Chapter Fifteen
Marc held Angelina’s hand as they made their way up the grand staircase from the lobby to the honeymoon suite. He still wore his uniform and Angelina her dress, having just left the reception. But the moment he crossed that threshold, he’d finally get his hands on those buttons and reveal the luscious body the dress had hidden from him all day.
“I love Bella Montagna,” Angelina said. “It’s almost as if we’re at a resort in the Dolomites.”
“Would you like to go there someday?” He hadn’t thought about a honeymoon in the mountains, because they lived on a mountain already. Would she be equally thrilled with the trip he had planned for them over the next ten days?
“I love to travel, especially with you, but with my restaurant and your career as an EMT—not to mention studying for your paramedic certification now—I think we’ll have to put that off for a while. I’m just thrilled that we’re going to have nine days before heading back to our crazy schedules.”
They both loved what they did, despite how little time it left for them to be alone this past year, but their careers would settle down to a predictable routine eventually. Until then, they’d have to get creative at carving out more time for each other.
But the important thing was the quality of the time they did have together. Staying in the moment as they stole every precious minute together would be the key to wedded bliss.
At the second floor hallway, he retrieved the keycard from his jacket and led her to the door at the end of the hall. They’d enjoy this suite until leaving to catch their flight on Gunnar’s jet out of Eagle tomorrow evening.
Marc opened the door but halted her when she started to walk through.
“Are you forgetting something?”
She furrowed her brow. “I thought you had our luggage brought up here already.”
He shook his head with a grin then placed his arm under her thighs to swoop her into his embrace.
“Oh!” She regained her composure quickly and wrapped her arms around his neck. “How could I forget this part?”
Fortunately, he hadn’t. This might not be the threshold of their new home—and he’d do it again there when they returned from their honeymoon—but he wouldn’t start their marriage without performing the custom he knew began in ancient Rome.
He stepped into the living room of their suite with her adoring gaze on him. How’d he get to be such a lucky bastard? He placed a lingering kiss on her lips then released her legs so that her body slid slowly down his. His groin tightened in anticipation. Waiting for tonight had made this past week the longest of his life.
They’d had so much stress surrounding the wedding preparations this month that sex had been the furthest thing from their minds. He’d swapped two shifts with the two other EMTs at his station in order to have more time for their honeymoon. Both were happy to give Marc this time in exchange for them not having to work on Labor Day or Halloween, respectively.
Not to mention the fact that Marc and Angelina’s house had been filled with out-of-town guests all week. The last time they’d tried to have sex this week, Angelina had been unable to achieve an orgasm, so he didn’t force it. Their brief period of abstinence only made him want her more.
“Marc! Look at this place!” She spun around and took in one of the resort’s most lavish suites. It was all he could do to tear his gaze away from her ass to see the room through her eyes as she wandered around the room checking everything out.
Ceiling beams led the eye to a bay window that took up most of the exterior wall. While she couldn’t tell at night, he knew a stand of Colorado spruce trees blocked anyone from seeing into the room, so he’d instructed that the drapes remain open. A gas fire burned, adding warmth to the room, even though it was late June. He’d asked to have it lit when housekeeping came in for turn-down service because he intended for her to be naked posthaste and wouldn’t want his new bride taking a chill.
Unless, of course, he chose to play with ice cubes again.
A bakery box sat on the coffee table next to a bowl of strawberries and a magnum of his favorite Trentodoc chilled in an ice bucket. Rather than another bottle of champagne, he’d had a little taste of Northern Italy sent from the wine cellar to their suite.
“I’ll be right back.” Angelina hurried from the room, hiking up her voluminous dress en route to the head. He crossed the room to pick up the bottle and peel away the foil.
When she reentered the room, she gravitated toward the heat of the fire. He almost wished Megan was here to capture a photo of her silhouetted against the fire with that sexy hairdo and her exquisite, curve-hugging gown before ridding her of both. Remembering his phone, he pulled it out and snapped a few pics of his unsuspecting bride. The images would help get him through those lonely nights away from her after he went back on duty.
Now, though, all he wanted was for her to be naked and for her hair to be in its natural state, long and flowing.
“We might not be in the Dolomites”—he popped the cork—“but we can certainly enjoy a wine made there.” He half-filled the two goblets. “This bottle comes from Maso Martis vineyard’s 2011 vintage, significant because some of the grapes that went into making this wine were harvested the same month that I met you.”
She smiled. “Oh, Marc. You are incredibly romantic, and I love you for it.” She closed the gap between them and placed a kiss on his cheek before accepting a half-filled goblet of the sparkling rosé.
He lifted his to her. “To a lifetime of love—and hot, passionate sex.”
“Hear, hear!” Angelina giggled as they clinked glasses, and each took a sip. She closed her eyes and moaned as the smooth flavors filled her mouth. Merda, he wanted to fill that mouth, too. His cock hardened, but he’d control himself long enough to let her finish at least one glass of the expensive wine while he decided where he wanted to start. There was no end to the number of ways he intended to enjoy his voluptuous bride’s body tonight.
He tossed back the rest of his wine.
* * *
The sparkling wine tickled all the way down her throat. She hadn’t really had much to drink at the reception and didn’t want to get more than a slight buzz tonight, because she was ready to strip that sexy sailor out of his uniform. She, too, guzzled the rest of hers, and both set their glasses down on the table.
The strawberries looked delicious, and she guessed that box contained the cake he’d asked be sent here. Would he exact revenge on her for smashing that slice of cake into his face at the reception? Or would he let her enjoy it by smearing some on her breasts and licking it off, like he did the day of the cake tasting?
She loosened his bowtie, never taking her eyes off him, but he captured her hands before she could start unbuttoning his shirt. She surrendered to his smoldering gaze, recognizing the instant when his Dom came out to play. Marc had been hinting since last night’s rehearsal dinner that he definitely wanted to play tonight, and after their stress-filled week—her preparing for the wedding and Marc working insane hours—they were both more than ready.
“Turn around.”
Angelina didn’t hesitate to follow his command. His lips grazed the side of her neck as he brushed his knuckles down the exposed part of her back.
“I love this dress on you, especially this open back.” His tongue licked down her spine before reaching the fabric of the dress again. “But these buttons have been on my mind since the moment I saw them. I’m looking forward to seeing you out of the dress even more.”
“Please, Sir, even though they’ve been uncomfortable to sit on, be gentle with the buttons. Our daughter might one day want to wear this dress.” She could just picture him ripping it at the seams for quicker access. He merely chuckled, which didn’t tell her what he had in mind at all.
“Interlock your hands behind your head.”
He usually saved this pose for when she was already naked and he wanted to lift her girls, but it wasn’t for her to question why. She placed her
hands over her updo, laced her fingers, and waited.
Moments later, his hands brushed the curve of the fabric covering her ass. Would he be surprised at what he was about to discover? No doubt, but he would also be pleased. And pleasing this man was utmost on her list of priorities.
Marc undid the hook holding the top of the dress together, then immediately began unbuttoning the cloth-covered buttons over her ass. His warm hands occasionally skimmed the bare skin on her back, and he’d probably only gotten to the fourth or fifth button when he muttered, “Merda.”
She grinned. “Is everything all right, Sir?” A shiver of raw sexuality coursed through her.
“So you really wore no panties to the altar?”
“I won’t tell Father Bancroft if you won’t, Sir.”
“Gesù, woman! It’s probably best I didn’t know, or I might have messed up your dress beyond repair in the limo ride to the reception.”
She giggled, but it died when his tongue licked down the crease of her ass. Drawing in a sharp breath, she waited. Instead of continuing to undo her buttons, he stood and pressed himself against her back, his hands cupping her breasts.
“This dress has got to go, one way or another,” he whispered in her ear. “Help me, or it might be in shreds in the next few seconds.”
Angelina lowered her arms in an instant, and while Marc undid a few more buttons, she tugged the sleeves down her arms until the bodice fell forward and bared her breasts. Although he couldn’t see them, his hands zeroed in immediately on her nipples, pinching and twisting them until she creamed a little more. She bit her lower lip to keep from losing her composure, although he hadn’t told her she needed to be stoic.
Marc’s thumbs hooked the dress at her hips and he pushed it down until it pooled at her feet. She started to bend down to pick it up, but a slap on her butt cheek stilled her. “Help me undress.”
She turned, and his red-hot gaze pierced hers before shifting his focus to her breasts. “Gorgeous, woman. The most gorgeous woman in the world, and you’re mine.”
She blushed at his words but went to work slipping off his coat and placing it carefully onto the sofa before unbuttoning his shirt and baring that mouthwatering chest. She wanted to run her fingers through the tufts of hair at the center, but her instructions were to get him out of his uniform, so that was her primary focus.
She undid the belt and buttons, and his rigid cock sprang out. “I see I’m not the only one who went commando today.”
“Angelina…” His warning tone told her she had a job to do, and she pushed the pants down his legs before remembering he still wore his shoes and socks.
“Lift your left foot, Sir.” He did so, and she untied and slipped off the shoe then his sock before asking him to lift the other one and doing the same. His cock was so close to her mouth she could taste it. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she took a quick lick. Her tongue darted out to flick against the underside of his hard rod. His sharp intake of air told her she’d hit the spot, but he was soon hauling her up by her hair.
“Not so fast. If anyone’s getting a first taste, it’s going be me. I can smell your arousal.”
“Perhaps you should kick those pants off, and we can head to the bedroom.”
“Who’s calling the shots, amore?”
“You are, Sir.”
“That’s right. Now, present that pretty little ass for me. Bend over the arm of that sofa, and spread your legs.”
She nearly came at his words but managed to take up the position he’d ordered her into while he finished undressing. Would she be punished for not completing her task before getting completely sidetracked? The thought of a spanking made her even hotter. When the leather of his belt cracked over her ass, she moaned. Don’t stop, Sir. Please!
Several additional blows fell before he tossed the belt onto the sofa in front of her face. “That ought to teach you not to disobey me again.”
“Yes, Sir.” She knew he’d merely found the slightest excuse for an infraction so he could give her what she craved more than anything except that rock-hard cock he was about ram into her pussy. Mio Dio, was she ever wet and ready.
But instead of his cock, she got his tongue, teeth, and lips. He nipped at her pussy lips, making her spread her legs a little wider to give him better access to her molten core. He avoided her clit, which ached with need, and lapped up her juices like a man in the desert. He rammed his fingers inside her—it must have been three at once. Time for her to spring her second surprise on him.
“Sir, there’s something you should know.”
He pulled away from her. “Are you in any pain? You have your safewords.”
“No, it’s not that. I feel divine. I just wanted to tell you that…well”—why was she hemming and hawing?—“this week, I’ve been wearing my plugs.” That was as close as she intended to get to asking him to fuck her up the ass on her wedding night.
* * *
Gesù, take me now.
Marc had hoped to pleasure her first, although clearly the woman was as fond of anal as he was, but hearing her words had him close to shooting his load down her legs and not where it counted.
“Do. Not. Move.”
He hurried into the bedroom, where earlier he’d left his toy bag, and pulled out some lube and a condom. Might as well do this now then shower before continuing this marathon night of lovemaking with his bride. He rolled on the condom and squirted the lube on his cock before returning to the living room where her glorious ass was exposed and waiting for him. He liberally coated her puckered star with lube as well and stroked her clit to make sure she was as close to exploding as he was.
“Oh, yesss!” Her hips bucked as she moaned.
They hadn’t had anal for months, though, so he needed to be gentle. “What size plugs did you use?”
“I inserted the biggest one two days ago. Even wore it to daVinci’s.”
Fuck!
Unable to wait a moment longer, he pressed his cock’s head against her opening. “Bear down.” She pushed back against him and took him in with a plop. Merda! He tried to pull out before plowing into her a little harder, but her ass gripped him and wouldn’t let go. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”
“Don’t you dare die on me yet, husband! Now, fuck me!”
He didn’t even care that she’d just topped him but gave her a perfunctory swat to the ass cheek anyway. Her sphincter muscle squeezed him even harder, and he rammed his way home. After a moment, he pulled back and rammed her again.
“Yes! Like that, Sir! Harder!”
Angelina would always be a brat, always topping from the bottom. But he didn’t care at the moment. They developed a rhythm he knew wouldn’t last long. “Here comes the bride,” he predicted, hoping she’d beat him to the climax.
A brief giggle escaped her until he flicked his finger against her swollen clit. Her eyes widened as she screamed, “I’m coming! Ohh! Yesss!”
With a long, drawn-out grunt, Marc came as the two climaxed together. He draped his body over her back, not wanting to break this intimate contact as he gasped for air. “Fucking intense, and totally not what I had planned for you tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, but not the first time.”
“You won’t hear any complaints from me, Sir. I’ve missed butt sex.”
While it had only been a couple of months, apparently he needed to step up his game. “Remind me not to neglect my wife’s needs again for the next, oh, seventy years or so. And I thank you for having the foresight to prepare yourself, despite all you’ve had on your plate.”
Marc stood, eased himself out of her, and discarded the condom. When he returned to the sofa where she’d maintained her position perfectly—whether because she was being a good submissive or was too exhausted to move, he wasn’t sure—he helped her to her feet.
Angelina melted against him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she caressed the curve of his ass. “My legs are as limp as overcooked pasta.”
Giving her time t
o regain her equilibrium, he began removing flowers and hairpins from her carefully coifed hair. He wanted that glorious mane loose and free. But it didn’t seem to budge much at all.
“How much hairspray did they use on you?”
“More than I wanted, but she insisted I needed it to keep everything in place throughout the day.”
Time to take care of that and some other things. He lifted his bride once again and carried her through the living room and over the threshold of the bedroom they would spend their first married night in. But he didn’t stop, instead going directly into the bathroom. “Soak or shower?”
“Shower, if you’re going to join me.”
“Perfect answer, pet.”
They spent ten minutes washing each other thoroughly and removing the hairspray from her do, until Angelina grasped his erection. “Permission to worship my husband’s cock, Sir?”
His penis jolted in her hand, giving her his body’s unequivocal response. He hadn’t expected to be ready again so soon. She waited for verbal permission, seeming to remember her training again. Even though they were mostly a role-playing D/s couple, she did enjoy being a service submissive, which also brought him a lot of pleasure.
“I’d love nothing more than to have my wife’s hot mouth on my cock right now.” Whoever said sex after marriage wasn’t nearly as exciting as before clearly wasn’t married to a woman like Angelina.
Rather than have her kneel on the tiles, he positioned her in front of the granite seat in the corner and indicated she should sit. “Suck my cock, wife.”
“Yes, Sir.” She smiled up at him and didn’t let her eyes stray from his as she took him deep into her hot mouth until he bumped the back of her throat.
Expecting her to pull away, she shocked him by taking the head of his cock into her throat and swallowing around him. The muscles contracted around him, squeezing him tighter than a fist.
“Gesù!”
Not wanting to hurt her, he grabbed onto her head to push her away, but she grunted, the vibration also felt to his core. Once again, she surprised him as she inched him farther down her throat. She’d always enjoyed giving him blow jobs but never like this. Had she been practicing deep throating?
Wedding Dreams Page 12
