I trail off, cheeks burning as vivid memories flood back: Forrest pinning my wrists, his mouth between my thighs, the way he thrust deep inside me while growling that I was his wife, the second round where he took me slow and deep while looking into my eyes.
He nods, that easy smile spreading across his face, though I catch a flicker of fear, like he’s waiting for me to bolt. “We sure did. Best night of my life.” He glances at the certificate, then back at me, his expression open and honest. “Do you regret it, darlin’?”
I bite my lip, trying to sort through the whirlwind inside me. My body still hums with vivid memories of his hands, his mouth, the way he had worshipped every curve like I was something precious and wild at the same time. The panic is real, but so is the deep, electric pull that hasn’t faded even in the sober light of day.
“I don’t know,” I admit, voice softer than I expect. “Part of me is panicking because this is insane. We met yesterday. We got drunk on moonshine, made out against a brick wall like teenagers, decided a courthouse sounded like a fun adventure, and then spent half the night fucking like we’d been waiting years for each other. But the other part of me…” I look down at the ring on my finger, then back into his kind hazel eyes. “The other part remembers how right it felt when you slid this on myfinger. How you kissed me like you meant every word. How you felt inside me last night.”
Forrest sits up fully now, the quilt pooling around his hips. He takes my hand in both of his, dwarfing it completely. “I remember every bit of it, too. The way you laughed when we walked into the courthouse. The way you looked at me when you said ‘I do.’ I wasn’t so drunk that I didn’t know what I was doing, Sloane. I wanted to marry you.”
His straightforward honesty steals my breath. There are no games, no careful hedging, just big, genuine Forrest telling me exactly how he feels. It loosens the panic's grip a little.
“We should probably talk about this,” I say, though my free hand has already drifted to rest against his warm chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “Like rational adults. Figure out what happens next.”
Forrest’s thumb strokes slow circles over the back of my hand. “We can talk. But first…” He leans in, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss that starts gently and quickly deepens. “I woke up next to my wife for the first time. Feels like something worth celebrating before we get too serious.”
The pull between us remains electric, undeniable. One kiss turns into another, and then I am being eased back against the pillows as his big body covers mine. Forrest moves with slow, possessive care this morning, like he has all the time in the world. His mouth trails hot kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and lower, lavishing attention on every curve until I am arching into him, fingers threading through his thick hair.
“God, you feel perfect,” he growls against my skin, voice rough with morning gravel and desire. “My wife. So soft. So sweet. So fucking wet for me already.”
I tease him right back, my sassy mouth finding his ear as I whisper exactly what I want. “Then take your wife. Show me again how much you meant those vows last night.”
He does.
He leans in and kisses me. The kiss starts gently but quickly grows heated, his tongue sliding against mine in a sensual rhythm that makes my toes curl. His big hands roam over my body with reverent possession, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until they tighten into hard peaks. I arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.
“That's it,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Let me feel you, wife. Let me taste every inch of what's mine now.”
He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, and lower. His mouth closes over one nipple, sucking gently at first, then harder, while his hand kneads my other breast. I thread my fingers through his thick hair, holding him to me as pleasure sparks through my body.
When he finally moves lower, spreading my thighs wide with his broad shoulders, I’m already trembling. He looks up at me, hazel eyes dark with hunger.
“Gonna eat this pretty pussy until you’re shaking for me,” he growls. “Want to taste how wet my wife gets for her husband.”
He licks me slowly from entrance to clit, a long, deliberate stroke that makes my hips jerk. Then he does it again, savoring me like I’m his favorite meal. When he reaches my swollen clit he sucks it gently into his mouth, tongue flicking in perfect rhythm while two thick fingers slide deep inside me, curling to stroke that sensitive spot.
“Oh God, Forrest…” I moan, hips bucking against his face.
He hums in approval, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through me. “That’s right. Ride my tongue, baby. Let me feel you come apart.”
His fingers pump deeper, faster, while his mouth works my clit with relentless precision. The pleasure builds in slow, powerful waves until I can’t hold back. I come hard on his tongue, crying out his name, thighs clamping around his head as my hips buckwildly. He doesn’t stop, he keeps licking and sucking, drawing out every shudder until I’m a trembling, breathless mess.
Before I can catch my breath, he climbs up my body, eyes locked on mine. He lines himself up and slides into me in one long, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt. We both groan at the perfect fit.
“Fuck, Sloane,” he rasps, staying still for a moment so I can feel every thick inch of him stretching me. “You’re so tight. So wet. Taking your husband’s cock so beautifully.”
He starts to move with slow, powerful rolls of his hips that make the bed creak and my breath hitch with every thrust. His hands pin my wrists above my head again, while his mouth claims mine in deep, claiming kisses.
“Look at me,” he commands, voice low and rough. “Want to see my wife while I make love to her.”
I meet his hazel eyes, dark with heat and something far more tender. He moves with deliberate, sensual strokes, grinding deep on every thrust so I feel him everywhere.
“You feel so good,” he growls against my lips. “So tight and warm around my cock. My wife. All mine. Gonna fill you up again and again until you know exactly who you belong to.”
The words send me spiraling. I wrap my legs around his waist, meeting every deep thrust, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure builds in lush, rolling waves. He fucks me slower but harder, the wet sound of our bodies coming together filling the room along with my moans and his low, possessive growls.
“Come for me, Sloane,” he rasps, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside me again and again. “Come on your husband’s cock. Let me feel you squeeze me while I fill you up.”
I shatter with a sharp cry, my walls clenching around him so tightly it drags him over the edge with me. He buries himself deep and comes hard, pulsing inside me as he groans my name against my neck, hips jerking with every spurt.
