Page 31 of Wedding Wrecker

I melt at the endearing term and imagine him whispering that into my nape as we wake up together, but the mention of my wedding is like ice water dumped under my collar, and I shudder. “W—why wouldn’t I?

Logan sighs and runs his hand up my side, sending ants all the way up to my armpit. It’s so hard to focus when he’s touching me. “We both know why.”

My mind is a bubbling mixture of elements I can’t possibly put together while he’s this close, making me burn. I know I have the right words to rebuff him. I’m also positive he’d step away if I pushed him back, but the truth is that this is everything I’ve ever wanted, and I crave to satiate my heart before I take Madison as my wife.

“I told you,” I whisper. “I want a normal life. I want a family. I want to be loved. And you’re only here for a bit of fun.”

Logan won’t meet my gaze for a while, but the way his grip slides to my hip burns through clothes. “How about one last rodeo then, hm?” He nudges my nose with his, pressing me against the desk, and as I inhale his rich, warm scent, it becomes clear to me that this is the only thing I want to breathe in for the rest of my life.

It’s not gonna happen. He’s here because he liked fucking me that first time. He doesn’t truly know me or care for me. Why would he? The lifestyle he leads doesn’t lend itself to the kind of future I need, so maybe he just doesn’t get it.

Still, his words sound genuine, and in this moment I want to believe them. “Last one,” I whisper as my heart sinks.

I should not be sad on a day like this, so I focus on his presence and open the first button of his shirt. I spot his self-satisfied smile from the corner of my eye before his lips crash into mine like a tidal wave. The impact leaves me breathless but I open my mouth, letting in this intruder, this meddler, this guy who shouldn’t even be here.

He reaches for my thighs and lifts me to the desk in a move so smooth he must have done it a million times. Opening my legs to allow him between them seems like the most natural thing in the world.

It feels so instinctual and obvious, unlike the constant pressure of being the kind of man Madison needs me to be around her. I open my mouth to tease his tongue with mine as my fingers open his shirt, burned by the heat radiating from under the fabric. I want to touch him more than I got the chance to last time, because I’ll never get this opportunity again.

I groan in pleasure when I slide my hand under his shirt, over the coarse hairs on his rock-solid stomach, and onto one of his meaty pecs.

I’m already hard. He just does it for me. His attitude, his words, his body, his smell, I could drown in every last part of him.

Logan’s kiss becomes voracious, but he doesn’t waste time, opening my pants. When he slides his hand into my underwear and cups my dick, he grins against my lips.

“Missed me?” he whispers.

“Damn you,” I mutter, because this teasing is cruel, but I won’t refuse him just because he’s mean. It’s not him I’m going to marry, so his attitude should not matter. I can’t help myself and drag the jacket and open shirt off him, revealing strong shoulders that I hold on to, greedy to feast on him for as long as I can.

I feel like a vampire when I suck on his neck. He can wear a scarf after this for all I care. I need to taste him. My hands wander more frantically by the second, because access to his body is making me lose my mind.

I don’t even give a damn that I might be embarrassing myself when I rock against his hand, fucking his fist. What do I have to lose at this point? There is no dignity to speak of.

I relish the little shiver that goes down his throat when I suckle on the bottom of his earlobe. I might not be experienced, but I’m starving.

When Logan makes me lean back, I realize he’s trying to pull my pants down and I raise my hips from the desk to help him (or myself) out. I want to be naked with him in a meadow and smell sun in his hair, but this will have to do.

As soon as he pulls my pants and underwear down to my knees, I push one of my shoes off with my toes, and let my clothes fall lower, until Logan steps on them and I can pull my leg out. I don’t even care that my pants are now dangling from one of my feet and jingling with the belt. So maybe I look ridiculous, but the fire burning in his gray eyes proves how far he is from caring about such things.

When I lean back, his hat nudges my flesh, and I shove it to the floor before pulling Logan down with me. I want him to cover me with his warmth and leave his scent everywhere, until I no longer remember where I am and why.

“You often accost grooms like this?”

He chuckles and sniffs me from neck to ear. “‘Accost’? You spread your legs pretty willingly.” And when he pushes against me, his cock is still in his pants, but I can sense how hard it is already.

I tremble as shame grows like a slimy egg at the back of my throat, but I swallow it down, because what does it matter at this point. We’re likely never gonna see each other again after this, and he won’t tell anyone. This is gonna be our secret.

“So, do you often go after grooms at weddings?” I demand, because the greedy, naive idiot inside me wants to be special to him in something at least.

The sound of his zipper opening sends a shiver down my spine, and my ass twitches in anticipation. I want it. I want him so bad.

“No, you’re my first victim.” It might be amusing to him, but my life is on the line and every second with him seems like something I need to etch in my memory, so I can return to these moments once my life changes.

“Good. Don’t do it again,” I mutter and wrap my legs tightly around him before pulling him in. Oh, feeling his groin clash with my buttocks is enough to mess with my head.

“So greedy, I like it,” he murmurs and reaches to his own cock, only to slide its hot, smooth head between my buttocks. I don’t think he’s wearing a rubber, and while I know I should tell him to get one, a part of me wants to feel his cum inside. I wonder if it makes the whole thing even better, or if it’s a nuisance to deal with afterward, but his cock keeps moving up and down my crack, and its motion makes my insides flutter.

I’ve only been fucked once before, and it feels like I’m already addicted to it.