by R. C. Martin
“You okay?” I ask softly, my fingers still at work.
“Yes,” she replies with a nod. “Don't stop.”
I smirk at her, as if that was ever going to happen.
I don't stop. Instead, I move faster—rubbing her clit in rhythmic circles, loving the sound of her erratic breaths in my ear. I can feel it as her insides begin to flutter and squeeze around me. She lifts her hips and arches her back as her orgasm overtakes her. I can't tear my eyes away from her face. I swear, she's never looked more beautiful.
My cock agrees. I can feel it as my head drips pre-cum onto her hip, and I know that now is it. I need to be inside of her, claiming her, branding her as mine—forever. I don't waste another minute, positioning myself between her legs. I grab hold of my cock and glide the head over her entrance and up to her clit, mixing her evident desire with mine. Somewhere in the back of my head, I know I should say something—but I can't for the life of me think of a single word. All I want is to get lost in her.
My love.
My Logan.
My wife.
I ease my way in and, instantly, I'm lost in euphoria. She cries out, digging her nails into the back of my biceps, and I know by the look on her face that this feels different than a moment ago. She's in pain. But I can't stop. I can't pull out. I have to bury myself as deep as I can go. She feels too good—so tight, so warm, so soft. Once I'm all the way in, I open my mouth to speak, but she stops me, holding both sides of my face before she tells me—
“I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you so much, too, babe,” I mutter, pulling out before gliding back in. She whimpers and it’s as if she’s grabbed hold of my balls. In an instant, I lose control. I barely pull out for the second time before pleasure zings up my spine. I thrust into her once more, my cock spilling my release. The groan that follows is the most ambiguous noise I've ever made. I couldn't hold back that cry of relief even if I wanted to. But right now, the after effect of my release pales in comparison to the realization that I lasted all of three seconds.
Three damn seconds!
“Fuck,” I mutter, rolling onto my back and away from Logan. We've been waiting for this moment for what feels like ages, and I couldn't even last long enough for her to feel anything other than pain. I sit up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed, unable to face the disappointment I'm sure is written all over her face. “Fuck. I'm sorry.”
I suck in a breath the first time I hear him say it. When he sits up and says it again, I sit up with him, pulling the sheet up over my chest. My Roman does not drop the f-bomb, and he teases me about it every time I do. I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing him throw the word around if he feels like talking dirty to me. Actually, that would be hell-a hot—but not if it sounds like that.
“Baby…” I reach out and trace my fingers down his spine, but he doesn’t turn around. Instead, he reaches up and rubs his hands up and down his face—something that he does when he’s particularly frustrated.
I know him well—better than I ever, in my wildest dreams, could’ve imagined knowing him—yet, I’ll be the first to admit, I cannot read his mind. Most of the time, I don’t have to. We’re always open and honest with each other; it’s part of the reason I fell in love with him in the first place.
I can imagine that he probably saw our first time going a little differently. Perhaps a little longer. But to be honest, that hurt more than I remembered it hurting when I lost my virginity. Roman may be a novice, but a ruler wouldn’t hold it against him. It’s been almost five years since I’ve had a cock inside of me and it was definitely smaller back then.
Pain aside, though, if it’s embarrassment he feels, he shouldn’t. The look on his face when he told me he loved me as he sunk himself into my core—the way his muscles tensed as his pleasure overwhelmed him—and the sound he made—my God, I’m wet just thinking about it.
But this right here—his back to me as he sits unresponsive to my touch—it knocks on the doors of a few emotions that I don’t really want to feel today, of all days.
“I thought we made a compromise, baby.”
“What?” he mutters, shaking his head to signal his confusion. He still refuses to look at me.
“I’ll stop saying fuck if you agree to occasional kissing. No tongue,” I speak softly with a smile, remembering how it all started between the two of us. I trace my fingers down his back once more. “If you’re allowed to say it—”
“Logan…” he murmurs, shaking his head.
I furrow my brow, worried and upset that less than two minutes ago, he was inside of me, and now he won’t even look at me. Embarrassed or not, he’s not the only vulnerable person in this bed. “Roman Holloway—I’m sitting here, completely naked, and you won’t even look at me. Me. Logan Holloway. If I hadn’t made you come so quickly, I’d think you were disappointed in what you’ve been waiting for.”
“What?” he scoffs, finally turning to look at me. He wears a scowl on his face, but it’s a relief just to see his gorgeous brown eyes trained on me at all. I return his stare as I let the sheet fall away from me. He sighs, seemingly defeated, and twists his body even more, so that he can reach to cradle my cheek in one of his big, warm hands. “Babe, you could never disappoint me. You’re beautiful—so incredibly beautiful. I just—I—dammit, I just—”
He shuts up when I crawl into his lap, straddling him. I fight a grin when my pussy aches simply from feeling the heat of his body beneath me. It amazes and thrills me how different it feels to be wrapped around him like this with no clothes on. I like it so much better. When his hands splay across my back, keeping me close, I know he feels the same way. I just have to get him out of his head.
“Roman Cornelius Holloway, I love you. You mean more to me than anyone. I used to think I gave you my heart, but I think the truth is that it always belonged to you. When I despised you, I still trusted you. When I couldn’t stand you, I was still drawn to you. And when I surrendered to you, it was like I had finally found my place—with you. You are my home. You are my heart. You are my love. You are my Roman. I promise to love and adore you. I promise to respect and honor you. I promise to cherish and never forsake you for the rest of my life. I cannot wait to call myself your wife, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until I breathe my last. Rome—I’m yours forever.”
When I finish reciting my vows, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “Babe—”
“It’s our wedding night, baby. I’d hoped that you wouldn’t be able to stop touching me—that we’d spend hours kissing and licking and—”
A deep groan rumbles from his chest before he cuts me off with a kiss, snaking his hand up my back until his fingers reach the base of my neck. He holds me close, his tongue invading my mouth as I press my knees against his sides tightly. His kisses me with a desperation that assures me that any lingering disappointment has been forgotten with the reminder that tonight is ours for the taking.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me, speaking between the kisses that he trails down my neck. He slides a hand up around my breast and my nipples harden as he squeezes me gently. “Won't happen again.”
“Mmm, Roman,” I whisper when I feel his cock harden beneath me. He pulls his lips away from me and looks into my eyes.
“Did I hurt you before?” he asks, his gaze drifting to my lips and then back up.
“I’ll get used to it,” I murmur, my eyes mimicking his as they travel down to his lips and then back up again.
“Do you want—"
“Make love to me, Rome,” I whisper as I grind against his erection. He groans once more, which sounds impossibly sexy, and I suddenly don't care how sore I am. “I want you. I love you. I need you.”
He requires no further encouragement. I’m pinned beneath him in seconds, his hands exploring my body as he showers me with kisses. I close my eyes, in love with the way he touches me—as if he’s
hungry and he’s afraid he'll never get enough. I feel the same longing for more even now.
When he eases his way into me again, I try my best to stifle my wince. He notices and kisses me gently, expressing an unspoken understanding. He pulls out of me slowly before he glides back in. Soon, I forget about the pain; soon, all I feel is full—full of his cock, full of his love; soon, every stroke is welcome.
My erratic breaths mingle with his ragged ones, neither of us able to pull our eyes away from the other. My hands roam over him, desperate to grab hold of him and never let him go. When he moans, his thrusts picking up speed, I know he's close. My heart races, anxious to see him succumb to the ecstasy of his climax. He jerks one final time and then stills as he comes, his roar vibrating against my chest.
My gorgeous man is breathtaking as he comes undone. My heart swells knowing that his orgasms belong to me, and me alone. I know, now more than ever, that waiting to share this with him on our wedding night—as his wife—wasn't just a decision we made together. It was his gift to me.
Best. Wedding gift. Ever.
“LOGAN, BABE, WE’RE LATE. The car is here. Everyone is waiting,” Roman calls out from the other side of the bathroom door.
I grin at my reflection when he rattles the handle, checking to see if I’ve yet to unlock it.
I haven’t.
“I’ll be out in a second, baby!”
“Well, hurry up. Daph is blowing up my phone.”
“Maybe I’d be ready if someone hadn’t decided we needed one more round in bed to close out the year,” I say loudly, putting in my second dangly, silver earring. Once it’s fastened and secure, I lift my eyebrows and wait for his response. I hear him clear his throat, but he doesn’t say a word. My grin grows wider as I suppress a giggle. “Yup, that’s what I thought,” I mutter under my breath.
I take one last look at my face under the bright light above the hotel mirror and decide that I’m satisfied with my handiwork. My green eyes look smoldering with the smoky eyeshadow effect I managed to pull off in half the time I usually require, and my lashes—coated in black mascara—make them look big and beautiful. I dusted on a hint of shimmering blush, just for fun, and my lips are coated in clear lipgloss.
Roman loves my lips. Always has. They need no color to draw his attention.
Though, something tells me he won’t be thinking too much about my lips tonight.
It’s our first New Years Eve as a married couple, and I can hardly wait to ring in the new year on the arm of the man I love more than life itself. I really didn’t care one way or the other if we found a big party to go to, but my in-laws made the decision fairly simple.
Tonight, Neal and Beth are taking Rome and me, along with Trevor and Daphne, to the White Rose Gala at the Denver Performing Arts Complex. The proceeds of the event are donated to charity, which explains why Beth was so insistent that we tag along. I couldn’t tell you how many committees and charity events she’s apart of in her local community. In any case, when they offered to buy us all tickets and put us up in a hotel for the night, Roman and I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. And even though Daphne’s relationship with her parents is still far from warm and fuzzy, it didn’t take much for us to convince her that she and Trevor should be there, too. Harvey and Grace were a huge help, offering to keep Care-Bear for the night.
As soon as it was confirmed that we would be spending our night at a gala, I started hunting for the perfect dress. I knew that I wanted something sexy, and I didn’t give two shits about the fact that it’s the middle of winter in Colorado. After a bit of online searching, I found exactly what I wanted. Tonight, I’ll most certainly be Roman’s eye candy.
The blue dress has a fairly modest front, the fabric hugging my C-cups as it clings to my chest and my thighs. My legs will definitely be on display tonight, as the fabric stops mere inches below my backside. Speaking of my back—the front of my dress is held in place by the halter top, which connects to a silver chain between my shoulder blades. The chain is attached to either side of my dress, securing the fabric around my breasts, as there is nothing else to hold it up. The dress is just about completely backless, the fabric of the skirt clinging to my body just below the small of my back. It’s tight, the seams cinched on both sides and straight down the middle, making my ass look fantastic.
I adorn my wrist with a simple silver bracelet, given to me by my parents ages ago, and slip my feet into my new stilettos. They are a glittery silver with rhinestones adhered to the back of the heels. They’re hot as hell, and they’ll make it easier to steal kisses from my man all night.
“Logan!” he calls, rapping his knuckles against the barrier that separates us. “Open the door. Now.”
“Relax. I’m coming!” I double check the pins in my hair one last time, ensuring that tonight’s curls will stay draped over my right shoulder, and then I grab my clutch and head for the door.
I shut the light out, knowing that if I leave it on, he’ll see my back in the reflection of the mirror. I’ve been keeping tonight’s attire a secret. I wanted to surprise him. All of this is for him. The only man’s attention I want is his. I know, in this dress, I can guarantee two things.
First—my husband will be touching me all night. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he will not let me out of his sight. Even with the two carat pink sapphire on my finger, he’ll insist on sending a message to anyone who looks our way that I am his.
Second—I’m sure that we’ll start this year off with a bang. Me, in this dress, in a room full of people, it’ll drive him wild. Later, when he takes me, he won’t be gentle or sweet. At least not the first time. My heart races with giddy anticipation just thinking about it.
I suck in a deep breath and blow it out quickly before I unlock the handle and open the door.
Holy shit, I think when she finally opens the door.
For a second, I’m too distracted by the sight of her to even remember that we’re late or that our family is waiting. She smiles as she takes a step toward me and my heart skips a beat. It isn’t until she takes another step in my direction that I realize—
“That’s a little short, babe.”
“We’ll only be outside for a couple minutes. I have my coat.”
I pinch my eyebrows together, my gaze traveling down her legs—legs that were wrapped around me an hour ago, squeezing me as her muscles tensed with her orgasm. My dick twitches at the memory and I shake the thought away. I’m sure as hell not worried about the temperature outside. Those legs are mine. I don’t want any other dicks getting hard at the sight of them. “You sure you don’t have another dress?”
“I’m sure,” she says, closing the distance between us. She presses a hand against my chest as she leans into me. Her heels make it easy for her to reach my lips and she presses a quick kiss against them before she offers me another smile. “You look very handsome,” she tells me.
The tailored, dark gray suit I’ve got on was a Christmas present from my girl. I know she was looking forward to seeing me in it, as it’s been a while since we’ve gone anywhere that called for such attire. My Logan likes to dress up, that’s for sure; now, dressing me up is something she enjoys as well. I don’t mind, especially since I know seeing me in a suit turns her on.
“Thank you, beaut—” I start to speak as I slide my arm around her back, but then I stop when my hand comes in contact with her bare skin. I spread my fingers against the warmth of her lower back, my eyes locked with hers as I feel my way up—searching for the fabric of her dress. I find none. “Logan?”
“Yes?” she murmurs, obviously fighting a grin.
“Turn around.”
She pulls her lip between her teeth before she does as I ask, revealing her completely backless dress. No—it can’t even be called that. It’s barely a scrap of fabric covering her ass.
I shake my head, raking my fingers through my hair. “You better hope we can see fireworks from our window, babe, ‘cause we’re not goin
g anywhere. Not anymore. Not with you in that—that—that—”
“Dress?” she says, looking at me from over her bare shoulder.
“Logan, that’s not a dress. I don’t know what that is, but it’s not a dress. A towel covers more than that!”
“Rome, it is a dress,” she insists, turning to face me once more. “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t like it?” She spreads her legs, popping out her hip as she presses a fist against her waist, and I’m suddenly sporting a hard-on.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” I mumble.
She relaxes her stance, a sweet smile pulling at her lips as she inches closer to me. “Good. I’m wearing it for you.”
I reach for her chin, shaking my head as my eyes lock with hers. “We walk into that party and every dick in the room is going to be looking at you.”
She rolls her eyes and steps away from me, turning to head toward the closet. “Baby, why can’t you just tell me I look pretty so we can go? I thought we were late.”
In two long strides, I’m at her back. She stops when I snake my arm around her waist and then relaxes against me. My little minx. She knew exactly how I’d feel about this dress. “You know I think you’re gorgeous,” I mutter, my lips brushing against her neck. “You look absolutely amazing—and I sure as hell won’t be the only one who notices.”
“Roman, I’m yours,” she whispers, arching her back, her ass pressing against my throbbing dick. “I’ve got the ring to prove it.”
I don’t even try to suppress my growl as I pull her tighter against me. “Have you seen yourself in this thing? Nobody is going to care about that ring.”
“Baby, I’ll be glued to your side all night. What more do you want? Should I get Trevor to give me a tramp stamp of your name to make it even more obvious in the future that I belong to you?”
