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“Am I heavy?” she asked.

“Not at all,” I answered through clenched teeth.

“Then why are you suddenly tense?”

“I don’t want to drop you. Besides that, your body pressed up against mine has my dick stiffer than ever before. Now behave.” Her smile could be felt against my chest. I clenched my jaw and carried her up the steps.

“Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Lupo,” my housekeeper said, greeting us with a warm smile.

“Goodness, put me down,” Mariana huffed, batting my chest. Every touch went south. Maybe I should have eased this ache before I went after her.

“No. We’ll have our dinner served in the master suite.”

“Yes, Sir. Her belongings have been placed in there as well.”

“Perfect.” As much as I wanted to take her to our room for privacy, I needed our marriage made official. “Where is the officiant?”

“In the kitchen, sneaking in a bite to eat.”

“Tell him we are ready. Where are the papers?”

“On your desk, Sir. Would you like me to retrieve them?”

“Yes, please.”

I nodded and then turned to my bride. “Sit down, my rabbit.” I sat across from her and snapped, having forgotten about the lack of panties. I had seen nothing but her crossed legs; however, the moment she’d part them, her pussy would be in view. “Up, now,” I barked.

We took the stairs to our bedroom. She needed to change, or at least put some underwear on before I lost my mind.

“Damn, you are indecisive. Sit, stand,” she sassed. I pinched her ass, and she yelped. “Wow, you’re a jerk.”

“You don’t have any underwear on. Unless you’re ready to sit on my face as we say our vows, you’re going to put some damn panties on.”

“Oh. Did you see anything?”

“No, unfortunately.”

I opened the door and then walked to the center of the room, setting her down on the bed. “We’re sharing a bedroom?”

“You are my wife.”

“Not yet.”

“In the time it takes for us to sign the document, you will be.”

“Oh.”

“Goodness, this room is too small for us.” Why does her sass get a rise out of me? I allowed no one to talk back to me. Not a soul who wanted to live another day.

“Pussy covers,” I asked, staring at the handwritten label on the box.

“Yes, well, I was just labeling it how I saw it.” She smirked. From the look of success on her face, it wasn’t how she saw it. She wanted to unnerve someone, anyone for that matter. I opened it up and pulled out a pair of white lace ones, holding them up with one finger.

“These don’t look like they cover much.”

“That’s because I’m petite.” My damn hand was bigger than the material.

“Well, then, show me. Slide them on and let me see that pussy covered.”