Sinners on Tour

  “Brian!”

  He started and drew back to look at her. “Sorry, I was lost in you. What did you say?”

  “I need to find the nearest bed. My legs are tired.” So tired she was shaking.

  He pulled out with a whimper, and then his eyes widened suddenly. “I forgot to carry you over the threshold.”

  She cupped his jaw and kissed him. “I want you to do that when we buy our first house together. Our permanent house. Not a hotel room or a tour bus. Not my condo. Not your apartment. Our home. The one we’ll choose together and where we’ll raise our kids.”

  His brilliant smile made her heart flutter. “I’m married,” he said, as if that realization just struck him.

  She chuckled. “It’s about time.”

  He scooped her up into his arms. “Well, wife, if you’re not going to let me carry you over the threshold, I’m going to carry you to bed.”

  She wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed his shoulder. “No objections.”

  He turned toward the living area of the suite. “This place is like a fucking mansion,” he said.

  No lie. She’d never seen such a gorgeous hotel room in her life. “Let’s dirty it up.”

  “Do you want to start in the bed?”

  She scanned the expansive room, and her eyes settled on the black granite wet bar. “The bar.” He took a step in that direction. “Wait! Let me grab the champagne.”

  He made a quick detour to the cart so she could grab the bottle, and then he hurried to the bar. She yelped when the backs of her thighs touched the cold granite, but forgot her discomfort when he settled between her legs and stared up at her. The light in the foyer gave limited illumination to the room, creating shadows that concealed his expression. His hesitation confused her. Didn’t he want her? She shook off her doubts. Of course he wanted her. He always did. How could she think otherwise?

  “We need to drink a toast.” She shook the champagne vigorously, an ornery grin on her face. Before she could pop the cork, Brian took the bottle from her hands and set it on the bar beside her. The intensity of his gaze caused her heart to leap in anticipation. Amazing things always happened when he looked at her like that. She abandoned her plan to hose him down with champagne and waited for amazing.

  His fingers moved to the buttons of her suit jacket. He never took his eyes off her face while he removed her jacket and the shell beneath. She helped him with her skirt, which knocked her shoes to the floor and left her sitting on the cool bar top in nothing but her thigh-high stockings. While he peeled the hosiery from her legs in agonizing slowness, she tugged impatiently at his T-shirt with one hand. He stripped his shirt off, and she wrapped her legs around his ribcage, tugging his body closer.

  With a wicked grin on his handsome face, Brian took the bottle from the counter and smashed the neck against the bar. A golden geyser gushed from the bottle. Myrna squealed when the chilled liquid sprayed over her chest and throat before running like a river between her breasts. Brian lowered his head to sample the champagne coursing over her skin.

  “To us,” he said, collecting the Dom Perignon from her heated flesh.

  He shook out the entire contents and dropped the empty bottle on the carpet with a thud. His arms circled Myrna’s back to draw her breasts to his mouth.

  “That was a three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne,” she told him, her fingers burrowing into his hair.

  The flat of his tongue collected the expensive liquid from her nipple. He offered the tender peak a sharp nip before sucking it into his mouth and gently flicking it with his tongue. Myrna gasped, and her body tensed before relaxing in his arms. His mouth moved down the center of her belly, seeking more champagne.

  “Worth every penny,” he murmured, the deep timbre of his voice sending thrills down her lower back. “Delicious. They could charge a million a bottle if they served it this way.”

  “I didn’t get any.” She captured his face between both hands, urged him upward, and kissed him, relishing the taste of their wedding toast on his strong lips.

  When he pulled away to stare up into her eyes, he offered her a crooked grin that made her heart race.

  “I’ll give you some.”

  He lowered her to her back on the wet bar and then joined her. The smell of alcohol mingled with the musky scent of Brian’s body when he settled above her. He bit his lip as he used his hand to guide his cock inside her body. His gaze held hers as he moved his hands to link with hers. He searched her eyes, her face, for a long moment before he drew her arms above her head and began to thrust with agonizing slowness.

  A trickle of wasted champagne splashed down on the lower counter of the bar, but Myrna didn’t need alcohol to be intoxicated when her sensual husband made love to her. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to sensation. The bliss of his thick cock filling her slowly, receding, filling her again. The hard, wet surface at her back. The strength of his fingers intertwined with hers. The warmth of his breath against her jaw. The crisp texture of the narrow strip of hair that ran down his lower abdomen rubbing against her belly when she arched her back.

  And then beyond the physical feelings, but working in tune with them, those overwhelming emotions that left her breathless with wonder made a reappearance.

  “Show me,” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. “Show you what?”

  “Your O-face.”

  She laughed. “I don’t have an O-face.”

  “Yeah, you do. I need to see it.” He pushed deep, and she gasped. “I need to see what I do to you.”

  “It’ll make an appearance soon enough. I have complete faith in your abilities.”

  His persistent rhythm quickly brought her to her peak. When she cried out, he said, “That’s it.” His breath caught, and he shuddered.

  She forced her eyes open so she could watch his O-face—mouth open, one eye squeezed shut, the opposite eyebrow arched. He bit his lip, and the skin on his nose crinkled as his entire body went rigid. “Mmm,” he gasped.

  “All I get is an mmm?” She mimicked his sound.

  He laughed between gasps. “I’ll be more vocal next time.”

  “Next time?” She squeezed his hands. “Maybe I’m finished for the night.”

  “Maybe you’re going to shave your box like you promised so I can feast on your pussy for an hour or two.”

  A shudder of delight raced down her spine, making her still-quaking pussy clench with renewed excitement. “Maybe I will.”

  “And maybe you’re going to wear your new jewelry for me while I watch you shave it.”

  Jewelry? “I’m already wearing my rings.”

  “Your other new jewelry. That we got at the sex shop.”

  Her belly quivered. How could she have forgotten? “I guess there is going to be a next time.” She lifted her head to kiss him.

  “I figured you’d see it my way.”

  He pulled out and slid from the bar before helping her find her feet and avoid the broken bottle on the floor. He kicked off his boots and removed his pants, which were saturated down the thighs with champagne. Myrna headed for the foyer to find the suitcase she’d packed.

  “I’ll meet you in the bathroom, if I can find it. This place is huge!” He glanced around the expansive main room and went to check an open doorway. “A home theater? Why did we stay on the bus last night?”

  “Not sure,” she said. “Maybe you like living the life of a bachelor.”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, there’s got to be a bathroom around here somewhere,” she said. “I specifically requested a jetted tub.”

  He grinned, and her heart stumbled.

  “You know, I love you a little more every minute,” he told her.

  “Just a little more?” she teased, pinching her thumb and forefinger together.

  “Trust me—minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day—all that love accumulates.”

  He switched on a light and di
sappeared deeper into the suite. She set the suitcase on the sofa and unzipped it, then riffled through the contents looking for the sack containing their new purchases.

  “Found it!” Brian called, his voice echoing.

  She found what she’d been looking for as well. “I’ll be there in a minute! Go ahead and fill up the tub.”

  She heard water strike porcelain as she dumped her new rhinestone choker into her hand. She fastened it around her throat and inspected the free ends of two slender chains dangling from the necklace. She’d never worn nipple clamps before. Wasn’t exactly sure how to attach them. She licked two fingers and rubbed them over one nipple, teasing it to an erect point before squeezing the open ring shut over the tender tip. An unexpected spasm gripped her lower belly as the weight of the chain tugged at her nipple. Her pussy throbbed.

  “Oh,” she gasped. “I think I’m going to like this.”

  She attached the other clamp to her free nipple and inspected her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Three slender chains draped between the mounds of her breasts. The slender strands swayed against her belly rhythmically and tugged gently on both sensitive tips. She thrust her shoulders back, which lifted her breasts high. Brian was going to love this new piece of jewelry. Perhaps even more than his new ring. Well maybe not that much. But the clamps kept her nipples erect and her pussy tingly—just the way they both liked it.

  Myrna slipped on her black patent leather stilettos, picked up her shaving kit, and sashayed her way to the bathroom, feeling as sexy as she knew she looked.

  She found Brian lounging in a rapidly filling bathtub of steaming water. His eyes were closed, so she paused in the doorway and cleared her throat.

  His eyes blinked open slowly, and then he sat up producing an awkward splash.

  “Fuck, you look hot,” he said with a groan of approval.

  The man had a way with words.

  Myrna crossed the room with calculated steps, spread a towel on the ledge at the far end of the tub, and left her shoes on the floor as she climbed up to sit across from him. She lathered her pubic hair with shaving cream and opened her legs wide to give him a good view as she drew the razor over her skin in slow, deliberate strokes. She didn’t meet his eyes, pretended he wasn’t there. But damned if the excited little gasps he made each time a new strip of bare skin was revealed didn’t turn her on.

  When the tub was full, he turned off the water. She dipped a hand in the tub and rinsed the traces of shaving cream from her skin. She lathered up again and repeated the process. The repetitive sloshing of water drew Myrna’s attention to her enthralled husband. He was stroking the length of his massive cock with both hands. Her thighs contracted involuntarily. She watched him discreetly from beneath the veil of her lashes. Watching him masturbate always turned her on. Her pussy pulsed in time with his strokes, dripping fluids in anticipation. Finished with her task, she rinsed her clean-shaven box with water and moved her fingers to rub against her clit. She tugged on the chains of her nipple clamps with her free hand. Her back arched as she lost herself to pleasure.

  “I want to come all over that beautiful pussy,” Brian said in a low growl.

  The water sloshed as he rose to his knees before her. He stroked his cock faster and faster, until with a startled cry he started coming. Myrna drew her hand away just in time. Cum splattered over her shaved mound and lower belly. “Oh God,” he groaned, tugging out one last spurt that landed on her inner thigh.

  He collapsed against her, his face resting between her breasts. His fingers found the chains attached to her nipple clamps, and he tugged hard. Pleasurable pain shot from both breasts to Myrna’s throbbing clit. Her belly tightened with impending orgasm.

  “You’re so sexy, baby. So sexy.” He kissed a trail down her stomach, his destination obvious. He licked her newly shaved lips, sucked on them, nibbled and kissed them until she was writhing uncontrollably.

  When she was certain she would die from lack of fulfillment, he slid two fingers inside her.

  “Oh,” she gasped, her hands flying to his scalp to press his head and encourage him to take her clit in his mouth.

  He inched lower, but merely licked at her inner folds while he slowly drove his fingers in and out of her aching pussy.

  “Make me come,” she demanded. “Please, Brian, I can’t stand it.”

  He reached up, grabbed both nipple chains in one hand, and tugged sharply. Her pussy tightened around his fingers, but she didn’t fly over the edge.

  “Brian, Brian,” she panted. “Help me.”

  His tongue flicked her clit, and intense spasms of pleasure gripped her core. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  “Say my name,” he said brokenly.

  “Brian. Brian!”

  He yanked her into the tub, water sloshing over the rim and spreading across the floor.

  “God, I’m fucking hard as a rock again already,” he said in that sexy growl that made her crave another orgasm. “Why do you do this to me?”

  “Because I get off on it,” she said with a giggle.

  His fingers dug into her ass as he shifted her onto his lap, facing him.

  “I need to be inside you, sweetheart.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Always inside you,” he said against her throat.

  “You always are.”

  With one hand, she helped him find her.

  As he penetrated her inch by inch, he groaned. When at last he was buried deep, he said, “This is exactly where I want to be.”

  Myrna rubbed her mound against him, wondering why she’d waited so long to shave it for him. She had a whole new area of bare skin to enjoy. “You feel amazing,” she said.

  “Amazing,” he agreed breathlessly. “I love you so fucking much.”

  “I love you too.”

  He cupped her face in both wet hands and stared deeply into her eyes. “So fucking much?” he prompted.

  She laughed. “Yes, I love you so fucking much.”

  Grinning, Brian fumbled with a control panel on the edge of the tub, and the Jacuzzi jets roared to life.

  “Hold on,” he said before scooting around the tub to sit cross-legged in front of a jet. “Tell me when you’re in a good position.”

  “Let me turn around,” she suggested. She rose until his cock slipped from her body and then turned to face the side of the tub. She sank onto his cock again, her ass rubbing up against his lower belly. “Is that comfortable for you?”

  He leaned back, relaxing into the water. “Feels great,” he said brokenly.

  She started to ride him, the gushing water pulsing against her clit on each up stroke and each down stroke. Brian’s hands trailed over her wet breasts, while his lips brushed over her back.

  It was too slippery in the tub to get a good rhythm going on her knees. “Where’s Eric when I need him?” she wondered aloud.

  “Back on the tour bus where he belongs.” Brian grabbed her hips to assist her.

  “Thanks,” she whispered as their combined movements brought her closer to her peak.

  Brian kissed her shoulder and then sank his teeth into her heated flesh. Her back arched beneath his rough attention.

  “We could call Trey,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind making our wedding night rock.”

  Myrna stiffened and stopped moving. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, her heart clenching in a bitter mix of anger and hurt and jealousy.

  “I don’t want Eric to touch you, but if you crave more—”

  She didn’t let him finish, but instead started to rise from the tub. He caught her around the waist and tugged her back down against him.

  “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right,” he said. “Our wedding night already rocks. We don’t need assistance from Eric or Trey.”

  You’re goddamned right we don’t, she thought darkly. And she intended to prove it to him.

  It took her a moment to clear her thoughts enough to finish what they started.
She was pretty sure that Brian didn’t think of Trey in their bed as anything more significant than one of their sex toys, but she just couldn’t detach enough to think of Trey that way. And she knew Trey was emotionally invested in the act when