Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 411

I nodded. "Follow all of Madam Lily's arrangements for the wedding. She will take care of everything."

Then I left. I did not plan to return home that day, and I did not. When night came, I went back to my penthouse at the Beaumont, and I hit the club, planning to find a girl for the night.

I went through half the club first. Blondes, brunettes, a woman with dark skin and a laugh like a bell. Each time one caught my attention, I went close, and within a few minutes, I lost interest. There was nothing wrong with any of them. They were beautiful, willing, and they looked at me like I was the answer to a question they had been asking all night. And I felt nothing.

Until I spotted the redhead.

She was on the dance floor, and her hair was a shade of red that was close enough to Scarlett's to catch my eye and different enough to let me breathe. She was sexy, she was beautiful, and most importantly, she was not Scarlett. She swayed her hips in a way that was pure invitation, her dress short and her legs long, and for the first time all night, the hunger rose in me like a living thing.

I walked over, took her hand, and I did not waste time on conversation. I took her up to my room.

She was eager. She dropped to her knees before the door had even closed behind us and took my cock into her mouth, and she was good at it, better than good, her tongue working me with a practiced hunger that had me gripping the back of her head and fucking her throat until her eyes watered and she took it all, gagging and moaning around me.

I pulled her up and bent her over the bed, and I fucked her from behind, my hands gripping her hips, her ass bouncing against me with every stroke, her moans muffled in the sheets. She was tight and wet and she took everything I gave her, and I gave her everything, driving into her hard and fast until she came screaming into the mattress and I came inside her with a groan that tore out of my chest.

"Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

I drove myself to the wedding.

The venue was a white stone hall on the edge of the city, dressed in so many flowers it looked like a garden had grown through it. White roses climbed the arches and ivy wound up the pillars, a fountain threw glittering water into the morning air, and the aisle ran through a sea of white petals to an altar beneath a canopy of silk.