Husband.
Wife.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Jake doesn’t hesitate.
It’s like he’s been waiting for permission.
He pulls me in, his hand sliding around my waist with a possessive heat that draws me flush against him. The movement is confident, instinctive, like his body already knows where I belong.
His other hand cups my jaw.
His thumb drags slowly along my lower lip, just once, just enough to make my breath hitch before he leans down.
And then he kisses me.
Our first kiss as husband and wife.
Our first kiss, period.
There’s nothing tentative about it.
His mouth claims mine in a way that makes my knees soften instantly. It’s deep and slow at first, like he’s tasting the moment, like he wants to remember it. Then it shifts—warmer, hungrier, more certain.
My hands slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath his shirt. He’s solid. Steady. Heat radiates off him, wrapping around me.
I kiss him back just as fiercely.
He makes a low sound against my mouth—something between approval and need—and it shoots straight through me.
Oh.
Oh, this man knows exactly what he’s doing.
His grip on my waist tightens, fingers pressing into my back as he pulls me closer, until there isn’t an inch of space left between us. I can feel the full strength of him, the solid lines of muscle, the controlled power beneath the fabric of his shirt.
The air in the chapel feels ten degrees hotter.
My pulse is everywhere.
He deepens the kiss, tilting his head, taking his time. His stubble grazes my skin, rough in the best way. My fingers curl into his shirt as if I need something to anchor me.
He kisses like he means it—focused, deliberate, intense.
There’s something almost reverent in the way his thumb brushes along my jaw as he holds me there.
He’s a mountain.
And I’m a landslide.
And I never want to stop falling.
"Alright, alright," Gary says, tapping his podium. "Break it up. I’ve got a 3:00 AM 'Goth Wedding' waiting in the wings."
Jake pulls back slowly, his eyes dark and blown out, his breathing as ragged as mine.
We stumble back to the desk to sign the final papers, barely paying attention because we’re both thinking the same thing.
