Page 102 of Sweet Oblivion

“Someone has to take care of you,” he murmurs as his legs eat up the distance, and another wall around my heart cracks and crumbles.

No one has ever taken care of me but me.

But I might just like letting this man do it for a change.

“Ryker...” He stops on the steps of the wraparound porch, holding me like I weigh nothing. Like I’m something precious to be treasured. “Please don’t break my heart.”

“I’ll protect it with my life, Delaney.”

Tears gather in my eyes as he presses his lips to mine, soft and so damn tender. But the tears fall, no matter how hard I fight to hold them back in.

He opens the door like he’s been here before and takes the stairs two at a time before turning down a hall and walking through a set of double doors leading to a candlelit bedroom with a massive cherrywood four-poster bed in the center, covered in rose petals. A beautiful song plays softly in the background. One I’m sure I heard earlier tonight.

Gently, I’m placed on my feet and steadied before Ryker kisses the rings on my finger. “Dance with me, Delaney.”

“Always, Ryker.” I don’t know what it is, but this moment, right here. This simple quiet moment between just us... this one scares me more than any other today. But that’s a lie. I do know what it is. This moment is real. This moment is just for us. Not for show. Not because someone said to smile. And this moment is the one that wrecks me.

With my head on his chest, I move with my husband so far past the point of gone, I’m not sure I’m ever coming back.

“Do you trust me, Delaney?” His words are a whisper against my face. Hot and heavy and scarier than any question he’s ever asked.

Because the answer is easy, and that’s the hardest part.

The answer leaves me open and vulnerable.

Pulling my head back so he can see my mouth, I run my hand along his jaw. Anchoring myself to him. To this moment. “I do trust you, Ryker.”

“Thank fucking God.”

And like a switch has been flipped... like he needs me more than his next breath, more than the air he breathes, he’s on me. His mouth on mine. His tongue tangling with mine as he swings me into his arms and carries me to the four-poster bed and lays me on the petals.

“Have I told you how incredible you look in this dress, baby?”

His eyes are hungry as he licks his lips and rips his tie free, but I’m not here to be a bystander on my own wedding night. I push up to my knees and crawl to him. My fingers going to the shiny black buttons of his crisp white shirt. Working each one free until I shove it off his shoulders and toss it to the floor, giving me unfettered access to his beautiful chest.

I press a kiss to his heart. “You may have told me earlier, but it’s still nice to hear.”

“Oh, I’m going to be nice, baby.” He spins me around and presses his lips against my neck. His hot breath teasing my skin as his fingers make quick work of the dozens of tiny pearl buttons lining the back of my dress. He presses kiss after kiss down my spine and groans, “Fuck, baby. These dimples...” His lips worship the two dimples above my ass. “I’m fucking obsessed with them.”

Looking over my shoulder, I smile at the sight behind me.

“Ryker... wait.” I pull away and stand on shaky legs, letting the thin Italian silk straps of my gown slide down my arms, and carefully push my dress down my body, then step out of it. Suddenly nervous, standing here in a matching Italian silk thong the girls gifted me with a wedding night negligee set I doubt I’ll be wearing and absolutely nothing else.

The cool air licks my skin, and Ryker chokes on his own breath.

“My God, Delaney.” He drops his ass to the bed, and I step between his legs as his hands go to my hips, and he buries his face in my chest.

I dig my hands in his hair and hold him, wondering why touching him calms my racing nerves.

Why this feels so right.

He lifts me again and tosses me to the bed with a bounce,and before a hysterical laugh bubbles up from my throat, he’s on me. His hands slide to the two thin silk strings of my thong, and this man snaps them right off my body. Rips them with his bare hands.

Holy shit.

Why is that hot?

And why, when he stuffs them in his pocket with a deliciously cocky grin, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, does my pulse pound faster?