Christian’s slow, answering smile throbbed in my blood. “I changed my mind.”
*
CHRISTIAN
“Oh God.” Stella’s breathless moan sparked in my blood like a flame against gasoline. Her hands tangled in my hair as I hiked her legs higher on my shoulders and gave her clit another long, languorous lick. “We just got started, sweetheart,” I drawled. “This is going to be a long course.” I drew her swollen bud into my mouth and sucked, reveling in the way she shivered and panted around me. I fucking loved eating Stella’s pussy. The taste, the smell, the way she clenched around my fingers when I pumped them inside her and hit that spot. It was the world’s most intoxicating feast. Her cries of pleasure spurred me on as I licked, sucked, and tongued that sweet little cunt until she was dripping all over me, her pretty clit swollen from my attention and her juices slick on my tongue. After a while, I pulled back, my chest heaving as I admired the sight before me. So wet and perfectly prepared for the main event. “Now,” I said. “I’m ready for dessert.” I spread her thighs wider, dipped my head, and devoured her. Stella’s squeals and whimpers escalated into inelegant screams as I alternated between fingering her and worshiping her clit and fucking her with my tongue. Harder, more intense than the first time, like I was dying of thirst in the desert and she was my only source of salvation. “Christian.” My name broke into a sob. She fisted my hair, her muscles taut with desire. “You taste so good.” I buried my nose in her and breathed her in. Her pussy was like the world’s sweetest nectar, and I was ravenous for it. I wanted to drink up every fucking drop and come back for seconds. Thirds.
Fourths. For the rest of fucking time. I would never be able to get enough of her. “Do you want to know what you taste like?” I slid two fingers inside her and lifted my head so I could see her.
Stella gazed down at me, her eyes half-lidded with desire and bright with clear, pure trust. It undid me. My cock was so hard it felt like it would split open from the pressure, but the walls around my heart had crumbled, baring the soft, beating organ to her every whim and desire.
“Like honey and spices.” I pushed my fingers deeper. She was so tight I could feel her stretching around me, inch by inch, until I was knuckles deep inside her. “Like sweetness and sin.” In. Out. Slowly and thoroughly, letting her feel every glide of friction. A full-body shudder rolled through her. “You taste…” I removed my fingers and lowered my head. “Like mine.” A keening cry echoed through the room as Stella’s body bowed off the table. Her muscles went taut, vibrating with the force of her orgasm as she came on my tongue. Desire burned up the
fuel in my veins, but I took my time, leisurely savoring every drop while wave after wave rolled through her. Finally, her cries subsided into a dazed whimper, and she sprawled, loose-limbed and sated, on the table. “My favorite part of the meal,” I said lazily. “You were right.” I gave her clit one final, languid lick. “I just needed to find the right dessert.”
54
STELLA
Alex and Ava’s wedding took place in early October, at a gorgeous vineyard in Vermont.
Stunning red, orange, and yellow foliage transformed the setting into an autumnal fairytale, and the beautiful sky draped over us like a sheet of azure, sun-warmed silk. Bridget, Jules, and I stood on one side of the extravagant floral wedding arch in matching bridesmaid dresses while Alex, Josh, Rhys, and Christian stood on the other. Originally, Alex had wanted no groomsmen other than a best man, but Ava had convinced him otherwise. A rustle of leaves kicked up before the familiar strains of the wedding march filled the air and Ava appeared. I didn’t cry in public often, but moisture prickled my eyes when she walked down the aisle on Ralph’s arm.
Ralph was Alex’s old Krav Maga instructor and the closest Alex and Ava had to a parent these days. They visited him every Thanksgiving, and his face glowed with emotion as if she were his real daughter. “Am I crying?” Jules whispered next to me. “Can’t tell if it’s the wind or not.” “No,”
I said through my smile. I didn’t look at her, afraid any movement would break the well containing my tears. “Am I?” “No…well, a little. But our mascara is waterproof, so it’s okay.”
“Shh,” Bridget hissed. “No one is crying.” She discreetly wiped a tear from her cheek. Ava drew closer. The skirt of her gorgeous mermaid-shaped gown trailed behind her in a cloud of soft tulle, lace, and silk, adorned with ripple-like textures that resembled the crests of ocean waves.
Her face was radiant, her eyes bright and her smile brighter still. She looked so beautiful and happy my chest warmed until I no longer felt the fall chill. Bridget had been the first of my friends to get married, but Ava’s wedding hit on a different level. She and Alex had perhaps the darkest pasts and the rockiest path toward their happily ever after. Seeing them overcome all of that to finally be together was incredible. Across from us, Alex resembled a statue in his stillness. He was always attuned to Ava, but in that moment, he looked at her like the world was the night sky and she was the only star in existence. For once, his eyes weren’t hidden beneath a layer of ice.
Love shone through, so clear and bright it eclipsed the sun. It intensified when Ava reached the altar, and he murmured something that made her cheeks pink with pleasure. Their eyes lingered on each other before they faced the pastor, who began the official ceremony. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate Alex Volkov and Ava Chen in holy matrimony…” While his speech continued, my eyes connected with Christian’s. Our lips curved and our gazes lingered before we turned our attention back to the wedding. The old, insecure me would’ve kept checking to confirm he was still there and that he wasn’t a fantasy I’d concocted. The present me knew he wasn’t. He was real, and no matter what happened, he would always be there.
*
That night’s reception took place in the vineyard’s restaurant, which had been cleared out to make room for a dance floor, two long banquet tables, and a live music stage. Exposed wooden beams crisscrossed the space, lending it an air of rustic charm, but there was nothing rustic about the custom engraved china plates, the fifty thousand dollars worth of luxury floral arrangements, or the world-famous singer crooning onstage. As expected, Alex had spared no expense. “You should’ve asked him for a bathtub of diamonds,” Jules told Ava. “He would’ve made it happen.” Ava had needed a breather from all the mingling required of the bride, so Bridget, Jules, and I had ushered her off to a corner while the rest of the guests drank and danced. “Jules,” Ava said patiently. “What would I do with a bathtub of diamonds at my wedding?” “Roll around it like the rich bitch you are. And I mean that in the most affectionate way.” Jules’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Or you could pass them out to your guests, specifically your wonderful bridesmaids, who very much did not get you into trouble in Barcelona.” I spluttered at the mention of Ava’s bachelorette trip. “Jules.”“What? It was harmless fun. Who knew Alex would get so upset about male strippers? It was a bachelorette party.” “I think it was less the strippers and more the waking up in a strange hotel in Ibiza part,” Bridget said dryly. “I think it was both,” I decided. We’d been fine, but the guys had been less than pleased when they found out about, well, everything. Honestly, they shouldn’t talk after what happened to them and the banana float. “Guys, please.” Ava held up her hand, looking pained. “No diamonds, no Barcelona talk.” “Fine,” Jules grumbled. “But I thought the trip was fun. It was like college again.” “What was like college again?” Alex walked over with Josh, Rhys, and Christian in tow. He kissed Ava’s forehead, and she snuggled into his side, her smile blossoming so wide it made me smile. “Last night,” Bridget said smoothly before Jules could rupture Alex’s artery by mentioning. “Girls’ night in. Just like in college.” “You were talking about Spain, weren’t you?”