Page 187 of Bridesmaid Undercover
And before I know it, my entire body is seizing as my orgasm rips through me, sending me into a convulsing mess as I search out all the pleasure.
My hips are wild.
My moans are feral.
And my fingers dig into him as I come all over his cock.
“Holy fuck,” he says right before he flips me to my back, spreads my legs, and starts pounding into me—the strength of his thrusts brings me right up to the surface of the wall where I brace my hand. “Fuck, so good. Your pussy is so fucking good,” he shouts right before he stills, and I feel him come inside of me for the second time of the night.
And it’s so sexy.
Every muscle in his chest and stomach fires off.
His eyes are squeezed shut.
And his teeth pull on the corner of his lip right before he releases his tension and collapses onto me.
I wrap my arms and legs around him as he presses sweet, gentle kisses to my neck.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters right before lifting up to look me in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything—just stares at me in disbelief, and I do the same, because right here, in this moment, I know for a fact that I have found my person. His humor, his kindness, his sexual drive, his intelligence, his love for my comfort—the way he not only anticipates my needs but also provides for them—his passion.This is the man for me.
He lowers his mouth to mine and lightly kisses me. I thread my hands into his hair and kiss him back, never wanting to let go.
Oh.
My.
God.
My vagina feels phenomenal.
And I don’t say that lightly.
I mean, this girl is absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent satisfied.
There’s an ache between my legs.
My breasts feel sore in the best way possible.
And the clarity in my mind right now almost feels unreal.
There is not a single person on this planet that can tell me Hardy was not made for me.
Because he was.
His body, the perfect size.
His penis, even better.
And his knowledge on how to pleasure me, out of this world.
Waking up has never felt this amazing, and there is one person to give credit to: Hardy Hopper.
Smiling, I stretch my hands above my head and then flutter my eyes open, looking for the man who just convinced me that I’ve found my happily ever after. I glance to the right where he fell asleep and when I come up short, with no man next to me, concern takes root in my gut.
My eyes fall to the floor where his clothes were but are now gone.
And I sit up, nervous that he left, just as the bathroom door opens and he pops out.
