He wrapped his arm around her waist when they called for cutting the cake. “Are you having fun?”
“Way too much. I think I need to stop drinking. You’re drinking mostly water while I’m actually having screaming orgasms. They’ve become my favorite drink.”
He wished he could drink screaming orgasms with her, but he had work later on and he wanted her to enjoy her night. More than that, he wanted to make certain he could perform at his best. She wasn’t going to be able to say he drank too much and couldn’t fuck. Hell, he could do that drunk or not with her.
Her eyes were bright, shining at him with laughter. That mouth of hers—he was never going to be able to look at her again without needing to kiss her or slide his cock in that warm haven.
Ice found he needed to touch her. Every time she’d moved away from him, talking to one of his brothers or playing darts with Alena, he’d found himself slipping back into the abyss. It was cold and dark, that black hole. Touching her warm skin somehow created a way for him to feel sunlight again. It wasn’t real. He knew that. It was the night. Their night. All about the fantasy.
Later, after he took her back to the motel and fucked her brains out, he had work to do. The kind of work a man with ice in his veins and a glacier where his soul should be did. He glanced at his watch and then at Savage. Savage barely moved, his nod nearly imperceptible. Ice glanced at Maestro. He gave Ice a faint grin and pointed to his watch.
“You don’t have to go this time,” Storm said. “I’ll take your place.”
Ice shook his head. “I pulled the straw, I do the work. Besides, you’re going to make certain my wife doesn’t wake up and make a run for it.” It was stupid crazy, but he fucking loved saying “my wife.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was sipping at a drink, her gaze fixed on the dartboard as Absinthe threw his darts and hit three seventeens right in a row. Soleil put her drink down, gave him a smile and stepped up, darts in hand. She looked so coolly confident, Ice’s body stirred all over again.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Storm demanded.
“I don’t care how it’s done, but she doesn’t leave,” he said, meaning it. “You make sure of that for me.”
Storm clapped his brother on the shoulder. “She’ll be there.”
Ice gripped his arm, his show of affection for his brother. At least that was real.
After that, the photographer was gone, the doors to the game room were closed and the party got wild. He was out of control, and Soleil looked beautiful laid out on a pool table for him to feast on. She tasted even better than he remembered. They had to pose for any number of pictures Maestro took for their private wedding album and then he’d had enough. He wanted to be alone with his bride.
Ice wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, declaring to his brethren he wanted his wife to himself. Immediately, because every single one of them knew what was at stake, they prepared to leave. Alena tied up the skirt, and Keys helped Soleil onto Ice’s bike.
Soleil laid her head against his back, her body tight against his while the bike roared to life. Her hands were tight around his waist. He dropped his gloved hand to hers and moved one to his lap, right over his cock. The motorcycle vibrated, sending waves of stimulation through him, adding to the ache in his body. Her hand curved over his cock, and she made a small rubbing motion, in counterpoint to the vibration of his Harley.
He loved riding. It was the only way he felt free. Alive. Alone, or with his brothers surrounding him, hurtling down a highway with the wind on his face had always been the best feeling in the world. Now, that included Soleil snuggled up tightly against him, her tits pressed into his back and her hand making his cock very happy.
The motel was two stories, an L-shaped structure with a fenced-in pool in the middle of the L. Six rooms were right next to one another on the second story, with Ice’s room second to the end. Storm had the end room and Alena was on the other side of Ice. Keys, Absinthe and Code each had a room on the second story as well. The rooms on the first floor were directly under the ones above them. Seven rooms were taken on that floor. The bikes were parked in a row just outside those seven rooms, so they could be watched. Glitch, one of the prospects, had accompanied them, and he also had a room on the second story.
Keys helped Soleil off the bike and she stood close, waiting for Ice. He liked that. She hadn’t even looked at the motel. She clearly had money, but she didn’t seem to care that they were staying not in a suite at one of the most luxurious hotels in Vegas but in a small motel a distance from the strip. The moment he backed the bike into his space, Ice had his arm wrapped around her and was walking her to their room. His brothers gave them some good-natured catcalls, which he replied to with a rude finger gesture over his head.
As they walked up the stairs, he slid one hand under that intriguing layer of chiffon covering her tit. He loved how soft she was, how her nipple was already hard. At the top of the stairs, he put his mouth there, pulling her tit right into his mouth, sucking hard, using his tongue on her nipple, flicking and flattening it to the roof of his mouth before using the edge of his teeth. She gave a little broken cry and cradled his head to her, arching a little to give him more. Her soft moaning nearly drove him wild.
He locked his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against him, forcing her to bend backward just enough for him to have even better access. Everything faded away for him. Everything, until there was only Soleil and her soft body. His demons died down and then stopped tormenting him. He didn’t hear or see anything but her. He didn’t think about enemies or killing or hear the cries of children. There was only Soleil and her gorgeous tits, his fierce cock and the sounds she made filling his mind.
“Get a room,” Storm ordered.
His twin’s voice startled him. He was that far gone, and that had never happened to him before. He reluctantly lifted his head, flipped off his brother and took her straight to the room. The moment the door was closed and locked, he spun her around and very gently unhooked the halter top and let it fall in a graceful shimmy of chiffon and peekaboo down to her waist. His breath caught in his throat. She was truly beautiful. He knew the female form. He’d been introduced to it early and taught to admire and revere it.
“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, I can’t believe it.” He ripped his shirt off with one hand and tossed it aside, his eyes on her breasts, that small rib cage narrowing even more to her waist. The chiffon fell gracefully over the curve of her hips, and he wanted her out of that dress. He wanted to see her body. All of it.
He went to the floor to remove her shoes. He couldn’t help running his hand up and down her calf. Her skin was incredibly soft, even on her legs. He removed the classy heels and dragged the dress down her body. He peeled the peekaboo panties off of her, and without the dress she was entirely naked. His breath caught in his throat. Not only was she an elegant princess, but she had the body of a temptress combined with the innocent look of the proverbial girl next door.