Growling, Joker pulled me in, hiking me up over his shoulder while I wrapped my hands around his neck.
We went straight to the bedroom. Before he threw me down on the bed, he grabbed my thigh, sinking his fingers in while our lips collided in yet another hungry kiss.
Fuck, this man. This body. This handsome, broken bastard I'd achingly put back together, piece by piece.
He probably didn't know it, but he'd done the same for me. Months ago, I'd lost everything. He'd given it back, more than I ever dared to imagine.
For now, he gave me something else. I hit the mattress hard, thanking my lucky stars it was comfortable.
“Careful, careful! This dress is just a rental and –“
Rrrrrrrrip. When I turned my head, one strap was hanging, and the other came off. His crazy hands sank underneath the fabric and sheared me like a bear ripping curtains.
He looked up with a wicked smirk on his face. “Babe, I'm sitting pretty with the club getting richer and those fuckin' medical bills paid. I'd lay down a million right now to get you naked.”
How the hell could I argue with that? The raw, greedy tingle in my * wouldn't let me think about it.
I kicked my legs, lifting my butt up in the air when he moved lower, taking away the tatters of my poor wedding dress. At least it would live on in the photographs, a thousand angles captured by the prospects.
“We shouldn't be too loud. Alex just went down a couple minutes ago and we've only got one wall between us. Joker, I –“
His hand went over my mouth. Slowly, he snaked his head up across my cleavage, pouring hot breath as he went, before his lips stopped next to my ear.
“Everything coming outta your mouth's mine tonight, baby girl. Nobody else's. You worry too fuckin' much. It's our wedding night.”
As soon as his hand eased up, his lips were on me again. This time, I surrendered.
He was right. He was gorgeous. And Jesus, he tasted good.
My hands went around his neck, my fingernails gingerly catching the edge of his cut. He kissed me harder, growling into my mouth, overpowering the moan seeping out of me.
Pressing one hand between my legs, his fingers lifted underneath the waistband to my panties. He cupped my mound, squeezed, and I nearly lost it on the spot.
“Oh, God! Jackson!” I sputtered.
“Fuck, yeah. Give it up for me, Missus Taylor.”
Holy shit. Missus Taylor.
Hearing him whisper my new last name through sheer lust lit my brain on fire.
The next couple minutes were a blur as he kissed me, teased my clit with his thumb, so long and hard I couldn't help but grind against it.
“Fuck my fingers. You get this tongue when I know you really want it.”
“Yes,” I moaned. “Please!”
“Not good enough, Summertime. Make. Me. Believe.” His dense, hazel eyes drilled through mine. “I can't hear you, girl. I'm deaf, or you ain't begging hard enough.”
Oh, hell.
I twisted against him, biting my lip when he pushed my hips back, every time I tried to buck back against him a little tighter. Snarling, he grabbed my hands, twisted them above my head, and pinned them down.
The delicious torture must've went on for at least a solid minute before I started to tremble, moaning all the way.
His lips covered mine. His tongue pushed through, taking mine, taking me over.
PROPERTY OF JOKER, my new tattoo said. I finally felt it, all the way down to my very soul, just kissing, teasing, and surrendering to the beast on top of me.
When he'd finally had enough, he stood up, lifting away my panties with a final jerk of his hand. “Stand up,” he growled, taking my hands and placing them on him.
He moved my fingers, helping me undress him. Withering need coursed through me. I had to press my thighs together while he held me by the wrist, smiling as I helped him out of his cut, his shirt, and then his jeans.
Boxers went down. His cock sprang out in my hand. Angry, pulsing, and alive.
Two could play at this teasing game. I wrapped my fingers around it, barely edging the tip of his cock with my tongue.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah,” he growled, looking down when he felt me stop. “What the fuck?”
“Make me believe you want it,” I said, smiling sweetly. I kissed the head for good measure, my lips passing right across the stud in his swollen tip.
“Suck it, babe. I want my fuckin' wedding present, and I want it now. Not gonna ask again.”
“No?” I said, keeping my lips away this time, blowing hot air across his swollen shaft. “Not even one more time?”
It twitched in my hand, tempting me so much, but still I held back. I loved it when he got mad.
Loved it, because it was a one way ticket to getting fucked twice as hard.
He lasted about five brutal seconds. Then Joker grabbed my hair, fisted it, and shoved my face down on his cock. I opened wide, taking every inch of him, pulling him along my tongue.
I moaned. I sucked. I worked his cock like my life depended on it, or at least my next orgasm.