Vegas, Baby : Volume 1, page 19
“Angling for another spanking, baby?” I murmured.
Her brown eyes turned molten, and her cheeks bloomed with pink. Later couldn’t come fast enough.
“Kids are with your sister, and everyone is gone,” I declared when I walked into the kitchen later that night. “Let’s go.”
Belle looked up from the large center island where she was packing away what was left of the cake. “Patience, Griff. I need to—” she broke off with a yelp when I ignored her protest and threw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“What you need is to get naked and let the birthday boy play with his favorite toys.”
Belle giggled and slapped my ass. “I don’t want the cake to dry out!”
I halted and twirled around, keeping her steady with a hand on her butt. “No problem,” I assured her. I grabbed the plate of sugary goodness and pivoted once more, heading straight to our bedroom. “I’ll make sure it’s all gone by the time I’ve finished licking it off of you.”
Once we reached the master suite, I made a beeline for the bed and tossed her onto it. She laughed as she bounced, and I had to stop for a second and admire the view before me. Belle was wearing shorts and a white tank that had a purple stain from Brand dripping grape juice on it. There was frosting on her cheek, and her hair was falling out of the ponytail she’d thrown it in when it got really hot that afternoon.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I breathed. “You get even more gorgeous every fucking day.”
Belle’s expression softened, but she chuckled ruefully. “I’m a mess!”
“Gorgeous,” I disagreed with a tone that indicated I couldn’t be swayed to believe otherwise. “Now, where’s that present?”
I looked around and spotted it on the dresser across the room. Glancing back at her as I walked over to it, I demanded, “Strip, baby. Time for your birthday spanking.”
“How come I’m always the one getting birthday spankings, no matter whose birthday it is?” she grumbled.
I retrieved the gift and headed back to her, grinning wolfishly. “Because I enjoy putting my mark on your pretty white ass.”
Belle huffed and gestured to the box in my hand. “Open your present, caveman.”
By the time I was back at the bed and sitting beside her, I’d already torn off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a small, plain, cream-colored card on top of black tissue paper. On the backside of the card was a simple, “Happy Birthday. I love you. Belle.” Then I noticed the small script at the bottom. “I suggest you hide this present where no one else will find it so I don’t have to help you hide any dead bodies.” Hard laughter burst from my chest, making me gasp for air. Adorable.
“I’m glad you think so, but I was being completely serious,” Belle quipped, making me realize I’d said it out loud.
Setting the card aside, I continued to chuckle as I lifted the black paper away, revealing a leather album. My curiosity was definitely piqued. I pushed all of the other stuff off of the bed and set the book in my lap before opening it to the first page.
My breath whooshed from my lungs, and I nearly came right then and there.
The first page was a picture of my wife wearing nothing. Well, almost nothing. She was sitting on the ground with my new guitar strategically placed in her lap. The next page was a similar photo in another pose.
“Aurora hired a new photographer for the chapel, and she also does boudoir shoots.”
I could barely tare my eyes away from the photos to glance up at her. “Baby, these are amazing.” I gave her a lopsided grin. “That guitar looks a fuck of a lot better in your hands than it ever will in mine. And you’re right, if anyone besides me ever sees these, they won’t live to tell about it.” I went back to flipping the pages as I teased, “But I’ll get Knox to help so I’m not implicated.”
A large part of me was clamoring to pounce on Belle and sate the beast only she could unleash inside me. But a stronger part, the one that was ruled by love rather than lust, was determined to take my time, to admire the incredible gift my wife had given me. She’d obviously put a lot of time and effort into it, and I wanted her to know what they meant to me.
When I turned the second to last page, I noticed something different. Belle was a ways away, sitting with her back facing the camera and her hands buried in her hair, holding it all up so it was piled on top of her head.
Several years ago, Belle had surprised me by having my name and Cyra’s inked on the back of her neck. After Brand was born, she’d added his name to the list. I’d kissed that spot so many times, there was no way I could have missed the fact that it suddenly looked different. I bent close and stared hard. It looked like there was more writing.
“Turn the page, Griffith,” she said softly. I did as she asked. The last picture was a close-up, so it was easy to read the script.
Griffith
Cyra
Brand
Jude
My mouth dropped open, and I twisted around to see Belle sitting naked in the same position as the photo, her slender neck on display. “Jude?” I croaked. We’d talked about that name…because it worked for either a boy or a girl…I swallowed hard. “Baby, are you pregnant?”
She dropped her hair and faced me, a luminous smile gracing her face. “Surprise!” I was so shocked; I didn’t even get distracted by her naked tits swaying when she moved. Mostly. “We’re having a baby! It was so hard not to tell you. I wouldn’t have been able to hide it except this baby doesn’t seem to make me throw up as often as the other two and—” Her rambling stopped when my mouth crashed down on hers.
Only a few minutes later, we were both naked, and I was buried deep inside my incredible wife. I set her astride me so I could watch her ride, her big tits bouncing, her hair floating all around her. I placed a palm over her belly and surged up as she came down. I didn’t know what it was about fucking her while she was knocked up. It was like a primal instinct, knowing I’d bred my woman, it drove me wild and tossed all of my control out the window.
“Fuck, baby,” I groaned. She was always tight, but I could’ve sworn that when she was pregnant, it was almost like she was a virgin every time. “Your pussy is like a fucking vice.”
“So good, Griffith,” Belle moaned as she began to gyrate above me.
I sat up and took one of her nipples in my mouth. The memory of how they tasted when she was feeding our babies caused come to leak from my dick. I loved on her other breast for a minute, mumbling, “I love sucking these fat nipples when you’re dripping with milk. I can’t wait to taste all that sweetness again.”
Belle shuddered, and her inner walls started to spasm. Suddenly, I lifted her off my cock and brought her up so that she was sitting on my face. I swiped my hand over the cake sitting on the table beside us and smeared it all over her pussy. All it took was a couple of licks and a hard suck on her clit to set her off. She cried out my name over and over as I ate up every bit of the sweet dessert, made only more delicious from her own honeyed taste.
I worked her up until she was on the edge again, then flipped her to her side and scooted over until my front was plastered to her back. I hooked one of her legs back over mine, opening her wide and thrust deep inside her. I set a hard and fast pace, but when I moved her hair away and saw the tattoo, something inside me melted and our movements became less frantic. I kissed each name as I made love to her. I slid my hand over her belly, resting my palm there and whispering how much I adored her, our kids, our life. Telling her how happy I was about the new baby.
Belle’s back bowed a heartbeat before she fell apart. Her pussy clamped down on my cock and dragged me with her. Her name erupted from my mouth with a roar as I poured everything I had into her.
The frantic feeling returned, and I rolled us over so that she was on her stomach. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh, fuck, yeah!” I started pounding in and out, hard and fast. “One more, baby,” I growled. In a flash, we were both coming again.
I was practically drowning in the tumultuous waves of bliss crashing over me. Breathing was a struggle, but the nirvana I was experiencing kept me from giving a single fuck.
When we finally began to float back down to earth, we fell into an exhausted, sweaty heap. I held her close, my hand brushing up and down her back, occasionally tracing the names on her skin.
“I love you,” Belle whispered.
“Baby, love isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel for you.”
She snuggled back into me and since I was still inside her, my dick started to stir. I groaned. “You need to be still. I don’t have the energy to fuck you again.”
Belle snorted, and I smiled into her hair. “Liar.”
I lifted my head and grinned devilishly down at her. “Maybe you’re right. Besides, I still owe you a birthday spanking.”
Ariel’s story, Baby Cakes, is already available! And Knox is up next in Baby, I Do!
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Baby, I Do Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Aurora
I loved weddings. The blushing brides, handsome grooms, and especially, the way they looked at each other. The flashy rings, beautiful flowers, and decadent cakes. I basically loved everything about them, which was a good thing since I lived and breathed weddings pretty much twenty-four seven.
When my older brother asked my younger sisters and me if we’d be interested in opening a wedding chapel inside the Lennox, the hottest resort on the Vegas strip, I leapt at the chance. Knox knew we’d be a perfect fit for the business that his boss, Drew Lennox, wanted to add to the property. Ariel was a whiz with cakes, Belle lived for flowers, and I was the type-A personality out of the bunch of us who kept everyone organized.
Running the Chapel of Dreams wasn’t just my job—it was a dream come true. I loved coming into work every day, knowing that I was going to be a part of one of the most important days in a couple’s life. Giving them the perfect wedding gave me a sense of accomplishment that had me grinning whenever I was at work...except for those rare instances when I wished the couple in question had picked a different chapel because they were unworthy of that perfection. Like the bride and groom who were getting ready to walk down the aisle of my chapel right now.
“You two make a cute couple,” I lied, infusing my tone with as much sincerity as I could muster up.
The guy was actually a douche bag. It wasn’t like I was going to say that in front of the bride, though. She must’ve seen something in him that she loved since she’d accepted his marriage proposal, after all. She’d been the one who made the arrangements with me, and all he’d done when he came in with her today for their ceremony was complain about the cost.
It wasn’t like she had even bought our most expensive package, not even close since we had some which were tailored to the rich and famous and had the price tag to match. She’d added some of our most popular bells and whistles—like limousine service before and after the ceremony, live streaming of the service for friends and family to watch, and a few of our keepsakes—but she hadn’t gone overboard. And, it was my understanding that she was footing the entire bill—or at least her parents were. None of that had stopped him from bitching and moaning right up until they stood in front of our officiant, though.
I hurried to gather their marriage certificate, DVD of the ceremony, and keepsakes because I wanted them on their way before I said something I’d regret. As I was tucking everything into their bag, the groom—and I used that term loosely—turned to his new wife and joked, “Getting married in Vegas was smart, baby. If we wake up tomorrow morning and decide that we hate being married, we can always get a quickie divorce at that place we saw just around the corner.”
My head jerked up as the bride exclaimed, “What? How could you even say that?”
I waited for him to try to smooth things over with his wife before asking, “What divorce place?”
“Right before the limo dropped us off, there was an awning over a storefront around the corner for a divorce lawyer who specializes in quickie divorces,” the bride answered, elbowing her hubby in the side. “I should’ve known better than to point it out to this one since he has the worst sense of humor ever.”
“You know I like to get you worked up, baby,” he muttered.
When she cooed back at him, all lovey-dovey, I handed her the bag and wished them well. As soon as the door closed behind them, I dropped down onto my chair and narrowed my eyes as I powered up my computer to do a little digging before my next couple showed up.
Who in the hell would open a legal office specializing in divorce just around the corner from one of the most popular wedding chapels in town? It was so rude! I was really bothered by the idea of my clients driving right past an awning like that, but I couldn’t seem to find anything online before my last clients for the night walked in.
By the time they were finished—after a wedding where Ariel, Belle, and I had outdone ourselves—I was exhausted. It wasn’t until I was back home and in bed that I started to stew over that office specializing in divorces again. “If I ever meet that damn lawyer,” I grumbled as I punched my pillow and tried to get comfortable.
I spent most of the night tossing and turning, which I blamed on whatever jack-hole had decided to rain on my parade by opening a business so close to us that was the direct opposite of the Chapel of Dreams. But at least I’d dreamed up some inventive ways to make them pay by the time I had to get up and head out the door.
After stopping to grab my favorite coffee concoction and treating myself to a slice of pumpkin loaf and a cake pop for later, I was finally able to get myself into a semi-decent mood while I was on my way work. Only it didn’t last long because I spotted the sign the douchebag from last night had mentioned. There it was, bold as brass, offering quickie divorces after quickie weddings. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt like I was going to puke when I saw one of the couples who’d gotten married at my chapel yesterday walking inside.
“Oh, hell no!” I pounded my fist against my steering wheel before swerving to the right to nab a spot about fifty feet down the street and hopping out of my car. I was steaming mad when I stormed into the office only about a minute behind two people who’d promised to love each other for the rest of their lives, right in front of my eyes, not even a full day ago.
Their eyes rounded in shock when they recognized me, before their heads dropped to stare at the floor. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I might’ve taken the time to enjoy the fact that they at least felt guilty for me seeing them there. But they weren’t the root of my problem.
Turning to the guy manning the front desk, I quickly dismissed him as the person I needed to vent at because he looked like he’d maybe graduated from college a minute ago. He definitely wasn’t old enough to have gone through law school, pass the bar, and open a law office of his own. “Where’s your boss?”
“He’ll be out in a second. Were you hoping to speak with him about getting a divorce?” the guy asked, pointing over my shoulder towards the newlyweds who were already regretting their marriage. “If so, you’ll have to wait because they’re up next.”
I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers to emphasize the absence of a ring. “No, I’d need to have a husband if I wanted to get divorced...which would never happen because I believe in marriage being forever. Unlike your boss, whose life’s work appears to be offering people an easy way out of their marriage.”
“I—Um—” the poor guy sputtered.
“It’s okay, Chad. I’ve got this.”
My head whipped in the direction of that deep, masculine voice. In my anger, it took me a moment to recognize how shockingly handsome the man walking towards me was. He had golden blond hair that looked like he’d just run his fingers through it, dark green eyes, and dimples that popped in his cheeks when he flashed me a charming grin. He was adorably nerdy, with a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. But he was also muscular. And hot as hell.
My long-dormant libido chose that moment to roar to life, but I wasn’t going to let my vagina make my decisions for me—not with this guy anyway. He was the enemy, no matter how attracted to him I was. And he was a bad choice, too. Because no way would a guy who specialized in divorces be interested in giving me happily ever after. What a waste.
About the Author
The writing duo of Elle Christensen and Rochelle Paige team up under the Fiona Davenport pen name to bring you sexy, insta-love stories filled with alpha males. If you want a quick & dirty read with a guaranteed happily ever after, then give Fiona Davenport a try!
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Fiona Davenport, Vegas, Baby : Volume 1
