372

“Who’s pretty?” Robert appears in the doorway, then blinks at our younger child. “Ah, Brandon. That’s an interesting look on you, son.”

I toss my mate a dirty look. “You’re late. Harry’s freaking out. Aisha has called at least ten times to remind you not to forget the rings.”

I hear a barking sound, and I stop what I’m doing. “Where are Mano and Zeno?”

“With Mrs. Mallory. She’s in her sewing room. Should I check on them?”

I shake my head. “Nope. No time. She knows how to handle them. I can’t believe at their ages the two of them are still fighting.”

“It’s not fighting.” Robert looks amused. “Ever since the kittens grew up, Mano has adopted Zeno as her own. She likes to randomly discipline him.”

I wipe down Brandon’s face. “Go. We’re leaving in one minute.”

He runs off, and I’m about to follow him when my mate blocks my path, a rather lecherous gleam in his eyes. “Oh, I think we’re going to be a little late. That’s a very pretty dress.”

I know exactly what he’s up to, but I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t even think about it. We have to get going.”

Robert shuts the bathroom door, trapping us inside. His eyes take in my emerald dress, and he approaches me, whispering, “Just a kiss.”

Giggling, I try to avoid his hold. “It’s never just a kiss. I’m convinced you enjoy making me late to events. You pulled the same thing last year at Ricky and Jazz’s wedding. We nearly missed the ceremony!”

“How do you expect me to keep my hands off you when you look so beautiful?” Robert counters. “It’s not fair.”

I gape at him. “So this is my fault, then, is it?”

Robert lowers his head till his lips hover over mine, and he says heatedly, “I should think so.”

“Just one kiss?” I ask, doubtfully.

“Just one kiss,” he lies, smoothly.

His mere touch is enough to set me on fire, and his kiss has me melting. There’s nothing chaste about it, a clash of tongues and teeth and lips, as he devours me like a starving man. His hand covers my chest, sliding down my stomach until he reaches the slit in my dress. It doesn’t take him long to force my legs apart and glide his fingers in. My pussy is already wet, waiting for him. The squelching sound fills the air as he loosens me up with his fingers, inserting one after another, till he has four thick digits inside me. I toss my head back, panting and moaning.

“We don’t have time,” I whine, my hips moving in rhythm to his fingers.

“I know,” he whispers, his eyes on my face as he draws out an orgasm so skillfully.

“My dress!” I moan, my inside convulsing.

“Don’t worry.” His laughter makes my nipples harden into painful points. I rub them, only for him to bat away my hands. My dress’s straps come down, and he teases me, sucking and nipping, driving me wild. His fingers are no longer toying with my pussy, but I can feel the juices slide down the inside of my leg as my lower muscles clench in need.

I’m leaning back against the sink, my breasts out as Robert plays with them. One of his legs is inserted between mine, and he rubs the coarse material of his pants against my most sensitive area. I finally break.

“Robert. Fuck me, already! Please!”

His sly grin tells me he wanted me to beg all along.

He turns me around, bends me over the sink, and hikes up my dress. I hear the sound of his zipper lowering, and then he murmurs, “You’ll have to ask for it. Politely.”

“This is no time for games, Robert.” I frown, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He raises his brows. “Fine. No cock for you.”

He moves to pull up his zipper, and I quickly say, “Robert!”

“Yes, Charlotte?” The smirk on his face would be annoying if I didn’t find it so hot.

“Will you fuck me with your cock?” As an afterthought, I add, “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says with a dramatic flourish.

My laugh turns into a groan as he holds my legs apart and slides into me.

“There’s something about having you bent over a surface while wearing heels,” he whispers. “Makes me want to turn that ass red.”

I can’t speak. My mouth parts as he screws me with long deep strokes, robbing me of my ability to think. I try to keep my voice down, well aware that we’re not alone in the house. Robert helps with that, slapping his hand across my mouth as I’m about to scream out. My back arches as he pushes me over the edge. Not one second later, I feel him release within me.

I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Let me catch my breath. You’re so dead.”

My husband and mate grins.

******

“What happened to your green dress?” Jazz asks as I sit beside her, the ceremony about to begin.

“Robert happened to it,” I mutter.

She snickers. “Planning baby number three already?”

“Why don’t you worry about your own baby? When’s he due?”

“Three months.” Jazz pats her rounded stomach. “Ricky’s a mess. He built half the nursery and then abandoned that to baby-proof the house. He and my dad are driving themselves crazy. Dad wants to move in so he can help out more. I said no, but Ricky agreed.”

I laugh at the helpless frustration on her face. “I understand. But this is your first pregnancy, and it’s nice that your Dad likes Ricky and the feeling is mutual.”

“Ever since he retired, he’s been spending loads of time with Ricky. My husband has scammed my father into adopting three dogs, six cats, and a peacock.”

“At least he’s busy,” I pat her shoulder. “How are things at the cafe?”