by Annie Dyer
“I’m really glad that you didn’t give me another woman’s name there.” I did release a breath I’d been holding. I couldn’t deal with any skeletons falling out of previously well-sealed closets right now.
Grandfa chuckled, and I saw myself in his expression. I looked very similar to him – maybe I should warm Immy that this was how I’d look in a few decades time, only I wasn’t sure we’d still be a thing in a few decades time. My heart sank a little.
“The night before I married your grandmother, I was a bag of nerves. I was so worried she’d change her mind, maybe realise I wasn’t the fairy-tale prince she deserved.”
I could identify with that.
“Turned out she thought kind of the same thing. She was worried she wasn’t a princess, and she wasn’t. But she was my princess. And when I saw her walk down the aisle – same chapel you’re getting married in tomorrow, lad – I knew it was right.” His stare was a thousand yards long.
“What about Caroline?” Because I had a lot of time for the woman who’d made my grandfather so comfortable in the last few years.
Grandfa smiled. “Lightning struck twice.” He sipped his whisky. “I got lucky, kid, but I wish I hadn’t had to – your gran was special. Like Imogen is to you.”
Something in my chest cracked.
I put my glass down on the table. “I need to go and see her. Check that everything’s okay. Will you be alright here?”
He laughed again. “Go see your bride. Remind her why she’s marrying you. I’m proud of you, Noah.” He stood up and headed toward me.
I paused, letting his arms surround me, just as they had when I was a boy and a teen, and now I was a man. His was still warm and strong and smelled just like he had when I was a kid.
“Love you, Grandfa.”
“Love you too, Noah. Go tell that girl how you feel.” He clapped my back a couple of times and I broke away, stopping any tears from falling right now.
“Will do.” I left the room.
I had no idea where Imogen would be, other than somewhere in the wing of the house that had been set aside for her. Tomorrow night, we’d have the main suite, a set of rooms set aside for anyone of importance, such as a visiting viscount or lord.
I headed for her bedroom, a large suite that I knew Caroline had partially refurbished when she knew Imogen would be staying there. If Immy was feeling anything like I was, she’d be wanting some time alone, to process.
I was right. My wife to be answered the door in her PJ’s, hair mussed and a beautifully sleepy smile on her face.
“I was having an afternoon nap. Don’t tell anyone.” She looked radiant, but I knew I was biased by this point.
“I won’t, but can I come in?” I had no idea what to say to her. Everything I wanted to say was so bound up by this agreement I had no idea where to start.
She opened the door a little wider. “It’s bad luck to see the bride the night before. But I guess that only applies to normal circumstances.”
“And we’re not normal.” I felt my heart break a little.
“I don’t think any couple is. Do you want a drink? I have enough champagne to fill several reservoirs.” She guided me through to a lounge that looked very her and I wondered exactly how busy Caroline had been in the last few weeks to make my bride comfortable.
“How do you like the house? This suite?”
Her smile was genuine. “I feel like I’m a princess. Everything’s just so comfortable, I might not want to leave.”
“You can stay here, if you want. We can live here instead of London.” If she’d asked to move to the moon right now, I’d have found a way.
“Oh, Noah. Bless you.” She laughed and I wanted to stare at my feet. “Maybe we can escape here once a month?”
I looked up again, at her. “Whenever you want. We’re only here for a couple of days and there’s a lot to see.”
“You can show it to me.”
She stood there in front of me, hair loose and messy, no make-up and her clothes comfortable rather than following any fashion.
“Anytime.” I took the liberty of holding her, taking her in my arms and pulling her in close to my chest.
I felt her relax, her arms wrapping around me, her cheek pressing against me, and then I felt her lips touch a kiss to me.
“You okay?” I hoped the answer would be yes.
She laughed softly. “Yes. Everything is perfect. Any hiccups, which there will be, will be well-managed. My sisters are excited and happy, and my parents still in the shocked but thrilled stage. I’m good.”
“You don’t quite sound it.”
Another laugh. “I wish it was real, Noah. I wish this was a proper wedding, because it’s just as perfect as I’d have planned it to be.”
“So let’s pretend it is real. Forget this was an agreement.”
She looked up at me with those beautiful eyes. “Can we?”
“Why not? Why can’t we enjoy this? It’s the first time either of us have been married, and it might be the last.” Please God, let it be the last. “I can’t think of anyone I’ve ever met that I’d rather be here with right now.”
“Me either.”
I didn’t know who kissed who first, but somehow we ended up on the wide, plush sofa that I was pretty sure had been bought with Imogen in mind. We sank onto the cushions, hands everywhere they probably shouldn’t be for many reasons. Her top was lose, her skin underneath smooth beneath the palms of my hands, and I started to map every inch.
We’d stopped talking, with words anyway. My mouth was devouring hers, demanding everything she was willing to give, all the while exploring the curves I’d been a gentleman by not touching.
Her breasts were more than a handful, her bra barely concealing anything. I was planning to dip lower, to slip off the sweatpants she had on, and cast them aside along with her underwear, finding that heat I’d only been burned by once, and needed more of.
But she was quicker than me. Deft fingers undid both my trousers and me, her mouth travelling across my chest that she’d exposed, heading lower to where my cock was hard and swollen, her hand there first, running up its length.
I didn’t protest. Any reasoning against this had long since gone. I was at her mercy, and it was the best place to be.
She slipped my boxer briefs down, pulling my cock free, her tongue immediately licking from base to tip. There was a murmur from her about size, but every one of my senses, apart from touch, had been obliterated by her.
When her mouth took the top of my cock, the world could’ve gone up in flames, because nothing else mattered. I managed to recoup myself enough to watch her over me, sucking me off with that pretty mouth, her hand gripping the base of my dick, controlling everything, which I was only too happy to let her do right now, because what else would be the answer when the woman you’re about to marry is giving you head that you’re never going to forget?
It had been a long time since I’d had an orgasm at the hand of anyone apart from myself, and the last few weeks I’d been driven to distraction by the woman bent over me right now, her hair half covering her face.
I moved it away from her eyes, not trying to control her movements because now wasn’t the time for that. That was another night, maybe, one where we knew each other better, and she was returning a favour.
“I’m close, Immy.” I’d take any ending she wanted to give right now, expecting her to move her mouth away.
She didn’t. She took more of me, her eyes locking with mine, and that was what did it.
I came hard, watching her swallow, her mouth a little messy. I sat up, pulling her closer onto me, using my shirt to wipe her mouth before I kissed her long and hard, tasting her and myself.
“Immy,” I breathed her name, my hands back on her waist and her breasts. “I didn’t…”
A banging at the door made us both sit up straight, looking guiltily towards where her sisters and half of her cousins came in, carrying balloons and booze.
; We scrambled to sort our clothes, laughter pealing around the room at what had been caught.
“Couldn’t you wait another twenty-four hours?” It was Maven, the loudest of the sisters. “Having said that…” She gave me a lecherous wink and then doubled over in a fit of laughter.
Imogen started to move off me. “Should’ve locked the door.”
“Rookie move.” I fastened my trousers, then pressed a kiss to her lips, aware that I had at least ten women watching me.
It did feel as if I was some form of sacrifice about to be eaten.
“Go enjoy your last night of freedom.”
I gripped her hips to move her off me, something I was reluctant to do. “I already have.”
My brothers sat in my mother’s favourite lounge in the house where she’d grown up, wearing the most ridiculous smoking jackets I’d ever seen, while my father sat there, eyeing them as if they’d fallen from some alien spacecraft.
I suspected the smoking jackets had belonged to him in a former, mostly forgotten life.
Zeke, my best friend from university sat with them, not wearing a smoking jacket, because that was something he definitely wouldn’t do.
“What’s this? An intervention?” To the side of Robbie was a selection of whiskies and scotch, a bucket of ice, and five crystal tumblers.
Robbie shook his head. “Just a civilised last evening of you being a single man. Zeke, of course, has a few more nights to get through on his own, but you have just this one last sleep.” He picked up a tumbler and held it out to me. “Do the honours.”
I groaned, accepting it. “I’m only having a couple. I want to remember my wedding day.”
“And be able to perform on your wedding night.” Gus stood up to help pour. “Don’t want to let your wife down.”
I laughed, but it was hollow. I hadn’t thought too much about tomorrow night, keeping those ideas filed under places I shouldn’t go. We’d be in the same suite, and while I could take one of the couches in there, I didn’t want to.
A couple of hours ago, Imogen had my cock in her mouth and my only regret was that we’d been interrupted before I could get her off. Tomorrow night was not going to be spent lying there, eaten up with frustration.
Unless she didn’t want to.
I poured up, making sure the measures were less generous than Gus would’ve wanted, but I didn’t want a grey-green looking best man tomorrow, then we sat in relative silence, the crackling of the fire in the background.
“I can’t believe you’re actually getting married.” My father broke the quiet.
There was a murmur of laughter, even from Zeke, who was usually pretty stone-like unless his daughter was with him.
“Somehow I managed to find a woman who agreed to marry me.” I looked up at the ceiling and thought about how the hell it had occurred. “Where’s mother, by the way?”
My father shrugged. “Early night. I think she’s scared she’s going to wake up and this will all be a dream.”
“There’s every chance of that happening.” Robbie looked evilly at me. “Imogen may yet come to her senses.”
“Any tips on how to keep your wife happy?” I looked at my father, because somehow he’d kept Lady S happy for more than forty years.
“Pick your battles. If she has a crazy idea, agree with it, because the chances are she’ll just be trying to push your buttons. Neither of you will ever be totally right – accept it and move on. I could give you more hints, but they’d probably give you nightmares.”
Robbie put his whisky down and looked a little ill. “I didn’t need that last one, Dad.”
Our father laughed. “We did make the three of you. God wasn’t involved in any of it, but that wasn’t what your mother was saying at the time.”
“You definitely weren’t wearing these smoking jackets then.” Gus pulled at the lapel of his.
“I was wearing that very one you have on once. Called it my lucky jacket.” I saw the sparkle in Dad’s eyes, but Gus didn’t, pulling it off as if it was full of wasps.
And so the evening continued. Another whisky, another period of quiet contemplation while the fire crackled.
It felt momentous, what tomorrow had in store for us. Even if this wasn’t real, it was still life changing. After two pm tomorrow I would be a married man, and if in twelve months’ time, we did separate, it would never change that I’d been married.
It wasn’t enough to change my mind. This felt more and more like the right decision the more I got to know Imogen.
I just hoped it would be the right decision for her too.
Chapter Fourteen
Imogen
“I’ll get it!”
We had ninety minutes to finish getting ready, and ten minutes contingency because Lainey insisted I couldn’t be on time for my wedding. I disagreed. I could and would be on time, because I didn’t want Noah to think for a moment that I’d changed my mind.
We’d been texting as the morning went on, just little things about where we were up to with getting ready, or who’d arrived. He’d sent me a few descriptions of people in his family and what the easiest things were to talk to them about, and then it had become less formal.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how you looked with my cock in your mouth last night.
I wish we hadn’t been interrupted.
Why, what would we have done next?
You’d have found a way to get me off.
How do you wish I’d done that? My mouth? You like my mouth and you tasted better than anything. Or my fingers? I’d love to get you off with my fingers.
Later. Later you can.
Immy, do one thing for me.
What’s that?
Tell me you’re not wearing any knickers under your dress.
I’m not wearing any underwear when I get married. I’ll be bare under the dress.
There was no reply, and I wondered what he was doing.
I hadn’t lied to him. I wasn’t wearing underwear under my dress in a silent rebellion at the formality of it all, but the only two people who would know would be me, and now Noah.
“Are you sure?” Catrin looked around the room. “I don’t really want to bump into him again.”
My sister had a minor altercation with Noah’s friend, Zeke, yesterday, when he’d almost clipped her car with his far-too-big-to-not-be-a-penis-extension SUV.
“It’s just down the stairs. I'll go and get it, and bring it up.” I wasn’t in my wedding dress yet, but my long silk robe, and wearing the comfy slippers that I’d change into later, because there was no way I could wear the heels of death all day and night.
I also wanted a couple of minutes away from the madness that was a dozen women getting ready. The male side of our family, including my dad, brother, brother-in-law, cousins and husbands of cousins, had the sense to go for a round of golf early on, and then have the excuse of quick showers to be ready on time. The only one who’d broken from this had been Jake, who’d kidnapped Lainey from the bridesmaids’ dressing room when he returned early, with some excuse when basically he just couldn’t keep his hands off her.
We’d all just ignored it.
“I’ll go grab your camera. No one will be about.”
My phone vibrated just as I was about to leave, Noah’s name flashing up on the screen.
I want to see you before it all starts. Can you sneak out?
Just heading down to the ground floor now where Cat left her camera. Near the red lounge. I’m in my dressing gown.
With no underwear?
Neither confirming or denying. It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.
I’ll sacrifice something later to make up for it.
“Back in five.” I slipped out, Catrin fussing over her hair. It was chaos in there, the make-up artists and hairdressers, my sisters and cousins, babies, and a couple of toddlers. I knew no one would notice if I slipped away as long as I was back in time for my make-up to be touched up and my veil fixed on, after I’d fas
tened myself into most of my dress – the wedding party did not need to know I was sans-panties.
I lifted my dressing gown as I headed down the stairs to avoid tripping on it, taking care on where I was putting my feet, because I was utterly distracted with the idea of Noah waiting for me.
The door to the red lounge – it had another name but my capacity to remember the names for so many rooms had been shot a couple of days ago – was closed. I opened it quietly, half expecting a viscount or a lord to be there with Noah, and have me scuttling back to my rooms, embarrassed.
But there wasn’t. It was just Noah, wearing his tux trousers and a white shirt, his hair still damp from a shower.
“Hey.” He headed towards me. “Lock the door. Let’s not be interrupted this time.”
I felt warmth between my legs, the pulse there feeling heavier. Needier. I turned the lock on the door.
“I’m not going to bolt. I’ll see you at the alter.” I reached a hand to his shoulder, and he caught my waist, dipping his forehead down to press against mine.
“If I kiss you, am I going to spoil your make-up?”
“No. But thank you for asking…”
I was silenced by his mouth, his manners pillaged by the kiss, that was in no way polite.
We went from zero to flames in a matter of seconds, my hands under his shirt and occasionally grazing the erection that his trousers were not concealing. Noah’s touch was more controlled, his hands deftly undoing the knot in my dressing gown, then breaking the kiss so he could step back to see what he’d revealed.
I had nothing on underneath. My nipples had hardened to tight peaks, and between my legs was waxed bare. I knew if he looked closely, and the light caught, he’d see the glint of my arousal.
“Fuck, Imogen. You were lying about not wearing knickers under your wedding dress, though? You have to be.” He murmured the words, his eyes flicking from my pussy to my tits.
I shook my head. “No. No underwear.”
Noah swallowed audibly, his hand palming one of my breasts, plucking at the nipple and making me gasp. Then that same hand slid down to between my legs, cupping my centre and making me spread my legs for him.