Curve Contract (Big Girls Next Door Erotica) by Christa Wick

Author:Christa Wick [Christa Wick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic romance, BBW, plussize
Publisher: Christa Wick
Published: 2012-06-23T03:30:33+00:00

His free hand slid between us as I rose up. When I landed again, his palm was against my pussy, his fingers pulling the gusset of my panties to the side. He eased a tip between my labia to slowly circle the muscled gate.

“So wet, PJ.” He bit the edge of my jaw, his tongue following after to lick the hurt away before his mouth found mine again. “And tight, baby…I want to slide inside you, feel you squeezing me.”

His hand moved, my hips moved with him. The pad of his thumb came to a stop against the kernel of my clit. He rubbed a slow clockwise circle and then another. Gazing into my eyes, he increased the pressure as his thumb took another trip around the clock. “Are you going to make me wait until after the wedding, baby.”

I couldn’t nod or shake my head or say anything. I could only lift higher, the slow pace of his circles controlling me, wearing my resistance down until my hips bucked and I bit at my lips to stop the cry ripping from me as I came.

“Every time, PJ.” He cupped my mound, gently rocking his palm against my clit as the crescendo inside me began to ebb. “Every time you’re in this car, in our bed, I’m going to touch you, love you until you have to let me in, baby.”

“Blake…” The knowledge that I’d just signed the pre-nup weighed at me. Tears threatened. My hands were still tied. The first fat drop of liquid landed and I couldn’t stop it from spilling down my cheek or wipe it away. “I don’t think I can go through with this.”

He blinked, his pupils expanding. The jaw that had been relaxed as his lips teased my flesh hardened. The hand that had been tugging relentlessly at my nipple as I arched against him landed on my hip with a dreadful finality. “Love, you don’t have a choice.”

*****

The rest of the limo ride passed in silence. Blake's office was closest and Carson dropped him off first. From there, I went to my brownstone to pack a few things. It had been made clear in the attorney’s office that I was expected to stay at the penthouse until the end of the trial -- even before we were legally married.

I still had no idea when the actual wedding would occur. I only knew that the contract called for a “valid” marriage. I didn't need it spelled out in black and white, in all caps bolded, to understand the term meant fucking would be required.

Once.

Post-ceremony.

Despite my quivering liquid state in the back of Blake’s limo, I was in no hurry to walk down the aisle with Cross.

He had me in such an emotional state that I didn’t check the online version of the Post while I was packing. I judiciously avoided it at work, as well. I’d counseled more than one client at times like this and my advice had always been the same: Stay offline.

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