Like everything else I’d done after leaving the homestead, this was my choice. What I wanted.
No one could take that from me.
We’d done the whole thing in Peggy’s garden over at the house, with the goats close enough to watch. Nickel walked me down the aisle; Haven and Millie had cried, Daniela had whispered to me later some very filthy things that I hadn’t stopped thinking about since. Forrest had stood with both of his brothers at the altar, waiting…Sawyer tearing up a little, Emmett stoic. It was so strange—Emmett looked just like him, but they couldn’t have been more different.
And Forrest? He cried.
And I cried too, and it wasperfect.
Now I was laughing as he picked me up at the threshold, my arms around his neck, my belly too big to be doing this and Forrest doing it anyway. It was getting cold; I was wearing his suit jacket, his shirt unbuttoned at the neck.
Nickel was staying at the main house tonight.
…we had other plans.
Forrest carried me right through the kitchen to the bedroom, then he placed me gently on the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he pulled off his already-loosened tie and tossed it on the floor.
He looked so happy. So,sodifferent than he had the first time I saw him…reticent to talk to me, to hope.
And when he got on his knees and spread my legs, he looked even happier.
“Mrs. Holt…” he murmured…sliding both hands along my inner thighs…parting my legs and shuffling closer. The white fabric pooled at my hips, Forrest getting closer, closer… “I have been dying to do this all night.”
“Just tonight?”
“All day.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee. “You’ve been in this dress since two o’clock.” Kissed the other knee. “Through the wedding…the reception.” He kissed my inner thigh, right where I was ticklish. “The damn cake cutting.”
“You poor thing.”
“I was awfully patient.” He was so close now, his fingers hooked in the waist of my lace underwear. “And now I deserve a reward.”
His mouth clamped down over my pussy and I arched against the bed.
The heat of him…his tongue, his lips, working me up and down. He held my legs open as he devoured me, my hand finding his hair and pulling hard on it without even thinking about it.
“Forrest—” I gasped.
He groaned against me,into me. “Fuck, I’ve been dying to make my wife come,” he growled. “Come on, Willa. We’re setting a record tonight.”
I rolled my hips, chasing the friction, grinding against his mouth as I let out a loud, unbridled moan. He liked hearing me; he’d always said that. And with everyone still at the party, no one would hear us in here.
And it was our wedding night…so I wasn’t sure if I cared.
The heat was excruciating; his tongue lashing my clit. When he slipped one finger inside me, I bucked, and when he hooked it against my g-spot?—
“I’m coming!” I gasped. “Oh God…oh God…”
He worked me through every second of it, his mouth and his hands moving in rhythm until I was shaking and oversensitive and pulling at his hair to make him stop.
He didn’t stop, not really. He kissed my inner thigh instead…then the other. Then he stood up and looked down at me, spread out on the bed in my wedding dress, and his expression went dark with promise.
“That’s one,” he said, hands going to the buttons of his shirt.
“Forrest—”
“I told you we’re setting a record.” He shrugged out of his shirt, reached for me. “Come here.”
I stood up, and Forrest gently turned me so my back was to him. His hands came up my sides again, one big hand sliding along my thigh, then in front.
