He flicked his tongue out to sample her pert clit, rewarded with her delighted gasp and the thrust of her hips toward his hungry mouth.

      Dean devoured her, knowing there was so much more to be done but not ready to give up this particularly intimate pleasure until, hearing her frenzied cries and seeing the tensing of her muscles, he realized she was close to climaxing. “Come on, beautiful,” he murmured, wanting to take her there.

      And suddenly he did. She arched hard, crying out in delight as tremors ran throughout her body.

      Dean gradually worked his way up her body. Every taste whetted his appetite. Every brush of his lips sent fresh quivers through her. She was slender—not too curvaceous but so feminine she could illustrate the word. Soft everywhere. With smooth lines of creamy skin and delicate curves, every one of which he simply had to taste and stroke and adore.

      Finally, when he thought Bridget was going to sob if he didn’t finish his leisurely journey northward, he moved over her and stared into her eyes. “I’m glad you let me catch you.”

      “I think I caught you,” she murmured.

      “You’re absolutely sure?” he asked, already past the point of no return but figuring he ought to pretend to be a gentleman.

      She nodded. “Very sure.”

      “Thank God. Because there’s no way I’m stopping.”

      “I’d never forgive you if you did.” Tugging him close, she brushed her lips against his, then parted them and slid her tongue out to play with his.

      Dean groaned, turned his head so he could get even closer, and explored her warm mouth. Their tongues danced wildly, as she began to push his clothes off him. He lifted himself away long enough to lose the shirt, but when she reached for his belt, he pushed her hand aside. “Better let me do that. I have about as much control as a horny kid where you’re concerned.”

      Her eyes glittered, as if she liked that she drove him crazy. Hell, he liked that she drove him crazy. He went especially crazy when Bridget reached for the front clasp of her skimpy bra and flicked it open with her thumb. The lacy fabric fell away, revealing perfectly proportioned breasts.

      She nibbled her bottom lip, as if uncertain of his reaction. “Not quite centerfold material…” she whispered. “I might have been, uh, exaggerating about the 34 C.”

      “You are perfect, Bridget Donahue,” he said, his voice throaty as he studied the perfection of her, the soft skin, the dark puckered nipples that begged to be tasted.

      He tasted.

      “Dean!” she groaned when he covered one nipple and sucked it hard, while tweaking the other between his fingers.

      “So sensitive,” he mumbled as he played with her breasts, moving back and forth to nibble and suck. As he did so, her silky, stocking-covered thighs lifted and encircled his hips. She arched against him, rubbing that hot, wet center against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.

      “I need to touch you.” She was reaching for his belt again, not to be denied this time. When her slender hands brushed against the front of his trousers, his cock lurched toward it. Dean waited for more of that touch, needing it desperately.

      She rapidly unfastened his belt, tugging at his zipper, almost shaking in her want. She pushed them down just far enough to reach inside, then encircled as much of him as she could take with her cool hand. “Oh, heavens,” she whispered, sounding the tiniest bit intimidated for the first time all night. Clearing her throat, she added, “I want that. I want it now.”

      Her demand for that suddenly made his whole body stiffen as much as his dick. “Oh, God, please tell me you’re on the pill.”

      She shook her head and Dean’s stomach fell out of his body.

      “But check my purse. I, uh, made a purchase from the vending machine at the service station.”

      “So you were planning to seduce me.”

      She licked her lips. “It didn’t take much.”

      No, it hadn’t. But Dean simply didn’t care. He reached for her red bag, opened it and saw a half-dozen condom packets resting inside. “Ambitious.”

      “But not slutty.”

      As if. The woman had lady written all over her and had since the day they’d met, which was why he’d suspected from the beginning that she wasn’t involved in her boss’s dirty dealings.

      He thrust that thought away, not wanting anything to interfere with what they were doing. Grabbing one of the square packets, he studied it doubtfully. “I wonder if these things have an expiration date.” The plastic was dry and crinkly, the label smeared.

      She writhed up against him. “Just put it on!

      Dean almost chuckled at her desperation. But when he opened the condom and tried rolling it on, he stopped laughing. “Shit.”

      She glanced down, then groaned. “No.”

      “Yeah. It broke.” When he reached for the next the packet didn’t look to be in much better shape and his attempt to sheathe himself ended with the same result.

      “Just shoot me now,” she mumbled when she saw yet another one break just as he began to unroll it over himself.

      “Remind me to stop at that gas station Monday and throttle that guy. He’s a damned sadist.”

      When he reached for the fourth and fifth and got the same dried up, useless condoms, he felt like throwing himself in front of a train. Anything to put himself out of the misery of having everything he wanted in his grasp…and being unable to reach out and take it.

      Bridget looked on the verge of tears. “Can you put two of them on? Just double up? They can’t be torn in the same places.”

      He choked out a laugh, almost desperate enough to do it. “I don’t think they’d hold up, even if I put all six on over top of each other and cut my circulation off completely.” Though, to be honest, at this moment, he believed the temporary release would be worth it, even if his dick fell off afterward.

      She grabbed the remaining packet. “This one doesn’t look too bad.” The hopefulness in her voice was so damned adorable he had to bend down and kiss her again, slow and sweet.

      But she wasn’t satisfied with that for long. She arched up again, spreading her legs wider, looking utterly wanton and irresistible. “Don’t you