by kj lewis
“How many is that?” Matt asks referencing the piece of cake in my hand.
“Two.” He gives me a knowing look. “Okay, three. But it’s my wedding. And this cake is really delicious.”
“I’m really happy for you, James. Thank you for everything you did for me and the guys. We will miss you, but I really believe you are where you are meant to be.” He wraps me in a hug.
“I want in on this!” Drew says sandwiching me between him and Matt, and eventually Kyle and Scott. These guys were my home and family. They looked out for me. At the time I thought I was taking care of them, but now I can see that they were the ones taking care of me.
“If you gentlemen wouldn’t mind releasing my wife,” Graham interrupts with his classic tinge of mirth and gruffness.
“Just when she finally let me see her ass,” Drew says disappointedly, laughing at Graham’s now ill-humored expression.
“Adam’s right. Like shooting fish in a barrel.” He slaps Graham on the shoulder as he goes back to Amanda.
“Who would have thought? Drew and Amanda,” I muse watching them for a minute.
“Can’t happen soon enough,” Graham replies dryly.
“Husband. Will you take me away now?” I wrap my arms around his neck, resting my head on his chest.
“Wife. You won’t have to ask twice.” We make our quick goodbyes to the amusement of our guests.
“Marriage is the long haul, son. You have plenty of time,” Ben tells Graham.
Ruth laughs, hugging us both goodbye. Joy catches the bouquet. Graham refused to toss my garter, instead putting it in his pocket.
“Ready Mrs. Taylor?” he asks grabbing my hand as we make a run for the car, our friends determined to cover us in birdseed as we leave.
Myles drives us the short distance to Graham’s beach—to our beach house on the property. We are spending our honeymoon here until we have time to actually get away. We have three full days before flying back to the city Wednesday morning.
Graham carries me up the stairs of the porch.
“Place your hand on the stone,” he instructs. I do and the door opens. Graham carries me over the threshold.
The house is finished but still empty. Our plan is to have it ready by the holidays. He wanted me to be able to decorate so that the house felt like ours instead of just his.
“I will fuck you on these stairs before we leave,” he says with a glimmer in his eye carrying me up the stairs to the bedroom. The bedroom has the necessities, a large bed and some comfy chairs to sit in by the fireplace. Graham walks past these and takes the stairs to the roof balcony.
“You’re going to die before I get to make love to you carrying me up another flight of stairs,” I tease.
“It’s not like it’s a hardship. You barely weigh anything.”
“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” I laugh as he sets me down on the top step, and I gasp as I take in the view. “Graham. When?” I ask.
“Last week. You’d be amazed what can be accomplished if you make it worth someone’s effort.”
When Graham first showed me the house, this deck had the most amazing views of the ocean. Now it has been turned into a screened in bedroom. There’s a large king bed with crisp linens, an oversized loveseat with a large round ottoman that surrounds the stone outdoor fireplace, and a beautiful chandelier that hangs like a piece of art made of shells and reclaimed wood. There’s a soft rug underfoot. The ocean air and the breeze softly blow through the weighted curtains.
“Graham. This is…this is a dream.”
He taps the pad built into the wall. The ceiling lights up like stars in a planetarium. He hits another button and all the candles in the room start to flicker.
“There are built in heaters in the casing,” he points to the ceiling. “In case it gets too cool.” He taps another button and the fireplace comes to life. It’s like being in our own outdoor paradise.
There’s a large barn door that slides back revealing a small, personal kitchen that I notice is completely stocked. Another door leads to a bathroom. Two of its walls stationary and two of them an extension of the screened in porch. The sun is setting, and it’s a beautiful backdrop to a beautiful evening.
“Graham, thank you. This is perfect. There is no place I would rather be for our honeymoon.”
Graham pops the cork on a bottle of champagne that I know nothing about, but I know Graham, so I’m sure it’s the best.
“To you, Emelia. My Wife. My lover. My best friend. I promise to cherish and honor you all the days of my life.” He raises his glass in a toast to me. “Jules did an amazing job on your dress. Now show me how to take it off.”
“There’s a button in the back that takes off the lace first.” I turn my back to him, watching him over my shoulder. His fingers lightly rub down my exposed back as he comes to the pearl button. He unbuttons it and slowly reaches around me sliding off the lace overlay. Taking care to place it on the chair, his hands make the trip up my back and over my shoulders.
“Turn around,” he commands from behind me. When I do, his eyes heat at the low “v” in the front ending a few inches below the swell of my breasts. His finger traces the skin where it meets the fabric.
“Side zipper,” I tell him, barely recognizing my own voice.
Graham unhooks the small eye-hook and slowly lowers the zipper, his fingers following in its path. Stepping back slightly, he lowers the straps off my shoulders and the dress billows to the floor around me. I’m left in only my white lace boy-shorts cut high across my ass.
“Step,” he orders, taking my hand to help me step over the fabric of the dress. “Undress me.” His eyes never leave mine.
Without a word, I unbutton his suit jacket and push it off him. Slowly, I pull on his shirt tails and unbutton it, leaning in to kiss his chest once I hit the halfway mark. The shirt finds a spot next to the jacket. Without taking my eyes off him, I undo his belt and pants. Placing my thumbs inside the band of his underwear, I slowly pull everything down together freeing his already hardened cock.
I reach up to touch him, but he pulls me back into the standing position. His hands wrap around my neck, his thumbs on my jaw as he pulls me into him. Our tongues waltz over each other, and I know I could orgasm without him touching me anywhere else.
“Graham.”
“All jewelry off except your wedding rings.”
I remove everything and place it in a small white bowl on the bedside table. It’s now I notice there are some books with a vase of white peonies on each table along with pictures I haven’t seen before. Pictures of me and Graham. In a small frame at the front of the table is a five–by-five square frame with the picture of my “g” tattoo that I put in Graham’s box. I run my finger over the edge of it, touched by his thoughtfulness to detail.
“Speaking of which,” he says, twirling his finger to mimic his words, “turn around.”
I face away from him again. He stands naked behind me. Lightly kissing my shoulder, he places his thumbs just inside my underwear and pulls it down for me to step out of. He kisses the underside of my ass where it meets my thighs and rises, pulling my back to his chest. Like a puppet master, he pulls my arms to wrap around his neck above and behind me. His arms massage my breast and slowly one hand lowers to my sex.
“You’re always ready.” His arm tightens around my chest as he holds me up while he works me to the first orgasm of our honeymoon.
“Fuck.” I release on a breath, my body still pulsing from the quick work he made of me.
He says in my ear, still leaning me against him. “I like knowing I’m the only one who hears the real you talk. Hearing those words in your sweet southern voice. It blazes a trail straight to my dick.”
His dick that has taken up residence against the crevice of my ass.
Lifting me, he carries me to the back wall. Moving my hair to the side, he begins strategically placing light kisses down my shoulders working his way down my spine and over each ass cheek.
Slightly pulling my hips back, his tongue moves from the top of my ass crack until it skims my sex. From this angle it teases me while still denying me. “Turn around.” He’s on his knees in front of me. This king of the world who kneels to no one. He runs his nose against the apex of my thighs before making his way to my tattoo. Lightly he traces it with his finger. Studying it.
“I wanted a permanent reminder that I belong to you.”
“Perfect placement.”
“I’m yours Graham. You own me. My heart. My body. All I have is yours.”
“You own me Emelia. My heart. My body. All I have is yours. I’m yours, Emelia.” His eyes hold mine as he leans forward, his mouth indulging on me. He lifts my leg over his shoulder and I run my fingers through his hair. Watching him is erotic. My second orgasm as Mrs. Graham Taylor rips through me. Drinking in everything my body is giving him, he kisses his way up my body, holding me to the wall. His mouth claims mine when he reaches it, sharing my taste with me.
Picking me up, he carries me to our bed, laying me across it, before climbing over me. I wrap my legs around him as he plunges into me.
“Graham.” His name is a whisper on my lips. His fingers entwine with mine above my head while he moves in and out of me. His pace is tender and controlled. His arms wrap under my shoulders, giving him the leverage to push my body onto his as he continues to push into mine.
“Graham.” My arms wrap around him. We couldn’t be more inside of each other. More connected.
“Husband,” I say aloud as the realization sinks in that I am making love with my husband. My declaration pushes Graham to the brink.
“Come for me, Emelia,” he says tilting my hips just enough that his body rubs against my clit on a downward stroke, sending us each crashing into an orgasm.
It’s dark outside. I can hear the ocean as if it’s under us. The stars in the ceiling twinkle softly while the fire makes a popping noise. I rub my hand over Graham’s back. He’s been asleep for about thirty minutes, his cock finally coming to a rest inside of me.
“Your heart beat matches mine.” He says with his head lying against my chest. I protest when he lifts off me. “Don’t you think I’m a little heavy to be laying on you?”
“I’m sturdy. I can handle it. I rather like the feel of your weight against mine.” I wince as he pulls out of me. I curl up into his arms. We listen to the waves. His hands darting in and out of my hair.
“This day couldn’t have been more perfect. Thank you.” I plant a kiss on his pectoral muscle before taking his hand. Pulling it around me I tell him about his ring.
“I had this made for you this week from my grandparents’ wedding rings.” I plant a kiss on his ring finger before resting my chin on his chest and looking in his eyes. “I inscribed it.”
“Really? Well this will be the only time I ever take it off.” He pulls it off and reads the inscription. I slide his ring back onto his finger.
“May we be as happy in our marriage as they were in theirs,” he says.
“Was our wedding day everything you wanted it to be?” I ask him.
“It was perfect. You were perfect. Thank you.” His fingers run over my arm, and I realize that we haven’t stopped touching each other since we entered the house.
“I love listening to you come, Emelia. You were so loud it wouldn’t surprise me if they heard you at mom and dad’s.”
“I can’t help it. You bring it out in me” I lower my hand to him. With just my fingertips I circle as much of the base of his cock as I can and lightly skim my fingers to his tip and back again. It only takes a couple of trips before he’s hard again. Pulling the covers back I take him with my mouth, working him, stopping just before the point of no return. Sitting up I straddle him, my back and ass facing him. Placing my hands on his thighs, I lower myself onto him and begin to undulate my hips. My hair falling long down my back. He places a hand on each cheek of my ass, circling his hands around each globe. His balls press deliciously against my clit in this position. I lean forward and lay my chest against his thighs, shifting the angle of him inside me. Moaning my pleasure at the change, Graham’s thumb runs down my crevice before entering into me.
“Fuck!” I moan loudly as I continue to ride him. The fullness exquisite.
Reaching above, I grab his ankles as I increase my pace, holding on to him.
“Let go, Emelia.” Graham says through gritted teeth and I do.
Screaming his name I collapse on top of him. Before I register it, Graham has my hips lifted in the air, my knees on the bed and he’s pounding into me from behind. His balls tapping my clit once again. I can feel myself tightening. It’s not possible. There’s no way.
“Again, Emelia.” Graham feels my body responding as he finds his release flooding me. “Fuck!” he says, sending me off into my hardest orgasm yet.
“Good morning, husband.” I kiss him and place a tray of breakfast on the bed.
“Good morning, wife.” Reaching into the drawer of the bedside table, he places a beautiful floral box in front of me with another white satin ribbon.
“Graham, I don’t need anything else. You’ve already given me more than enough.”“Well I’m not finished, so deal with it.” He pushes the box to me. Untying the ribbon, I lift the top off to find six black leather ring boxes inside. Dipping my eyebrows in confusion, I pull one out and open it. It’s a beautiful rose gold wedding band. Simple. Smooth. Elegant.
“Options. To switch up,” he says.
“What?” I question as I pull the next one out. It’s a diamond and sapphire band. There’s a simple, darkened platinum band, a yellow-gold band, a thin, rose gold pave’ band, and lastly, another dark-platinum diamond pave’ band to match the one he put on my finger during the ceremony.
“Graham.” I’m shocked at the volume of gifts. I try out the different bands, each one giving my engagement ring a different look. Mixing the metals gives it a cool hip look while matching bands makes it more traditional. Others lend to a vintage look. So many styles. I love it. I never would have thought of this. “I love them. I really do. This one will always be my favorite. I’ll always wear it.” I spin around the one he put on my finger on our wedding day.
“Look inside” he says.
Sliding it off my finger, I look on the inside of the thin band and see a small red ruby flush with the metal. It’s in the shape of a heart.
“You’ll always know which one I placed on your hand.”
I climb out of the bed to look through my honeymoon bag Jules brought over here for me yesterday along with something I will need for later. I have another letter for Graham and hand him the iPad.
“I loved my wedding day letter. It was my favorite thing.”
“Well, this is your first husband and wife letter. Plus,” I turn on the iPad and pull up the photos Henry took of me yesterday on the beach, “these are for you. I thought I would let you choose your favorite. I want to blow it up to hang in your closet at home.”
He slides from one to the next. “God, you’re sexy. You look amazing. You could be on the cover of a magazine.”
“I don’t know about that, but I love them, too. They’re exactly what I envisioned.”
“I have no idea how I will choose a favorite. Maybe we could put one in my office.”
“Your office?”
“At home, sweetheart, at home.” He laughs.
“I like this one. We could put it in the apartment at Taylor Organization.”
He moves a few more, and I see pics I haven’t seen before. Henry has loaded the ones from the rehearsal dinner on the stream. Graham pulls me against him and we look through the lot. There must be three or four hundred. All candid shots throughout the night. Several up close of me laughing. Some of us and everyone dancing. Graham skims through more, coming to a stop on one that has us both sitting up. Graham is sitting behind me, his arms wrapped around mine. My head is turned towards him, and we are both looking at each other with absolute adoration. The picture tak
es my breath away. I’m reminded of the picture I captured of my grandparents and of Ben and Ruth.
Running my finger over the screen I look at Graham. He’s watching me.
“This picture only captures an inkling of my love for you,” I tell him.
“I love you Emelia.”
After a day of lovemaking and walking on the beach in front of the house, Graham and I get ready for dinner. As I’m pulling up my hair, he walks up behind me, watching me in the mirror. He turns me around.
“I want to give this to you the right way.” He pulls out the ruby heart necklace he tried to give me when we first started our relationship. “You are mine, and tomorrow the world will know it. This necklace should never have been about that. What it should tell you is that you carry my heart with you, Emelia. Will you accept this gift?” I realize he’s nervous and that it’s important to him.
“I’d love to, Graham.” He fastens it around my neck. It really is stunning.
He leads me to the dining room where he pulls my chair out for me, before disappearing into the kitchen to bring out two plates. “Chef Michel was honored to prepare a special honeymoon meal for his favorite customer.” Graham sets our meal on the table.
“Chef Michel was here?” I ask shocked.
“Yep.” He pours us each a glass of red wine.
Leaning down slightly, I take in the wonderful aromas coming from my plate. Clapping my hands together, I shimmy back and forth with a smile on my face.
“You look so young when you’re happy.” Graham surveys me. His back straight, legs crossed. This is CEO Graham. He’s polished. Cultivated.
“When we were at his restaurant that night, I was in awe of you. I hated not being next to you, and I loathed that Jackson got to share that experience with you. You had a look of pure ecstasy on your face, but then you shared your amuse-bouche with Jackson and I could literally hear the blood whooshing in my ears as I watched you feed it to him. It was the first time in my life I understood jealousy. Then you placed your hand on his thigh, and I thought I would fucking lose it.”