I pulled back to look at them. “Are you kidding? Manning and I will help you move in. His truck is a monster. I’ll bet we can fit the rest of Val’s apartment in one trip.”
“I can leave the rest behind,” she said, blinking up at him. “Corbin’s house already feels like . . .”
He rubbed her back. “Like what, babe?”
“Home, I guess.”
I looked around my kitchen. I knew that exact feeling. I had also walked into this home and known it was mine. Since then, it had never, not once, felt like anything other than where I belonged.
Tonight hadn’t only been a happily-ever-after for Manning and me. Val, Corbin, and even Tiffany, had each found one, too. From watching the sky move with Manning to telling him forever was too short an amount of time to spend with him, the day had been perfect. And it should’ve been enough. All of this should’ve been enough.
But deep down, I worried it wasn’t.
12
The reception ended just before midnight. My dad had fallen asleep in our living room recliner, so my family was the last to leave. After sleeping apart from Manning the night before, and a full day of being surrounded by company, I was ready for alone time with my husband. It was the only thing keeping me from insisting my family stay in the guestroom rather than the hotel Manning had arranged. That, and I was pretty sure Manning would annul the wedding if I interfered with his impending plans for me in any way.
After I’d spent a few minutes out front recapping the night with my mom and sister, I said goodnight and went to find Manning. He sat facing the wrong way at an empty picnic table out back with a cigar in hand and an exhausted Blue sleeping at his feet. Except for the fact that we were alone, and even the caterers had left, the party could’ve still been going. White lightbulbs crisscrossed over the dance floor we’d rented, plastic plates with cake residue dotted the tables, and a mixed CD played on the speakers, though the volume had been lowered to soft background music.
“I thought you’d be picking up,” I said as I blew out the remaining lit votive candles we’d arranged down the center of each table.
He rested an ankle over one knee. “I put the cake and leftovers away. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”
I continued stacking dessert plates where he’d left off. “I don’t think you’ve ever gone to bed while the house is messy.” I winked at him. “No matter how hard I’ve tried to tempt you away.”
“Tempt me.” He kept his eyes on me. “Maybe tonight’s your lucky night.”
I dumped the dirty plates in a Hefty trash bag and started nesting name cards. “I don’t think it could get any luckier.”
After a pull from his cigar, he nodded at me. “Leave that stuff, Lake.”
I paused. “I should at least take the presents in.”
“Nah. C’mere.”
“We won’t have a lot of time to clean tomorrow. Our flight leaves in the evening, and it’ll take us at least—”
“I’ll pay the dog sitter extra to take care of it. Just come over here.”
Slowly, I zigzagged through the tables toward him. His impatience visibly grew the closer I got. Blue groaned and twitched. “Did you walk her tonight?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Food?”
“Between the first dance and the cake.”
I mock-gasped. “What a good husband.”
I stepped over Blue as Manning opened his knees for me to stand between them. He ran a hand up the back of my thigh. “When can you wear this dress again?”
“Never,” I said. “This was it.”
He squeezed my backside. “Too bad.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to get tired of it once I hang our wedding photos.”
“Not possible.” He flexed his hand around the outside of my hip, pressing his thumb close to my pubic bone. “I’m not ready for you to take it off for good,” he said, his voice turning gravelly, “but it’s also all I can think about.”
“Me too.” I wrapped my hand around his forearm as butterflies erupted in my tummy. “Maybe we should leave this mess for tomorrow.”
“No maybe about it.” He put out his cigar and stood, towering over me, challenging me with his height, his hungry eyes. “Definitely.”
He slipped an arm around my waist and took my hand to sway to “Wonderful Tonight.” Blue looked up at us. “We’re going to dance a few moments,” Manning said, “then I’m carrying you inside.”
“You don’t need to,” I said. “I’ll go willingly.”
“That’s what the groom does at the end of the night.”
“I already entered the house as a married woman. A few times, actually. One of the perils of having the ceremony in your backyard.”
He grunted. “You haven’t been in the bedroom, have you? I’ll take you straight to our bed.”
“No.” I half-smiled, blushing as I teased him. “What does the groom do in the bedroom?”
“The rest’s not suitable for Blue’s innocent ears.” Manning bent, scooped me up into his arms, and walked us up the steps to the house. “Any last requests before we lock ourselves in for the night?”
Arms loosely wrapped around his neck, I closed one eye as I thought it over. “We should probably get water,” I said.
“Hydration. Good call. Did you get enough to eat tonight?”
“Between pork, potatoes, and wedding cake, I’d say so.”
“We’ll bring snacks just in case.” He paused at the back door. “Ready to cross the threshold?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No,” he said. “Not according to the Romans.”
Blue zoomed ahead of us, clattering through her dog door. “What do the Romans have to do with it?” I asked.
“There are two reasons the groom carries the bride.” He readjusted me in his arms. “One is that evil spirits might try to get you through the floor. In my arms, you’re protected.”
“Aw.” I patted his chest. “How sweet. What’s the other reason?”
“Back in the day, brides were supposed to act distraught about being married off. Basically,” he lowered his forehead to mine, “I’m dragging my unwilling bride into my home.”
My stomach clenched with the dip in his voice, his breath near my mouth. “I don’t think anyone can argue I wasn’t willing,” I said.
“Knowing all that, would you rather walk in yourself?”
I got the sense Manning wanted to see this through. On a regular day, there was no place I’d rather be than in his arms—it was only more true of our wedding night. Slowly, I shook my head. Holding each other’s gaze, Manning stooped to jiggle the door open. As he walked us through, my skin tingled, my nipples hardening with anticipation for our night ahead.
“Feel any different?” he asked on the way to the kitchen.
“A little.”
“Me too.”
He set me down on the counter. “Stay there,” he said. “Evil spirits might still be lingering.” He moved around the kitchen, grabbing water bottles from the fridge, a box of Wheat Thins, and a bag of chocolate chips. “This should do it,” he said. “Now we go to the bedroom—but this time, I want your legs around me.”
“That’s going to be tough in this dress,” I said.
“I can help with that.” He put the food and water down and squatted at my feet. He took his time removing my boots, dropping them on the ground. As he ran a hand up the outside of my calf, he pushed my dress up with it. “My only regret today is that I didn’t get to shave your legs this morning. Spending the night apart was a terrible idea.”
As he touched me, I leaned back onto my hands and closed my eyes, only partially aware of what he was saying. “I love you,” I said.
“I know you do, my good girl.” He moved my dress up higher and kissed the inside of one knee, sliding his palms and the fabric up my thighs. “You’re the sweetest of everything,” he said. “Better than cake or pie or even cotton candy.”
“I doubt that,” I said, sighing.<
br />
“Then you should taste yourself.”
I had tasted myself, at Manning’s demand, several times. I shivered at the memory of his fingers in my mouth as his hands inched higher, inviting the night air against my skin. “You’re going to torture me tonight, aren’t you?” I asked.
“I’m going to do everything one man can between sundown and sunrise,” he said. “And I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.”
“Are we starting here?”
“No. We start in our bedroom.” He stood, bunching my dress up around my hips to free my legs. I wrapped them around his waist, sliding up until I felt him hard and long through his pants.
“Get the water.”
I picked up a bottle in each hand, wrapped my arms around his neck, and held on. Manning gathered the rest of the food and walked us down the hall to our room. I shifted against his crotch, warming myself up. “You know,” I said, pulling myself more tightly against him, “you should be extra turned on right now.”
“I doubt that’s possible.”
I kissed his cheek, murmuring, “You’re protecting, providing, and mating me all at once. Keeping the evil spirits away. Bringing snacks you foraged from the kitchen, and . . .”
“And?”
“The mating part.”
“The best part.” He reached our door, which we’d closed off and locked in case any guests had come into the house. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“My hands are full, and the key’s in my shed.”
“Why?”
He dropped the food on the ground. “I didn’t want to carry it in my pocket all night.”
With my back to the door, I only heard the knob wiggle. “What’re you doing?”
“Breaking it.”
“Manning.” I sighed with exasperation. “You can’t go around breaking locks all the time.”
“This one’s extra strong, too,” he said proudly. “Installed by the best—yours truly.”
“So let’s go find the key.”
His bicep flexed against my ribs with the effort. “I can get it.”
“You’ll splinter the whole thing.”
“Then I’ll fix it.” With a snap, I looked over my shoulder as the door swung open. “There we go.”
“The food—”
“I’ll go back for it.”
“But Blue might get into it.”
“That mutt,” he griped, nudging the crackers and chocolate into the room with his boot before kicking the door closed. We had to shut it to get alone time, or Blue would interrupt us—we knew from experience.
Manning pushed my back up against the nearest wall. “I want to fuck you in your wedding dress, Lake.” His mouth was suddenly hot on my neck, his hands squeezing my ass. “Will you let me fuck you in your wedding dress?”
I let my head fall back, giving him better access to my throat. “I have special lingerie for you.”
“And I want to see that, too. I want to taste you everywhere tonight. I want to be wearing your scent like cologne by dawn. But the first time as a married couple, I want your dress on.”
I dropped the water bottles. They thudded heavily on the wood floor, rolling under the bed. I answered him by undoing his belt buckle. “Only if you leave your suit on, too.”
He held me up by my waist so I could get his zipper down. My mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful cock against the fine fabric of his suit, at his urgency to spoil my cream bridal dress bunched between us. I lined him up against me, sliding his head through my wetness. “You told me once you wanted to blemish me. Ruin me. Now’s your chance.”
“Careful, or I’m going to rip right through your dress.”
“The way you did my innocence?” I asked in his ear.
He pushed me harder up against the wall but didn’t enter me. “All I did was claim you. But you were already mine, weren’t you, Birdy?”
He started to press inside me, stealing my breath as he made me wait. “Yes,” I said, looking up at the ceiling.
“Now it’s official. Now, you’re mine to lick and suck and fuck—anywhere, any time.”
I pushed down onto him, but he slowed me by holding my hips. “Please, Manning.”
“Lake.”
I took my eyes from the ceiling to look at him. “Please.”
“Tell me you’re with me,” he said. “That you understand what this is, right here—what it means to me.”
I breathed through my mouth, my mind racing to keep up. Manning going crazy enough for the both of us, deciding when and how to fuck me, talking me into a frenzy—none of that was new. The difference tonight was that I’d stood in front of everyone we knew and made him mine. “You and I are official,” I said to him. “You’re my husband.”
“You’re my wife. Now tell me what you want.”
“I want to be claimed and consumed and made love to by my husband. First against the wall because he can’t wait. Then on the bed he built us. Our bed.”
He thrust halfway in. I arched my back, keeping my eyes on his because he would’ve demanded it anyway.
“I want us to be married in every sense of the word,” I continued.
“Fuck, Lake,” he nearly begged, gripping my hips. He was so big that it always took time—and patience neither of us had. “I can’t believe, after all these years, I haven’t fucked you right open.”
I bit my lip, groaning as I urged him deeper, my heels digging into his ass. “You fuck me open every time.”
Manning plunged the rest of the way in. I held onto his shoulders as he took me, his hot, urgent mouth on mine. His powerful thrusts and skilled fingers brought me to the edge as his lips wandered down my neck. But it was catching sight of us in the floor-length mirror, the groom in his suit, fucking his willing bride in her dress, that brought me to climax.
Manning saw me through my orgasm, then carried me to our bed. He lay me on my back, standing between my legs with determination in his eyes. Still inside me, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth. He hadn’t come, and he didn’t want to—not yet. We had a long night ahead of us.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to get him to. I took his tie with both hands, sliding it through one fist and then the other. “How do you want to come, Bear?” I panted. “In my mouth? My ass?”
His eyes darkened. “I’ve never come in your ass, and you look far too sweet—and I’m far too eager—to start tonight.”
“When did any of that stop you before?”
“You want to play?” he asked. “Flip over.”
My bravado came from tying the knot, plain and simple. I felt empowered being Manning’s wife. But the truth was, we hadn’t yet ventured into that territory, even though I knew from some of Manning’s heat-of-the-moment dirty talk that he was into it. I’d always figured that day would come, and though Manning had claimed me for real today and was about as turned on as I’d ever seen him, I wasn’t sure our wedding night was the right time for this.
“What’s wrong, Goldilocks?” he asked, sliding his hands up my thighs and under my dress as he peeled down my thong. “Suddenly scared you wandered into the wrong bear’s house?”
I shivered, my nipples firming against the lace of my corset. “I don’t know if I’m ready for . . .”
“For?”
“Anal.”
He grinned devilishly, tossing aside my panties. “You’re not. But get on all fours anyway.”
I didn’t need to ask myself if I trusted him. If he said we wouldn’t do it tonight, I believed him—but what did he have planned, then? As Manning removed his boots, I got on my hands and knees, turning away from him. “Why am I in this position?”
“Why do you think?” I heard him whip his belt from its loops, then the rustle of his clothing. “Hike that dress up, Lake.”
The belt didn’t scare me. He’d sometimes spank me in the heat of the moment, but with his father’s history of violence, he’d never hit me—that much I knew. I pulled my dress up over my backside.
Manning had seen me in every position, from every angle, and maybe that was why the wedding dress excited us both—it reintroduced a layer of innocence to our sex life that we’d stripped away years ago.
He ran his palm over my ass cheek, then gently slapped it. “Mmm.”
“What was that for?” I asked, already breathless.
“Allowing someone to play Justin Timberlake at our wedding.”
I started to laugh as I looked back at him but paused. There was nothing funny about the six-foot-five inches of muscular, buck-naked man about to devour me.
I bit my bottom lip as he thumbed my folds apart. “We need a taller bed,” he said.
“Why?”
“So I can eat you standing up.” He got to his knees, and since his Lake Special was still a little too high for him, he urged my knees apart until I was spread and even with his mouth. “That uncomfortable?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Then I better be quick.” He licked from my clit to my asshole, humming with satisfaction. Within seconds his tongue was buried inside me. I dropped my cheek to the bedspread, grabbing the fabric in two fists. Pleasure tingled up my spine, my face burning hotter and hotter.
Manning splayed his fingers on my lower back and pressed the wet tip of his thumb to my asshole. “This okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, partly curious, but mostly too aroused to let him stop.
He breached the tight opening. His hand was so large, his fingers felt as if they spanned halfway up my back. I wanted his mouth on me again, so I backed onto his hand. “Fuck me, Lake. I could finish myself off just watching you from this angle.”
“Make me come,” I begged. “However you want.”
With the slightest pressure, he pushed his thumb inside me, that forbidden spot accepting him easier than I would’ve thought. The snug fit, the rawness of our wedding-night excitement driving us forward, and his tongue back on me as his thumb pumped in and out would’ve normally been enough to make me climax—but right then, I needed more.
“Manning?”
“Yeah, Birdy,” he said between my legs, his deep voice vibrating through me.
“There’s something else I want.”
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 98
