Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem (85 page)

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs before lowering his mouth and softly kissing my lips, his tongue tracing the outline of my mouth before making its way inside to seek mine. If this is his form of torture, then I will willingly give myself up to him. This man owns me body, heart and soul and with kisses like this, when he slowly and surely claims every part of my mouth, he’s proving just how much he knows it.

I moan into his mouth which just seems to spur him on, and soon we’re all hands and thrusts as I tangle my fingers into his hair, marveling at how soft the strands feel against my skin. He suddenly pushes himself off me, standing in front of me with his arms out. Unable to resist, I look down and grin at his tented sweats. I prop myself up on my elbows and slowly peruse his body until my eyes meet his.

“You sure you want to stop, Superman? Because it seems that one of your super parts has other ideas.”

He snorts and smiles before snaking his hands around my chest and pulling me up against him, pushing said hard super part against me. “I can wait. What I really want is you, naked, and on your knees. Isn’t that what you promised this afternoon?” His voice is low and gravelly, giving away just how turned on he is. It’s one thing that I’ve marveled at the longer we’ve been together. The little nuances you learn about your significant other as more time passes. Like how Daniel loves, and I mean
loves,
morning head, how his voice drops an octave when something really affects him, and how a thorough and spine-tingling kiss from me can make any annoyance he might have melt away. Right now, he’s horny as fuck and a rabid Daniel is hot as hell.

Time to poke the bear.

“I did promise you that didn’t I?” I take a shaky step sideways, spinning his body around as I move around him. Stopping when his back is to the bed, I cup his jaw and gently lick his lips, dragging my hands down his chest to his sweats and easing a hand underneath the waistband, gasping in delight when I feel skin and nothing else. His fingers dig into my hips as I find my favorite super part.

Superman came prepared I see.

Thrusting into my hand as I tighten my grip around his girth, I stroke up and down his hard as steel cock, matching the rhythm of my tongue as it rolls against his, our mouths fused together in a battle for supremacy.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs against my lips as his hands trail back to cup my ass.

“Yes, you are,” I reply back as I pull my hand out of his pants and push them down. “I need you naked. Now.”

“Not gonna say no, gorgeous. But I need you naked too, especially if we’re gonna have crazy monkey sex.”

“Hmm, mac-robatics and monkey sex. Things could get messy.”

“Messy is good. Messy is fun. Messy means we’ll be too tired and worn out to give a shit.”

“Exactly,” I say before pulling my dress up my body and over my head. He quickly moves to copy me, reaching behind his neck and pulling off his tee in one clean swoop before opening his eyes to find me standing before him in nothing but a hot pink bra and panty set.

“Damn,” he says to the roof. “Thank you, God.”

“I think you should be thanking Victoria’s Secret, not God, but we’ll go with it.” I wink as I reach behind my back and try to undo my bra, struggling to look sexy as I struggle with the clasp.

Daniel cups his hands on my shoulders and turns me, moving my hands out of the way and expertly removing my bra, trailing his hands down my bare arms as he moves the straps out of the way. I tremble under his touch as he lowers his mouth to my neck and sucks my skin lightly, soothing the slight sting away with his tongue and sending waves of pleasure straight to my hoo-ha.

“And the panties … shall I help you with those too?”

“Fuck yes, especially if you’re going to pay my ass the same treatment as my neck.”

“That can be arranged.”

He does as requested and just as before, my hoo-ha receives the same very welcome messages. Gently grazing his teeth against my ass cheek while he drags my lace panties down my legs, he trails his fingers back up the inside of my calves and then my thighs. Brushing over my slit, he gently parts me and finding my clit before lazily stroking me until I’m a squirming, panting mess.

“Wasn’t I supposed to be on my knees?”

“You were, weren’t you? I think I like this just as much, but as you wish.” With one last hard bite of my ass, making me yelp in shock, he stands up in front of me, hands up in surrender. “I’m all yours, gorgeous.”

I smirk. “That you are. Now, I think you need to lie down.” I lift my hands to his shoulders and shove him firmly, watching him fall on his back onto the mattress, his legs spread either side of mine as I stand between them, looking down as his cock jerks in response.

Lowering myself to my knees, I look up at him as he lifts his head and watches me through heat filled eyes. I lean forward and lick a trail from balls to tip, circling the head before repeating the torturous journey, for both me and him, back down again. The groan I hear lets me know he’s feeling this just as much as I am.

Not breaking eye contact, I roll the head of his cock around my tongue, wrapping my lips around him as I suck firmly, then release him, smacking my wet lips together. “You know, this reminds me of the first night we had sex.”

“Really? I remember that night
very
well. You were just as hot and just as talented with your mouth.”

“Was I?” I ask as I dip my mouth and take his full length into my mouth, feeling him at the back of my throat before pulling back again.

“Oh fuck, yes … I thought I’d come so fucking … fast with you sucking me off and playing with yourself … God … took all my self-control to stop long enough to bury myself inside you …” His words heat my body like wildfire, his voice so fucking sexy I’m thinking of fast-forwarding past foreplay and diving straight into the monkey sex part of the evening.

But before I can contemplate my next action, I’m whipped back up on my feet and gently pushed backwards by the shoulders, landing with a soft thud on the bed. With the grace of an Olympic high diver and the desperation of a dog in heat, Daniel falls face-first between my legs, his mouth latching onto my pussy like a sex-starved man (and we all know that he may be many things, but Superman is
not
deprived by any stretch of the imagination.)

Soon enough, in a speed that only Daniel plus copious amounts of alcohol can ensure, I’m screaming out praise to the good Lord above as I experience one of the BEST drunken orgasms known to man (or in this case, woman). I kid you not, I see stars, colors, and feel my entire body levitate all at once, and that was just the first climax. As he tends to do, Daniel doesn’t ease up on his worshipping of my snatch. He invites his fingers to the party, and when combined with his lips wrapped around my clit and the scraping of his teeth against my skin, I scream out again, my head spinning and twirling like a possessed woman overdosing on Viagra.

“Fuck. Me,” I say, my boneless body lying splayed, sated and soft on the bed.

“Gladly,” Daniel says hoarsely as he suddenly appears over and above me, plunging his cock inside of me in one hard jolt, causing my head to lift suddenly, connecting with his top jaw and the unmistakable sound of

1. A formerly perfect smile.

2. My forehead as it meets the aforementioned perfect smile.

3. My dreams of having the world’s prettiest wedding photos crashing down to Earth with a huge nuclear bang.

“Happy”

Daniel

“Daddy has a boo boo, Riley,” I say to my overly inquisitive daughter as she admires the healing cut on my lip, and wouldn’t you know it, she melts my heart by leaning forward from her favorite perch on my lap and placing a sloppy, yet thankfully soft, kiss on my lips. Sitting back on her butt, she gives me a huge toothy smile and claps her hands in glee before clambering down onto the floor of the living room and toddling off to sit beside her brother who is playing with his wooden truck and blocks on the floor in front of us.

It’s now Saturday, a week before the wedding. A week after the orgasm from heaven that turned into the orgasm from hell. Mac’s hard head meeting my teeth and jaw, resulting in a broken front tooth and a cracked counterpart. Two porcelain veneers and a shit load of money later, my smile is as good as new.

The resulting cut on my bottom lip didn’t require stitches, but it was swollen as fuck until a few days ago. I’m just lucky I could check in with the dentist straight away to repair the damage of what we now refer to as the ‘drunken sexing’ incident. There should be a warning on liquor bottles. ‘Drink and screw at your own peril.’ At least it was a fun, if not extremely painful, experience.

I lean back and turn the television up, scanning through the channels until I find the baseball game replay.

Mac is at her final dress fitting with our moms and Kate. As her stress levels increase, I keep having to remind myself that there is just one week to go until we can return to our previous stress-free existence. Well, relatively stress free. Fittings, tastings, venue visits and last minute checks and both of our families are a mixture of excited and exhausted.

What I’m most looking forward to is having Mac all to myself afterwards. Our honeymoon in Cabo San Lucas, sans kids, is going to be one of the highlights of our year. I love Jared and Riley to the moon and back, but those two kids are the world’s best cock blockers. But even beyond that, away from Chicago, just the two of us, we’re going to be starting the next part of our lives. The part where Mac knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m hers for life, and vice versa.

And let’s face it, Mac in a bikini in the hot Mexican sun, or better still,
not
wearing anything at all for seven days, total and unadulterated bliss.

I just hope I survive long enough to make it to my wedding.

Speaking of which, I pick up my phone and dial Noah’s number. “Hey, Taylor.”

“Hey, is there some best man duty I missed out on?”

I chuckle. Surprisingly, Noah has taken his role very seriously since I asked him. My brother is overseas, and the last update we had was that he was stuck in New Zealand, so Noah was the obvious choice.

“You’re fine. Well, you won’t be soon. You need to tell Mac, Noah.”

There’s an awkward silence over the phone filled with guilt and foreboding. “Uh, yeah. You sure you want me to do that?”

“If you want Nikki at the wedding as your plus one, you have to tell Mac. I’m not causing a shit storm a week before my wedding with my future wife who is well overdue for a freakout.”

“But they’re so entertaining,” he comments offhandedly.

“Taylor,” I growl. “You need to call her and make sure she’s okay with it. ’Cause if you don’t, and she gets pissed off when you turn up to the wedding with
my
ex-girlfriend, you’ll be answering to me. Nothing, and I mean
nothing
will ruin what should be the best day of Mac’s life. She deserves this. She’s earned this. If she’s not happy, I’m not happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, man. I’ll call her once I get off shift. A few hours tops.”

“You better. You remember you’ve gotta go pick up our suits this week, right?”

“Yep. All organized. Rings, Suit, beer. We’ll be sweet for Saturday. You nervous? Cold feet?”

“Nope. They’re tropical. But fix this with Mac if you want there to
be
a wedding.”

“Fuck, man. You’re starting to sound like a chick.”

“Whatever. See you Friday at the dinner, if you’re still alive that is.” I end the call, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.

If anything, at least my day is about to get interesting.

Mac

Two glasses of wine, and half an hour standing like a plastic mannequin being poked and prodded by the dressmaker as I have my final dress fitting, and you’d think I’d be agitated. But I’m not. I’m on cloud fucking nine.

With the moms and Kate, we’ve had the trial run for our hair, a boozy lunch, and now our final dress fittings for the ‘wedding of the year’ as my mother-in-law is calling it. I’m relaxed, happy to be sharing this experience with the three important women in my life, and wishing the next week to fly by.

Everything is arranged: the church, the reception, the rehearsal dinner, the flowers, the cake, the ceremony, the suits, the kids, and finally, my dress.

“Where’s my bra?” Kate shrieks from the dressing room at the back of the shop.

“You can’t wear a bra with your dress. When we changed the straps you had a VBL, so we decided you had to go without.”

“Where was I when this happened?”

“Probably drunk,” I mutter under my breath.

“I heard that!”

“I know. I wanted you too!” I retort with a smirk.

“What’s a VBL?” Daniel’s mother Jenny asks, her face perplexed. “I’ve heard of a lot of things,
especially
with Makenna as a daughter in law, but never VBL.”

My mom, bless her cotton socks, leans over the couch and places her hand on Jenny’s forearm. “Visible breast line.”

“Bra line, mom. Bra line. No one says breasts anymore. Boobs, jugs, tits, knockers, sweater puppies, hooters, the twins, traffic lights, bazoongas. Boobs, mom.” A lifetime of freakouts has made me an expert of holding my breath and speaking quickly.

The moms start hooting with laughter, and Kate and I join them. I realize how ridiculous my rant sounded. Anyone would think we were a bunch of giggling teenage girls laughing about boys.

“Turn around, Makenna,” instructs the dressmaker. I spin around and freeze in place as I see the whole package in the floor to ceiling mirror.

The whole damn package.

Dress, hair, everything. Holy fuck, I’m getting married.

My eyes go wide as I catch Kate’s face behind me. Her eyes glisten with tears as she covers her mouth with her hand and just stares at me. It’s a look of shock and awe. Worried that something is wrong with me, I look at the moms who are both dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs that I didn’t know middle-aged women even carried around anymore.