5. Forbidden Sensation

5. Forbidden Sensation

Breakson holds my neck tightly, pushing his wet tongue inside my mouth. I couldn’t breathe or think as he aggressively kisses the fuck out of me.

I struggle in his arms and try to push him as hard as I could. But he doesn’t budge, instead he pulls me towards his solid body and rubs his erection on my belly.

I feel monkies in my skirt,

Sweat on his shirt,

Tingles in my gut,

And his hand on my butt.

His other hand grabs my ass, keeping me in place and glued to his hard-on as he dry humps in the chapel. After a few seconds, he begins to breathe heavily, his lips sloppily move against mine and his chest heaves to a heart attack level.

Is he dying?

Am I going to be a billionaire widow?

He leaves my lips breathlessly, his head falls on my shoulder weakly as he takes support of me to stand still. I look down and see a big wet patch on his pants, a kinky proof of his ejaculation.

Did he just cum from a kiss? A kiss?

Armson looks around the chapel in confusion, his eyes dilated and hard at the gleaming flowers and decoration behind him. His hand has officially left his cock and he seems more aware of the situation.

Wait… Is the drug’s effect varying off?

I need to get the marriage papers in my hand and fly away from this drunk Vegas ASAP. I throw the veil away and quietly walk away from the marriage spot.

“Ayee, tak yo hush-banned wit yoh!” The tipsy officiant screams.

Oh fuck him!

I immediately stride towards the reception and ask the grandpa for papers. “Congratulations, Mrs. Millan.” The old man teases me as he hands me our marriage license which is worth billion dollars.

“Congratulations, Mr. Millan.” The old man smiles at Crackson beside me. He blankly looks down at me, the dark wet patch on his pants stands out like a cow in between goats.

I safely put the papers in my bag and walk out of the chapel with a smile on my face and a ring on my finger. I am a billionaire’s wife now. I imma a rich bitch now!

I slow down as I notice the billionaire, my gay husband following me.

I walk right, he walk right,

I walk left, he walk left,

I stop walking, he stop walking,

I bend down to clean my boots, he checks out my ass.

“What do you want?” I ask him, turning around. He ideally stands with hands in his pockets. I twitch my eyebrow up waiting for his reply. I can’t believe he is such an annoying stalker.

Drakeson’s eyes darkly glare at me as he curtly says, “Sex.” I roll my eyes.

“Threesome?”

“What?”

“Group?”

I facepalm.

Such a horny gay!

I carefully look into his eyes, the grey’s look red and puffed up, the pupils are still dilated and his skin gleams with redness and sweat. Is he still high?

Dennis didn’t tell me what to do with him after the marriage. Also, I don’t want my billionaire husband to just die on road or worse, get kidnapped.

I get into a taxi with him, I chose to sit at the very end of the seat as the driver talks to him. During the ride, he kept looking at me, like a boy stares at a fish in an aquarium for the first time.

He continuously licks his lips, showing a sign of dehydration. I try my best to avoid his heated eyes that gawk at my chest, thighs, and sometimes hair.

Suddenly, my eyes catch the movement of his hand that is slowly striding towards his pants. He opens the button and slides his hand deep into his den.

“NO!” I yell grabbing his hand. He looks at me passively, his eyebrows pull downr in irritation and he holds my hand instead and pushes it down inside his pants. NO NO!

“Pigson! Don’t.” I warn him.

He menacingly narrows his eyes as he slowly spats, “Scissor.”

“Fuck you.” I curse under my breath as I pull my hand out along with his. The bastard growls resentfully as I clutch both his hands in mine during the whole ride so doesn’t start masturbating again. At least not in front of me.

The car halts in front of a tall, very tall building. Probably two hundred meters tall. I pay for the ride and walk inside the building with my hubby. I look around the foyer that gleams like a fashion show ramp.

Keyson follows me into the elevator. He presses his thumb on the biometric panel and the forty-one number lits up in the panel. With a subtle sound, the glass door closes leaving Him and I alone in a tiny closed space.

I look at the number of floors and feel dizzy. I pretend to look outside the glass and gawk at the beautiful view of the city, ignoring the gay who is continuously staring at me.

I take a casual look at him and find his hand again inside his trousers, jerking his cock. Oh god! Not again.

Fuckson slowly walks towards me, his eyes never leave me nor his hand from his pants. His first three shirt’s buttons are undone from where his built chest with hair is peeking out, looking not so gay to me.

I gulp as he gets way too close and leans down to sniff me. I swear to my dead grandmother if he grabbed my hand and pulled it in his pants, I am going to break his toy. For sure.

I keep my hand on his chest to create some newly wedded couple distance and feel how hot his body is. Temperature wise. His skin feels like a boiled egg, sweaty, silky, and very very warm.

I think he got a fever from too much masturbation.

My body jerks in shock as I feel his wet lips on my neck, kissing and licking the soft spot of my body like his favorite ice cream. His kisses turn into sucking and biting as he presses me into the glass breathing heavily.

His soft hair tickles my cheeks as he sucks my delicate skin from the base of my neck to the ear. My hips arch back as I feel him digging into me.

Oh fuck!

My nails dig in his muscular shoulders as his teeth graze my neck, biting hard to leave marks. I feel raw tingles, like kinky spiders crawling on my skin, entering my vagina, and partying there.

I throw my head back and moan in his ears as he presses me more into the glass, crushing his body on me. My breast crush against his chest as I let out a moan that echoes in the confined cubical elevator.

I close my eyes as the warm masculine scent of him wraps around my senses, teasing me with hints of sandalwood, lavender, and mint.

I was so lost in the forbidden sensation that I didn’t realize when he took my hand and put it inside his pants to meet his cuckoo.

Oh boy!