by L. A. Witt
She squeezed me around the neck and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you! It’s so pretty!”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
“Try not to cry again, Jessica,” Vic said in an undertone.
“Try not to ask for the impossible,” she replied, and yep, that was her teary voice. “Honest to goodness, it’s my son’s wedding day, of course I’m going to cry.”
Emily looked over my shoulder at her. “Because you’re sad Darren got married?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m so happy he got married.” She held out her arms, and I let her take Emily. “Look at my lovely granddaughters! Who wouldn’t be happy with the two of you?”
I didn’t think Emily was quite convinced, but arriving at the restaurant was a good enough distraction. It was a steakhouse, and probably a really nice one, but I honestly had no idea what I was eating. It was all I could do to make myself let go of Andreas’s hand long enough to cut a bite. I just . . . I wanted him, I wanted to be with him and on him and fucking in him, because he was my husband, because I was allowed.
He squeezed my hand under the table. “I’m going to need this back eventually.”
“No.”
Andreas raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“Nope. I think I’m keeping it for the rest of the night.”
“What do you plan on doing with it?”
I lowered my voice. “Nothing I can talk about while we’re out to dinner with our family.” His lips parted just a little, and his grip suddenly got a lot tighter. I grinned. “But you can borrow it for now. I’ll let you know when I expect it back.” I let go of him—and that was damn hard—stroked his thigh once, then went back to my steak.
Dessert was tiramisu, because my new husband was an enormous sap who knew exactly what I loved, and by the time I finished eating, I was practically ready to jump out of my skin. The ceremony was over, the dinner was over, we’d dotted every i and crossed every t. It was time for the wedding night, and we had a stocked suite with our name on it at the top of the Mandalay Bay.
“We’ll meet up tomorrow for breakfast,” Andreas said. “As long as nobody’s too hungover,” he added, side-eying his older daughter.
“Dad.” Erin rolled her eyes. “I take after Mom, I don’t get hungover. You’re the one who can’t handle the morning after.”
“Such abuse, and from my own kid,” he muttered, but hugged her and kissed her cheek. “You two have fun tonight.”
“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”
“Do you really want to think about the sort of fun your dad and I are going to have tonight?” I asked. Erin winced.
“Point taken.”
My parents were taking Emily to visit the aquarium before they bedded down. We said our goodbyes, I extricated myself from my mother’s arms after the tenth or eleventh hug, and we finally made it to the elevator. Too bad we weren’t alone, or I would have started stripping Andreas right there. As it was, at least the walls were mirrored. I could watch his front and his back at the same time. The tux might be rented, but it fit him well enough that it could have been bespoke. Honest to God, his ass in these pants looked amazing.
Walking down the hall and getting into the room was a bit of a blur, and once the door shut behind us . . . well. I was done being patient. It felt like forever since we’d been alone, and even longer since we’d had the time and energy to do anything when we were. Wedding planning had been brutal. It was all over now, though, and I was more than ready for our wedding night.
“Shit,” Andreas breathed against my skin as I shoved him back against the door and clasped his head in my hands. I kissed him, cutting off any words, any sounds other than whimpers and sighs as I held him still and fucked his mouth with my tongue. Christ, he tasted so good. His hands rose to clasp my shoulders, and I took the left one—my hand, the one with my ring on it—and trailed it down to my groin, where I was already hard enough to strain the material.
I pulled back far enough to growl, “I want you so bad. You have no fucking idea.”
“I think I probably do.”
I shook my head, feeling a little frantic. “No, you don’t. I want—I want to cut this tuxedo off you, put you on your back on the bed and edge you until you’re screaming, gag you and do it again, use this hand—” I rolled my hard-on against his palm for emphasis “—to hold you open for me while I blow you, and then fuck you after you’ve come, until you come again, even if it takes hours. I want to ride you fucking ragged so you can’t move tomorrow without thinking about me, and then I want to do it again every night for the rest of our lives.”
Andreas laughed, his pupils so big I could barely even see his irises anymore. “You’re such a possessive little shit.”
“Is that a no?”
“That’s a hell yes. But I think I can handle the tux.”
I stepped back. “Fine. You have thirty seconds.”
He was faster than I was, handling tie, suspenders, and all those stupid tiny mother-of-pearl buttons, and getting his pants down and off before I was even done with my shirt. But then, he was the one on the timer, not me. It wasn’t exactly a striptease, but it might as well have been. I think my tongue was hanging out by the end of it.
Andreas sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his hands. “This what you had in mind, Darren?”
“Close.” I finally got my shirt off, and decided just to ignore the pants for now. “Get all the way on the bed.” I tore myself away from looking at him—and the word fit; it hurt to look away—and went into the bathroom. Where was it, where was it, where— There. Special delivery. Probably the hotel was used to leaving these sorts of sex gift bags in suites, but I’d blushed over the phone when I’d asked for it. I wasn’t blushing now.
I went back into the bedroom and stared at Andreas, sprawled across the bed like he didn’t have a care in the world, smirking like he owned the place. He was here, with me, and all mine. A little of my desperation bled away, tension falling out of my shoulders and back as I walked over to stand in front of him.
“You’re not naked.”
“Nope,” I agreed, pressing his legs apart with my knees as I settled on the foot of the bed.
“Maybe you should be.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Or maybe there are other things I want to do first that don’t revolve around me being naked.”
Andreas rubbed his foot along my thigh. “Everything should revolve around you being naked.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” I grinned at him helplessly. “We’re married. You married me.”
“I know. I was there.”
“Yeah, but.” I didn’t quite know what I was trying to say. “It’s— It feels like so much. I didn’t think it would feel like this.”
He held out his hand. “C’mere.”
“I’ve got—”
“I know you do, just come here for a second.”
I put my supplies down and crawled forward until Andreas had me stretched out against his body. When he kissed me, it was gentle, and I melted so fast I could barely keep my head up.
“It does feel like a lot,” he agreed. “It is a lot. But we’ve got the rest of our lives to figure it all out. There’s no time limit on what we have to do or when we have to do it, and there’s no need to cram it all in at once.”
“Well, there goes my plan,” I deadpanned, but he kissed me quiet again.
“It’s like you said in your vows though, right? Plans don’t stay the same—they change, they adapt. And that’s okay, as long as we keep talking to each other. So yeah, you can try to do everything you said you want to all right now, or we can space it out, or we can shower and go to sleep if you want to. I don’t care. We’ve got time.”
“It’s our wedding night,” I pointed out. “Fucking is kind of traditional.”
“You’d be surprised how many couples don’t make it to that on their wedding nights,” he said. “Marcy and I didn’t. We were too goddamn tired after our ne
ver-ending reception.”
“Well.” I kissed him this time. “You’re sweet and thoughtful and I adore you, but there’s no way I’m not going down on you right now.”
“Far be it from me to stop you.”
“Damn right.” I slid back down his body as he bent his knees, and finally came face-to-face with his cock. I might not have been frantic anymore, but I was definitely still eager to get my mouth on him, and from the look of things, Andreas was more than ready for me. I steadied him with my hand, licked the drop of pre-come from his tip, and then wrapped my lips around the head.
Andreas groaned immediately. As much as he loved penetration—and he really did; I was so fucking lucky—there was something about a blowjob that got him hot like nothing else. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had one for so long before he and I got started—Andreas was careful about protecting his partners, and he hadn’t even had another sexual partner between Lisa and me. He could use a dildo when he wanted to, but he couldn’t give himself a blowjob. They made him noisy, and I loved it.
I ran my mouth from the crown down to the top of my hand, about two-thirds of his length, then pulled back, sucking hard and slow.
“Oh fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, yes, please.”
I loved it when he got like this, so I didn’t stop. I slid my hand down while my mouth went up, keeping his skin taut in both directions. Two minutes in and his voice was getting louder, his balls starting to tighten.
“Darren, yeah—”
I let go of his shaft with my hand, got a grip around his sack, and tugged down. “Nope. Not yet.”
“You asshole,” he moaned.
“No, you. Actually, great idea.” I had said I’d draw things out. I opened up the lube and slicked my fingers. “Don’t come until I’m inside you.”
“Do fingers count?”
“Not even close.”
“Fuck,” he sighed. “Then you better get on with it.”
“We’re not on a timetable,” I reminded him sweetly. “I’m just spacing it all out, like you said I should.”
“You are so . . .”
I rubbed a slow, smooth circle around his hole with the pads of my fingers and watched his body shudder with sensation. “Irresistible?”
“Egotistical, maybe.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But at least I’ve got a good reason.” I pushed with both fingers, not hard enough to force my way inside, but he opened for me anyway. Andreas had less patience for prep than I did, which was one of the reasons edging him was so fun. The way he pulled his legs back though, the way he bit his lower lip and shut his eyes when I stroked my fingers inside of him, the way his throat bobbed as he choked back the noises his body wanted to make—hell, he was the one who was irresistible. I kept my hand slow and steady as he gradually loosened up, then bent over and sucked his cock into my mouth and made him go all tight again.
“Darren!” His hands groped over my shoulders, and I settled the left one firmly on the side of my face, where I could feel his ring against my cheek, warm from the heat of his body. He rubbed his thumb across my lips, wet and stretched over his dick. “Jesus Christ.”
I thrust hard with my fingers as I swallowed his cock, and he made a sound like he’d been stabbed, so breathless and intense it either had to come from great pain or great pleasure. Fortunately, I had a good handle on which was which. I kept going until my mouth was sticky with pre-come, and Andreas sounded like he was on the verge of losing his mind.
I pulled back and grinned. “Having fun?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it, rubbing the tips of my fingers over his prostate for the first time and turning whatever he was going to say into “Mmmphffuck.”
“That sounds like a yes to me.”
“Get in me now,” he gritted out.
“Yeah? Feeling impatient?”
“Aren’t you?” he challenged, and—oh my God, yes. It hadn’t been easy to ignore my erection, and as soon as Andreas brought it up, that persistent throb was all I could think about. I’d soaked right through my briefs and into the pants, and wow, I would definitely be paying for dry cleaning before I returned them.
“You win.” I eased my fingers free and undid the pants, kicking the rest of my clothes aside into a pile. I held up a condom questioningly. Most of the time he liked me to wear them so he wouldn’t wake up with his thighs glued together, but sometimes—
“Nah, skip it.”
I used the lube instead, slicking myself gingerly, before I pulled his ankles over my shoulders. I brushed a kiss against the one he’d broken so badly, the surgery scars still bright red and a little puffy, then leaned in until my hips were nearly flush to his ass. I reached down and guided my cock to his hole, then slowly but steadily pressed inside.
“Oh, fuuuck,” I breathed, drawing it out until I was all the way in. “Oh fuck, Andreas . . .”
The angle was perfect for hitting his prostate, every little shift and quiver rubbing up against it, and he wrapped his fingers tight around the expensive comforter and did his best to press down against me. “Move, please.” Andreas never said please so often as when he was in bed, and I loved it.
“Whatever you want.” I took a deep breath and started moving, slow shifts of my hips to start, just a few inches back and forth. We could usually keep a rhythm like this going for a long time, let it all build until we were both desperate to come, but this time we were already there. Andreas looked a breath away from coming untouched, his cock red and swollen, still slick from my mouth and the strand of pre-come that was dripping down the side of it. And me, I’d barely gotten started and I already wanted to let loose inside my husband.
My husband. Oh fuck, I shouldn’t have thought about that, that should not have been such a goddamn turn on. I couldn’t stay slow, had to speed up to match the swell of energy building in my chest, so fast and furious it was going to break my heart if I didn’t let it out. I leaned in and thrust harder, pulled more of those fathomless noises from my husband, more yes, more now, more please. I fucked him until I couldn’t even call it that anymore, because fucking had never felt so good.
I was going to come, and he was coming with me. I reached around to touch his cock, and that was it, that was all it took—one glancing slide of my palm against the head, and he came with a choked-off moan, spasming around me as he painted his chest and abs. He really was irresistible, and I almost bent him in half when I thrust into his ass as far as I could and released. It was perfect. I could have died and I wouldn’t have cared because it felt so impossibly satisfying to be in the moment.
I finally collapsed with a gasp, lowered Andreas’s legs until they were down around my waist, and leaned in until I could rest my head on his chest. He held me there, arms loose and shaking a little, still coming down from the high. That was fine—I didn’t have the breath for speaking either.
Eventually, he broke the silence. “Well, damn. I think we’re off to a good start.”
I chuckled. “Yeah? Not letting you down on the marriage front so far?”
“Not even close.”
“And you really don’t regret not going through with the ceremony and having all of your family and our friends there?”
He craned his neck a little to catch my eye. “Do you?”
I shook my head. “I mostly feel relieved.”
“Same here.” He kissed my forehead. “It’s nice to be in agreement.”
“We should enjoy it while it lasts. I’m sure we’ll find something to argue about before long.”
“Probably.” He didn’t sound concerned. “I was hoping for a shower instead of an argument next, actually.”
“We can do that.” I eased back, separating us with a sigh. “Come on.” I held out my hand and helped steady him as he got to his feet. “We can clean up, then get ready for round two.”
Andreas groaned. “You kill me tonight, and you’ll be a widower long before you’re ready.”
“I’m pret
ty sure that would be the least of my problems.” The vows might stop at death, but I knew deep down that the way I felt about Andreas never would. He was it for me, every grumpy, stubborn, perfect inch of him. Whatever else happened in our lives, in our future together, I could only envision it happening with him. Together we’d get through anything. “Come on. Shower.”
Everything else could wait.
If not for the weapons-grade air-conditioning in our room, the morning sun that came pouring in from the desert would have melted us both. Neither of us had thought to shut the drapes last night—we’d been a little preoccupied—and now our bed was awash in blinding gold rays.
When I failed to convince the drapes to close on their own or the sun to burn out and fuck off, I stumbled out of bed. Squinting behind my hand, I managed to cross the room without tripping on any of the clothes or shoes that still littered the floor. With a few pulls on the cord, the curtains were shut and the sun blocked out. I paused, letting my seared retinas adapt to the newly darkened room. There was still plenty of light spilling in, but it was much more reasonable now.
My eyes finally adjusted, and I picked my way back to the bed and slid in next to Darren. He stirred a little, mumbling into the pillow, and then cuddled up against me. I smiled as I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Back in the beginning, he’d self-consciously joked that he was part spider monkey, and he hadn’t been kidding. Sometimes it was a little too hot, but I still loved it. And hell, considering this room had air being pumped into it directly from Siberia, his body heat was more than welcome.
Who was I kidding? Even if the AC had crapped out and the drapes had jammed open, I wouldn’t have pushed him away.
I pulled him a little closer and kissed the top of his head. He murmured something, but didn’t wake up. Smiling to myself, I ran my hand up and down his arm, and paused when my wedding ring glinted softly in the morning light. I thumbed it, exploring the smooth surface.
Last night had been real. We really had gotten married. There was a document out there—and a copy in Erin’s purse—sealing us together and making us legal husbands in the eyes of the State of Nevada. When we got home, there’d be reams of paperwork to make each other our beneficiaries for insurance and pensions, noting each other as next of kin in case something happened—all that shit that formalized this and made it real to everyone else.