driving me insane.
Sliding my fingers once again beneath Sophia’s dress, I stroke her hot, damp sex carefully, slowly, painstakingly until she is a hot squirming mess in my arms, her guttural groans and whimpers the only sound in the quiet back seat as the car rolls on.
I kiss the edge of Sophia’s neck, needing more, my fingers splaying and parting her wet pussy. I watch my Little Bear’s eyes close in ecstasy.
“Not yet, Bear. Not yet. Just hold on.”
Her words are muffled mutters, spoken between her teeth, tightened on her bottom lip. She whimpers my name.
“Noah, I can’t hold on…”
“Yes, you can. You can, and you will. I need you to hold on until…” I lift her tight body just enough. Releasing my thickness from my tux’s fly, I grip Sophia’s hips tight, sliding her down. She sinks onto my cock with a quiet scream, and I almost come, relishing in the feel of her unimaginable wetness, the slippery feel of her sex fitting around me as tight as a glove and ten times more perfect than Heaven.
I stifle a groan. “Right now.”
At my words, Sophia comes, exploding around me. Her cries are sudden, splitting the silence of the car into two, and I capture her moans with my mouth, swallowing each with my kiss.
As I move into Sophia, she orgasms on my cock, her mouth hungry as she angles it over mine.
I continue sliding up and into my Little Bear, bouncing her body on top of mine until she comes again, taking me with her, my orgasm ripping through me and into her as I stroke her harder, my kiss softening, slowing as our bodies come down from this unbelievable high.
I tap her lips with mine in a quick peck, parting my mouth as I meet hers. I pull back just enough to speak.
“I love you so fucking much, Sophia.”
“I love you, too, Noah.” Sophia sighs against my face, her dark curls tickling my cheek. “Now, tell me: How do our notes compare?”
My scoff is soft, a chuckle at best. “I have absolutely nothing on you, Little Bear. And I’m sure Nancy will be mad as hell after what we just did; I didn’t follow the rules.”
But as the words leave my mouth with a small laugh, the stretched car parks, easing up to the curb outside the church, and I fix Sophia’s dress.
“Who knew a Stephen King nerd could be this screwed?” I say as I kiss her bottom lip, savoring it. “Literally.”
“You’re probably setting records in Sci-Fi celibacy circles all around the globe.” She grins. “And there’s plenty more where that came from.” She hops off my lap, smoothing the front of her dress.
“My God, now that’s the kind of fairytale I dream about.”
And with that, we clean up quickly. Sophia kisses me, opening the back door towards the street after I straighten us both up, brushing my fingers against her cheek. I follow closely behind her, my body already ready for round two when we glance up from each other’s eyes, just long enough to see the man running towards us.
A man who shouldn’t be here. A man who should be getting ready for his own wedding.
Jesse Somerset storms towards us, his bowtie loose, dark hair tumbled around his forehead. His cummerbund is loose around his waist.
“Where is he?” He demands of Sophia. “Did he call you? God, because if he did, so help me, I will…”
Sophia stops in her tracks, me at her side, pulse thumping the entire time as confusion contorts the expression on my face. I approach Jesse, stepping forward so that he faces me instead.
“What the hell is going on, Jess? Why aren’t you preparing for your own wedding?”
“Because my dad disappeared from the halfway house last night.” He motions to Sophia. “Correction: Our dad disappeared last night. Skipped out on his parole officer.” He sighs. “And it looks like to make matters worse: Chris Jackson’s broken out of prison this morning… I thought you knew.”
I can see in Sophia’s face that she doesn’t. “Why would I know that at all?”
“Because of the Chris Jackson case, Sophia.” Jesse blinks several times. “He’s finally being tried for murder. And the victim…was Nancy’s dad. It was announced this morning, soon to be all over the news.”
The color drains from Sophia’s face as I reach out to hold her. A text buzzes from inside her small clutch purse. Fishing it out, she reads the surface of her cell, her lips straightening, skin paling as she