Stroke of Luck - Opal Carew Page 0,48

her soft folds, delighting at the warm slickness he found there. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard, aching cock. When he glided his tip over her wetness, he groaned.

Fuck, he could barely hold back.

She clung to his shoulders and whimpered softly.

Without thinking, he drove into her. Oh … God …

His head started to spin at the incredible feeling of being inside her tight, hot body.

Then his chest constricted. What the hell had he been thinking?

But when he gazed down at her, he saw the same desperate longing in her eyes, not anxiety at his clumsy penetration.

His need overrode all else. He pulled back and drove in again. Her softness surrounding his aching cock drove him wild. He thrust into her again and again, spiraling toward heaven with each one. His body was ablaze, the heat in his groin coiling tighter and tighter until it burned through him.

Then it released, to his guttural groan. Her moans of pleasure echoed in his ears as fireworks exploded in his head, the lights glittering behind his eyelids as he crushed her against the door, her softness a sweet comfort he’d never realized he’d needed so badly. Not just the sweetness of her warm passage around his cock or her soft breasts snug against his body, but more. The sweetness of who she was. Of how she made him feel.

She slumped, and her breathing was labored. He eased back, realizing that with his weight on her she probably couldn’t catch her breath.

Her cheeks were flushed and her hair disheveled. The long, cascading waves fell around her breasts in a golden shimmering mass.

He knew he’d taken her to orgasm, but he was ashamed to think that in his own desperation, he might not have waited for her.

Fuck, why was he always such an idiot around her? He’d waited all this time for her, desperately wanted to be with her, and had wanted this first time to be special. But he’d ruined it by taking her against the door in a twenty-second fuck session.

He was a fucking asshole.

As he stepped back, he reached for her hand.

“Oh, no,” Austin said with a smile and took hold of it himself. “Now I’m going to take my wife to bed.”

Quinn frowned, pushing back his hair as Austin led her toward the bedroom. Fuck, he deserved to be shut out. Austin would make sure April would be treated right.

Austin glanced over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

* * *

April drew in a deep breath as she followed Austin into the bedroom. Her body was still quivering from the intense orgasm Quinn had given her. It was exhilarating that he’d wanted her so badly he’d taken her against the door in a primal explosion of passion.

Now it was Austin’s turn to make love to her. As he led her across the bedroom, she became self-conscious that she was naked and he was fully clothed. Then she saw a powder-pink box on the bed, bound with a white satin ribbon and a beautiful tied bow.

“Open it,” Austin said.

She walked to the bed and pulled the ribbon to untie the bow, then lifted the top off the box. She pulled back the pink tissue paper to reveal a sexy, white lace baby doll nightie.

“Put it on,” Austin urged.

“Really?” She turned to him and grinned. “I’m naked and you want me to put clothes on?”

Austin placed the bridal bouquet on the bed, then lifted the small garment from the delicate paper and held it up. It was fastened together at the front with a tied ribbon between the breasts.

“It’s not like it’s going to cover much,” he said as he ran his hand under the sheer lace.

He untied the bow on the front, then held the nightie by the shoulder straps as if holding a coat for her to put on.

She laughed. “Okay.”

She slid her arms through the straps, then adjusted it over her breasts and tied the ribbon into a bow again. It was open down the front, the soft lace fabric curving down to her hips in cascading waves. The fabric over her breasts wasn’t lace but a completely sheer white fabric showing her nipples clearly. She pulled on the tiny thong, which had scalloped lace around the waist, but the crotch was also completely sheer.

“How did this get here?” she asked.

“I made a quick call to the concierge right after our wedding,” Quinn answered. “You didn’t have a white bridal gown, so I wanted you to have something to make