I wasn't ripping these. No, some things were worth saving, and wedding day panties were one of them.
I locked my gaze on her eyes while she shimmied out of her bra and panties. It was the only safe spot. If I looked at her tits, I'd want my tongue on them. If I looked at her legs, I'd want them wrapped around my waist. If I looked at her ass, well…things would get out of hand quickly.
She placed her underwear in my outstretched hand, and I gestured for her to face the window again. I tucked the fabric into my pocket for later, dropped my trousers and boxers, and gripped my cock. I jerked slowly, letting the head slide over her ass and into the warm, waiting heaven between her legs, but I didn't thrust forward. Not yet.
Part of me wantedeverythingto be different, and it made me feel like a motherfucking caveman.
I liked it.
I wanted my cock to literally rise to the challenge of consummating this marriage and claiming this woman as my wife. I wanted her pussy to hum with the knowledge that it was all mine now. Really, truly mine, and not simply because we loved each other or shared a bed, but because we'd made promises, commitments, vows—and not just the ones we'd shared in front of our friends and family tonight.
But another part of me, the part I knew Tiel was grappling with, wanted everything to stay exactly the same. We'd worked our asses off to findusand makeuswork, and now that we were finally getting good atus, changing it up came with a dose of terror.
"I love you," Tiel said. Her hips rocked back, and I slid against her slippery skin. "Nothing will change that. I love you. My filthy pervert. My best friend. My husband."
I crowded her up against the window, her breasts pressed to the glass, my hand sliding down her leg to grip the back of her knee and my mouth on her neck, and I was so deep inside her I couldn't discern what was mine and what was hers, and I didn't need to because it wasours. We were anusnow, awe, and there was no point at which she stopped and I began. I bit and sucked and swore andthrust thrust thrust. I covered her mouth with my hand when she tripped into that high, screaming wail that I coveted like my personal g-spot merit badge.
Tiel arched away from the window as she came, and she took me with her.
Staring out at the Garden, we lingered there, panting, sweat cooling on our skin, touching. When the shudders and shocks subsided, Tiel led me to bed, plied me with a bottle of orange juice, and reconnected my glucose monitor. She ran her hands through my hair, over my shoulders and chest, and checked the device every few minutes until the numbers started climbing back into normal territory.
I nestled my head between her breasts, dragging my tongue over her skin and loving the taste of her. My wife.
"So…" Tiel scraped her nails over my scalp. "Should we talk about Nick and Erin now, or is that a conversation for another time?"
"Oh, hell no," I said, sighing against her chest. "I'm going to lick your tits and enjoy my life, and not get involved in any of that. Good plan?"
"Great plan," she agreed. "Happy Christmas, my husband."
Happy. There was that word again….but now?
Now I knew happy's story.
I married happy.
I lived happy.
I owned happy.
"Happyeverything, my wife."
10
Tiel
January
Ididn't know wherethe termhoneymooncame from, or what it meant before it was converted into the modern day model of tropical bliss and sex under gauzy mosquito nets, but our honeymoon didn't fit that characterization.
On the one hand, that made sense for us. Spending a week day drunk and lazing on the beach in Hawaii or me flattened on the deck of a sailboat while Sam fished off the coast of Cozumel wasn't in our cards. No, that wouldn't do. We weren't getting in line for the standard-issue honeymoon when the wedding was Mumford & Sons-meets-Van Morrison.
But then again, after thirty-six hours in the air, three flights, and one particularly thorough customs inspection upon arriving in Australia, the standard-issue honeymoon sounded just fine, thank you. There was also a late visit from my period—nope, still not pregnant—and freak thunderstorms and flash floods that left the city of Melbourne rain-soaked and cold for days.
Instead of sunset walks along the shore or some frisky underwater groping, we listened to downpours and hail battering our hotel while the power flickered on and off. Oh, and we were on each other's very last nerves.
Cranky old married couple status achieved.
Melbourne itself was amazing—our bitching and bickering owed nothing to this beautiful city. But everything was soggy and we were beyond exhausted, and the combination of my cramps and Sam's more-erratic-than-usual blood glucose meant we were too wrung out for more than room service andThe Lord of the Ringstrilogy.
