Oh no. And that man…
Maximo growls, low and threatening. “That’s my sister! You’re a dead man, Niall Bane.”
Second Epilogue
MAXIMO
Irap my knuckles on the closed door. From the other side, I hear the air conditioner click on in an attempt to battle this summer heatwave we’re having in New York City. A rustling sound follows. Then the door cracks open.
Elena gasps. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to claim what’s mine.” With a feral smirk, I push the door open and stride into the small room.
“You aren’t supposed to see me before the ceremony,” she chides, looking delicious in all that palest of pink satin. This wedding gown Skye Adair created especially for my wife, from concept to the last stitch. She glows like a goddess.
“Sit down,” I growl, stalking toward her.
“I can’t, my dress will wrinkle. Maximo, what?—?”
I drop to my knees in front of her and lift her skirt up to her waist. She gasps as I hook one of her knees over my shoulder and bury my face in her hot cunt. The thin lace fabric is no match for my ravenous tongue.
She moans, all protests forgotten. I push the fabric to one side and pump my fingers into her, slow and deep as my tongue flicks her clit. In seconds, her thighs shake. She rides my face like a good girl, chasing her pleasure.
With a silent scream she comes on my fingers. I remove the digits and suck them clean.
Before she’s come down from her high, I spin her around and bend her over a small table. Freeing my cock, I line myself up and bottom out in her wet warmth. Her insides flutter and I groan.
Since we need to be downstairs for our vow renewal wedding in less than five minutes, I don’t waste any time. I take her hard and fast.
When she’s close again, I spank her clit—the fastest way, I’ve learned, to send her over the edge.
This time she can’t suppress her scream. She cries out. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in this whole damn church just heard her. My grin turns possessive.
Chasing my own release, the small room fills with the erotic sound of flesh slapping flesh. On a guttural cry, I empty myself inside of her sweet pussy. She’s so fucking perfect.
I carefully pull out and put her panties back in place. Leaning over her, I whisper in her ear, “Don’t you dare clean yourself up. You’re going to marry me with my cum dripping down your thighs. Then I’m going to lick it from your skin on our wedding night.”
She shivers beneath me, and nods.
I kiss her neck. “See you at the altar.”
Quickly, I slip from the room and make my way downstairs. Everyone’s already seated and waiting for the ceremony to begin.
We’ve spent the past year planning every detail of this wedding together. From the venue, to the catering, to theabundance of pink flowers decorating every surface. Arianna helped when necessary, but most of this is the fruition of Elena and I working together in the quiet evenings, around our business affairs and her writing schedule.
The clip-clop of hooves echo through the space, drawing all eyes to the back of the room. Elena enters, riding side saddle on Midnight. My gaze rakes over her as I commit every second of this day to memory.
Her eyes trap mine in their grey depths. I find not a single hesitation, no conflicting emotions, just… love. I swallow hard. This is everything I hoped marrying Elena would be like.
I got it wrong the first time. But not this time.
As Midnight nears, she brings him to a halt. I step forward and wrap my hands around her waist, slowly lowering her to the floor. She smiles and my heart skips a beat. Hand in hand we take our place before the priest.
The horse is led away so that everyone may see us as we stand before these witnesses and God.
As the priest’s voice rings out, echoing in the cavernous church, I let everything fade into the background. All I see is my beautiful wife.
We recite our words and exchange vows. Oaths, rings, and finally a kiss as the world erupts in applause all around us. But all I hear is the beating of her heart. All I know is how perfectly she fits in my arms, how she tastes of many blessed years to come.
