When she starts toward the house, I catch her wrist. She gives me a look—half question, half warning. I pull her close and murmur, “Meet me in our bedroom.”
Her brows lift higher, but I just wink and take off at a jog, slipping into the house through the garage before anyone can stop me.
Guests are starting to arrive, and I give Brooks and his daughter a brief wave as he snags a bottle of milk from my fridge before I sprint up the stairs.
I slip off my gray tux jacket and hang it up so it doesn’t wrinkle. Quinn better not keep me waiting long or she’s gonna be late walking down the aisle.
I’m jittery, a mixture of nerves and anticipation buzzing through me like a hive of bees. I’m wound up too tight. I need Quinn here to ground me, to anchor me in the way only she can.
The bedroom door clicks open, and she glides inside, a vision in white.
“I had to tell Marlowe I had a nervous stomach and to let me use the bathroom up here in peace to get her to let me out of her sight.”
“Thank fuck,” I say, closing the distance between us in two strides. “I’m not sure her following you in here would have stopped me today.”
She giggles. “God, I love you.”
I smirk. “I love you too. Now, let your husband fuck you in this dress, hm?”
“I like the sound of that.”
So do I. More than anything.
I lead her to the accent chair that’s pushed against the wall—one that Allie convinced me to buy when she was helping me decorate the place. The back is curved, and there’s an antique standing mirror to the right of it. It’s the perfect stage for what I want.
“You ready to be mine, Quinnie?”
Her eyes meet mine. “I’ve always been yours.”
My thumb catches on the vintage gold marquise ring I’d found to go with the wedding band I would give her—the same band my dad had given my mom on their wedding day. Using his band as ours had been my way of making him a part of the ceremony.
The smile I give her feels permanently etched on my face now. I haven’t been able to stop since the moment I slid that grass ring on her finger.
She lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to my palm. The simple touch unravels me all over again—love, awe, need.
“On your knees on the chair, honey.” I slowly ease the fabric of her dress up her thighs, hoping it doesn’t wrinkle too much. There are way too many buttons on this thing for me to take it off.
She does as I ask, leaning over the curved back of the chair as I relieve myself from the confines of my slacks. My fingers slide between her legs.
“No panties on your wedding day?” I click my tongue at her. “Filthy girl.”
She smirks at me over her shoulder. “You know how I feel about undergarments.”
I bunch up the fabric of her dress and hitch it up above her ass, so I can see the jeweled plug I put in this morning still in place. The gem is her something blue, and I’m insanely gratified that she’s kept it in.
I let my finger graze briefly over it. “How does it feel?”
She groans softly. “It makes me desperate to have you inside me.”
“Good,” I say, gripping her hip with one hand while I notch myself at her entrance with my other.
Her back is arched, ass up, jeweled plug sparkling as the sun hits it through the window. She’s already dripping, and I can’t wait to devour her later tonight, to taste every inch of her. Her legs shake as she tilts her hips higher, wanting me to fill her up.
I slide my cock through the slickness between her thighs, spreading a mixture of her arousal and my pre-cum over her clit. She’s wound up now too, and I’m eager to give her the release her body’s begging me for.
“You want me to feed my cock into your wet pussy, Quinnie?”
“Yes,” she gasps. “Please. Hurry.”
