by Lucian Bane
“I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” somebody said behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
When Lucian opened the door to her room, the white rose paradise wowed all his senses. He hoped somebody took pictures of it, because he was about to ruin it. No, not ruin, relish. Lucian realized another dilemma as he shut the door with a foot. Did he want to just kiss his bride and go back downstairs?
He couldn’t make any promises.
He stood next to the rose adorned bed, and pressed his face into Tara’s, still buried in his neck. He laid her carefully on the bed and straightened with a smile at how she covered her face with both hands.
“Are you ready for me to kiss the bride?”
“Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed.”
Lucian sat at the edge of the bed and smiled. He suddenly remembered his special honeymoon suite surprise to be shared much later, after much sex. But maybe now was a better time. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the giant, celebratory joint he’d rolled from Gramps stash he’d found. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, pulling out the lighter and firing it up. He puffed on the cigar sized joint until smoke bloomed before him.
That got her attention. She shot up in the bed, hands down, staring at what the fuck.
“Tee-hee-he,” Lucian said, handing her the joint.
“What—are you doing?”
He shoved the joint a bit closer. “Celebrating,” he quipped, holding the smoke in his lungs.
“But it’s illegal! Where did you even get this?” She took it and held it sideways, reading the words he’d written along the side. “I love Mrs. Bane.” She gave a light sob and aimed a tear filled gaze on him.
Lucian released his smoke on a laugh, followed by coughing. “You’re crying? It was supposed to cheer you up—make you laugh.”
“It’s just…so sweet.” Tears fell and she took several huge puffs from it, smoke billowing around her head.
“You’re supposed to hold it in,” Lucian instructed. “Inhale the smoke and hold your breath so it can get in your brain and fuck shit up, make you dazed, hungry, and all kinds of creative. I was thinking we could mix alcohol with it and see what sort of fun stuff might happen.”
She finally laughed and he grinned at the joyous noise. “Oh my God! Where did you get this again?” She took another hit off the joint, doing it right this time and holding it in her lungs. She widened her eyes, cheeks puffed out all huge, handing it back to him. So fucking priceless.
“I found it in Gramma’s room. Must’ve been Grampa’s stash. Figured we’d smoke one in memory of him.” Lucian took another hit off of it just as Tara released her smoke in a loud, lung shredding cough.
“Hooooly shit!” she finally managed. She fanned her face and shook her head. “That…was potent. I’m not a smoker.”
Lucian looked around and spotted the champagne. He quickly fetched it and poured them each a glass full. He really needed to file a few of her edges smooth.
He brought the two glasses over and Tara’s smile grew enormous as she took it. Until she read the inscription. “Mr. and Mrs. Lucian Bane,” she squealed, tears rolling again.
Lucian sat next to her, shaking his head and grinning.
“What?” she cried, defensive. “This is insane, all of this.” She looked around the room. “Me getting married finally to the most sexy, amazing man in the world?” She met his gaze, a look of total shock on her beautiful make-up smeared face. “This is a miracle, Lucian!”
Laughter snorted from his nose at that one. Miracle. He handed her the joint again. “You’re supposed to pass it back and forth till it’s gone.” Tara gulped down her champagne like Kool-Aid, sputtered a gasp, and took the joint.
Two glasses of champagne and the entire joint later, the edges were nice and smooth on his wife.
“Hey!” She shoved his shoulder, eying him with her best sexy, tipsy look. “What about my kiss?”
“You ready?”
She licked her lips slowly with a huge nod. “Very. Is it going to be a good one? I mean did you plan a special one?”
He grinned at her, taking her glass and setting it with his on the side table. “Maybe,” he tossed offhandedly.
“Mmmm.” She pulled her shoulders up to her ears. “I can’t wait.” She bit her lower lip, and Lucian wondered just how tipsy she was from two narrow fluted glasses of bubbly and a joint.
“You want it sitting, or standing?” he asked.
“I should be standing.” She flailed her arms and legs getting up and standing.
Lucian held her waist when she stood until she caught her bearings. “You look fucking beautiful, love,” he whispered. “I mean it, you take my breath away, do you know that?”
She looked up at him with a sincere gaze then nodded sweetly.
“You better fucking know.” The tender words accompanied the stroke of his fingers along her silky cheek. She only stared at him, eyes roaming his face. Lucian carefully took her blotchy, makeup ruined face in his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “My wife,” he whispered, lowering to place tender kisses along her forehead. Then he kissed each, tear-streaked eye. He did the same to each cheek then the tip of her red nose. He pulled up and stared at her. She stood with eyes closed and perfect lips parted. He glided a thumb over her lower lip, stilling the light tremble he saw there.
He slid his hand along her neck until he had full support of her head while stroking the column of her neck all the way to her jaw, tilting her head back as he did. When she was at the exact angle he wanted, he lowered his mouth to her parted lips. He paused just a moment at touch down, needing to feel her erratic hot breaths. He began to nip, softly and carefully at her lips, slowly undressing her desire like a heavenly wrapping.
Tara gave a tiny moan, her hands at his neck now, a slow raking hunger that he knew would command him. That’s how it worked. He dominated every fucking thing for her. For her pleasure and desire—for her needs. He stroked his fingers up and down the column of her neck while deepening the kiss, pushing her mouth open for his own needs and hunger. And just like him, she gave whatever he wanted and needed. It was like a firing of atoms in the creation of something. A forming of things entirely whole, new, and explosive.
“Make love to me,” she gasped in his mouth.
He bit at her lip. “What about…”
“They can wait.”
The decision was made when her kiss turned explosive and her tongue reached deep into his mouth, pushing his lips open for more.
She pulled away and began removing her veil. “Leave it,” Lucian said.
She gathered it to one side and turned. “Undo me.”
Lucian stared at the hundred satin buttons on her back. “Holy shit, love,” he whispered. “I’ll need about thirty minutes.”
“Oh God, right,” she said, remembering. “We’ll leave that on too.”
“It’s a deal.” Lucian began removing his clothes while Tara took off as much of hers as she could.
“Leave your panties,” he said. “I want to take those off.”
She bit her lip and smiled. “Okay.”
Finally down to bare skin, Lucian approached her where she lay on the bed, waiting. Standing next to the bed, he started at her feet, lifting the wedding dress as he went. The fabric wasn’t light, that’s for sure. When he encountered the garter he’d gotten, he paused, “I need a better view.” He climbed on the bed and knelt between her legs. “I’m leaving that on too,” he said, stroking her thigh around it. “I’m burning to know what color panties you have on.”
“Are you?”
He looked at her and nodded with a slight smile. “I am.”
“You like panties, I think.”
“On you, yes.”
“Look and see, Mr. Bane.”
He returned to gazing between her legs and pushing up her dress. When he encountered the apex of her thighs, he paused. “Fuck.” He stroked a finger over the precious tr
easure. “Sheer and barely pink.”
“You like that color?”
“Like your pussy,” he whispered. “I like it very much.”
She slowly opened her legs and pulled her knees back, letting him see more.
“Dear God,” he barely whispered, sliding the panties aside with a finger and holding it. “You’re fucking glistening.” He dipped his fingertip in that beckoning silk and spread it over her lips and clit.
“Oh God, yes. My clit is so hot.”
He looked up at her, his cock straining. “Right here?” He circled the bud with the tip of his finger and she closed her eyes.
“Yes, right there. Make it hotter. Put your cock in me and rub my clit.”
“Anything for you, Mrs. Bane.”
She gasped several times in answer while Lucian worked her panties off. Back between her legs, he commanded her, “Lift for it.”
She raised her hips off the bed and Lucian stroked his cock along her slit. “Make love to me,” she begged again.
Lucian looked at her. The sound in her tone held a different kind of need that called his mouth to hers. His body to hers. He held her hips and slid his cock in very slowly, enraptured with the sounds she gave him. Longing, hunger, immense satisfaction. And yet the need for more. More. So much more and from him, all from him.
Lucian leaned forward and lowered her to the bed. He kissed softly at her mouth while moving inside her. “Make love to you?”
“Yes.” She raked her fingers in his hair and kissed him with a hot need, her hips rolling in a slow beg. “Make love to me.”
He held her head between his hands and worked on feasting at her mouth while pulling his cock nearly all the way out then sliding in slow and deep until she arched with need and jerked her hips on his cock.
“What are you wanting baby,” he whispered against her lips.
“Make love to me,” she cried.
Lucian slid in deep and remained that way, moving his pelvis against her clit in a firm rotation. “Like this, baby?”
She grabbed his ass and pressed hard, writhing beneath him. “Like that, yes. Fffuck baby,” she mewled.
“I’m going to give you a wedding hickey while you come.” He ground himself in her several times more. “Would you like that?”
“Yes, I would.” Her words were hot on his mouth.
Lucian kissed at her neck, teasing and licking along the column. Finding the spot he’d mark, he began slowly picking up speed, hammering the head of his cock against her core and his pelvis against her clit.
“Now, baby,” he said, “come now.” He opened wide and sucked as much skin into his mouth as he could, hammering faster. Tara’s cries and moans became one as her nails drew blood at his neck. Lucian growled, not letting go of her neck, sucking with a delirious passion.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she panted. Even as she said it, her body locked up on his, commanding his own climax.
He raised his head and bared his teeth in a stifled roar, coming hard and long and perfectly. Tara screamed with his final thrusts. He had to hold her shoulders to keep from shoving her through the fucking headboard from the savage force.
Floating down from holy-fucking-honeymoon-heaven, he pressed his forehead to hers, their moans mingled while Tara mewled kisses all over his lips.
“My ass,” she suddenly quipped.
Lucian got off of her, worried. “Your ass?”
“Yes. Not sure what happened,” she gasped, her mouth opened in pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me,” Lucian said, pissed as he climbed off.
“I didn’t really… notice it much.”
“Shit.” He carefully helped her up and when she stood, Lucian lifted the dress and examined her butt with soft strokes of his fingers. “I don’t see anything.”
“It’s a little higher. Above my butt.”
Lucian spotted a strawberry sized cluster of specks of blood and panicked. “Holy fuck.” He felt inside her dress and winced at finding something sharp. “Dear God! You were fucking stabbed repeatedly with a straight pin!”
“Ouuuuuch,” she gasped. “It feels like it.”
“How did you not feel that?” Lucian demanded, furious.
“It’s hard to feel anything around your… hammering.”
“Wow,” Lucian removed the pin, shaking his head. “What a perfect gift for a honeymoon, maybe I can manage to get you to the emergency room tonight.”
“We’ll need a redo for sure.”
He eyed her and she grinned. “Lots of redos.”
“Yes. No wedding dresses with death traps.”
Tara angled her head and gasped. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Steve is singing up a storm!” Tara lifted her dress and began dancing with her elbows out like a country girl. “Ready to dance?”
“Maybe,” Lucian laughed. “You?”
She continued to trot like a duck in a wedding dress along the room in a circle.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Can I dress or would you prefer me go like this?”
She spun around with angry eyes. “Don’t even joke like that.”
He shook his head, gathering his clothes. “Possessive, are we?”
She danced her way over and flicked his cock. “That there is mine. And all that is attached to it.”
“You got that right baby.” He planted a loud dominant kiss on her lips then hurried to dress.
At the top of the stairs, Lucian held his arm out for her. “Ready to cut the rug?”
‘Hellllll yes!”
****
Lucian found Steve and gave him the signal. Leaning to Tara, he whispered. “I’ll have Steve put on a song for us.”
She clapped giddily and Lucian walked over and whispered to a sweaty, flush faced Steve, “It’s time. Can you still do it?”
“Ab-so-lutely.”
Steve disappeared and five minutes later, Lucian led Tara to the middle of the floor and everybody spread to the sidelines for their first dance.
The haunting melody that Steve had put on when he took Tara upstairs came on the stereo and Lucian pulled Tara into his embrace. He smiled down into her happy gaze and kissed the tip of her nose.
A minute into the song, the music screeched like somebody dragged a needle over the record. Lucian and Tara looked around and another song came on. A rug cutting one. Which Tara immediately began to do. Lucian watched her and nodded, impressed, then he felt the anticipated tap on his shoulder.
Turning, he found Steve in costume, wearing a red dress and heels, blond wig, red hat with hair net, and huge red lips. All fifties themed. Lucian and Steve proceeded to act out their routine of May I have this dance?
Lucian shook his head no, as he was a married man, dancing with his wife. Steve grinned ear to ear, like Lucian had said yes. He grabbed Lucian’s hand and yanked him around, forcing him to endure the one sided dance. He flung Lucian around like a rag doll and the audience roared in laughter when Steve slung him over his back then shoved him between his legs on the floor then pulled him back upright again. The entire time, Lucian fought to escape the crazy gorilla lady only to be dragged back to the dance floor by an arm or leg.
They had the crowd in stitches by the time they took their bow, exhausted. Tara lunged into Lucian’s arms in frenzied laughter, kissing him. Susan even came on the floor and eyed Steve up and down at which point Steve ran off the floor and out of the room with Susan chasing him. The crowd laughed some more, only Lucian was pretty sure it wasn’t part of the act.
“Baby that was amazing,” Tara giggled in his ear.
“You liked that?” He smiled, still winded. “Steve and I cooked it up.”
“When did you find time?”
“Late at night when I was supposedly sleeping on the couch.”
“Excuse me,” a voice boomed out suddenly. “Who has a new, black Chrysler van?”
Lucian’s stomach knotted as he looked around and headed to the dude near the entrance. “I think ours is black, why
?”
“Well, somebody in a giant truck just hit it and left. Think it was Luther,” he whispered. “But don’t worry, I called the police to report it. They’re out there now, looking around, wonderin’ who owns the van. They need to see some paperwork.”
Panic struck Lucian at envisioning the policeman with a high beamed flashlight, peeking inside the van brimming with every deviant sex toy known to man.
“I’ve got this,” Steve said, hurrying outside. “Don’t you worry buddy, I got this. Go back in and enjoy your reception.”
“I’ll help!” Susan said, running out after him.
Lucian shook his head with closed eyes. They were so getting busted. On their wedding fucking night of all things.
To Be Continued….
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Oh yeah, I forgot, I also write Paranormal Erotic Romance. You can check out my first series here:
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