Page 24 of The Game

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Please,” she mews, and my cock strains against the zipper of my pants.

How is it possible to get harder? Each movement and sound she makes has me losing all semblance of control. My fingers reach the apex, and there’s no barrier between us. My eyes widen. “No panties?”

“How am I supposed to wear panties in this dress?” Her hips wiggle on the leather seat.

“Makes sense.” I slip my finger inside her molten center, and she gasps. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“God, yes.”

“How good?” I growl in her ear and thrust deeper inside her pussy. The sound of her wetness sucking at my fingers fills the interior of my vehicle.

“So, good.” Her eyelids are closed, and she grinds against the palm of my hand.

For the love of God, she’s so fucking hot. The fact I’m fingerfucking her when my entire family is gathered for a wedding is not lost on me. I haven’t been this keyed up about a woman since I was fourteen years old and jacking off to a porn video.

I slip my thumb over her clit, and she moans with pleasure, “God, yes.”

My entire body tightens. Don’t cum in a four thousand-dollar Italian suit. I curl my fingers and slash against her G spot. Her breath is hot against my neck. Fuck. I’ve got to kiss her. To feel those plump lips against mine as she screams my name.

With my free hand, I cup the back of her head and smash my mouth against hers. Each lunge of my fingers inside her pussy earns me a hitch of her breath. I suck each one down like it’s the essence of my survival. And, at this moment – it is. Giving her pleasure is my only purpose.

I thrust against her tongue with the same rhythm I slip into her sex. Her response to me is pure heaven. When her legs tremble, she arches against me, and I know she’s close. “Cum, baby. Just for me,” I ground out against her lips.

“Oh, fuck, Gunner,” she moans, and her entire body convulses against me. Pure, unadulterated heaven. I smile as I dive into her pulsating pussy. I love the feel of her body clutching me like she’s holding on for dear life.

Chapter Thirteen

Dani

The minister pronounces the bride and groom, husband and wife, and they face the crowd to a swell of cheering and delight. What in the hell am I doing here?

By the time I was able to look Gunner in the face after his delicious onslaught of my sex, we had five minutes to get inside the church. We barely made it to our seats before the Wedding March began.

We’ve spent the last hour standing, sitting, praying, and singing in a gorgeous sanctuary filled with oak wooden pews and stained-glass windows. The entire time, I’ve been waiting for lightning to strike or someone to stand in front of the congregation and announce a harlot is in their midst.

It doesn’t help everyone is staring at us. For some dumb reason, I failed to calculate how much attention Gunner would garner, even amongst his own family.

In unison, the crowd stands and watches as the couple marches down the aisle with the rest of the wedding party in tow.

As one of the bridesmaids nears the last row where we are positioned, she waggles her eyebrows and winks at Gunner. Shit. Is that her? He didn’t say she was part of the wedding party.

The woman is stunning. She has lush black hair, which is coiled into an updo with wisps cascading down from its restraints. Her eyes are almond-shaped, and her complexion is perfect with a kiss of her summer tan still caressing her flesh.

Damn it. I’m a total three, and she’s a twelve and a half. What am I doing making out with Gunner? He could have any woman in the city panting after him.

When the usher reaches our row, Gunner nudges me with his elbow and leans down, “Go on.”

I shudder. Stop it. Don’t get all weak in the knees over him. He’s probably fooled around with countless women in his vehicle. It doesn’t mean he’s going to ask me to marry him. I stumble on my heel and bite back a curse.

Gunner grasps my upper arm and holds me steady. God, I’m sweating. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Be careful.” He lets go of my arm and places his hand in the middle of my back. The pressure is so light I can barely feel him, but I know he’s there. The heat from his fingertips burns into my flesh.

I swallow as we approach the wedding party. All of them could be models in magazines. As I grasp each of their hands, I express my congratulations, and they dismiss me to fawn over Gunner. Even though he’s all man, he’s the belle of the ball.

When I reach the stunning woman that was leering at Gunner, she grabs me in a bear hug. “Damn, you’re a fox.”

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