Ryder’s gaze is locked on his wife as Zeta walks down the aisle next, but I barely notice her because Sydney and Jerry have appeared at the end of the aisle, and my beautiful bride is all I can see.
My heart is pumping like crazy, and the vein in my neck is throbbing as I drink her in. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and sexy as hell.
“Wow,” Wilder says. “She’s stunning.”
“You’re a lucky bastard,” Linc says.
I can’t even form words. She looks like a real-life princess. Regal, graceful, and beautiful, wearing a glorious smile, her joy obvious to everyone. A messy ball of emotion clogs my throat as I watch my bride walk toward me.
The instant our eyes connect, butterflies go crazy in my chest. I’m feeling so much as she approaches, and I hope I can find my voice to make our vows. This is the culmination of every fantasy I’ve ever had about my wedding day, and life really doesn’t get better than this.
“Hi.” Sydney beams at me when they reach the altar.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” I say, pressing a soft kiss to her lips because I cannot hold myself back. My gaze roams over every inch of her as Jerry places her hand in mine. “How did I get so lucky to call you mine?” My voice cracks, and tears well in my eyes.
“You look sexy as fuck,” she says with matching tears in her eyes. “I love you.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
“Stop it. You’re going to make me cry,” Jerry says. He kisses Sydney on the cheek. “Be happy, girl. You deserve it.”
“Thanks for looking after my girl.”
“Anytime,mate,” he teases before walking over to take his seat.
The celebrant clears his throat as we turn around, holding hands and grinning like lovesick fools.
“Let’s begin.”
* * *
“Come with me, Mrs. King,” I say, snatching my wife’s hand and dragging her away from the champagne reception on our terrace. We were married fifty-six minutes ago, and I can’t wait any longer to fuck my bride. We’ve been chatting with our guests and accepting congratulations while enjoying the glorious sunshine, some delicious canapés, and expensive champagne.
“J,” Sydney hisses. “We can’t leave our guests.”
I pop a quick kiss on her lips. “Yes, we can. They’ll be calling us for dinner soon, and I cannot wait until later to feel you around me.”
“Jesus. You’re insatiable.”
I drill her with a look. “I’ve three words for you. Pot. Kettle. Black.” Sydney has been jumping me nonstop lately. I have zero complaints.
“Oh, well, when you put it like that.” She grins, urging me forward. “Let’s hurry.”
Five minutes later, she’s standing with her hands against the wall in our master suite, her ass in the air and her dress hiked up to her waist, as I drive inside her.
“Goddamn it, baby, you feel incredible. I’m not going to last, wifey.”
“J.” Her soft tone has me stalling for a moment. She looks over her shoulder at me with tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing.” She smiles at me. “I just want you to know how indescribably happy you’ve made me today.”
I lean in and kiss her passionately. “Same, baby. I love you so fucking much. Sometimes, the intensity of it scares the shit out of me.”
“We were made for one another, and I love our life. I’m so excited for our future.”
“Same, baby.”
