by Jenny Lynn
We spent the evening socializing and receiving congratulations from person after person. I saw my parents chatting with Nancy Blackstone and was excited by the idea of our families coming together. Nicholas had set Tabitha up with one of his groomsmen, and I saw then flirting in the corner I could tell it was going well. As if in a dream, the evening sped by as we danced and laughed late into the night.
Back on the dance floor, as the party wound to a close, the singer was performing Make you Feel My Love by Adele. I stared into Nicholas’ eyes, my hands around his neck.
“Tonight was everything I could have hoped for,” I told him.
“One of those nights you wish would never end?” he asked as we softly swayed.
“No,” I admitted. “Because when it ends, I get to be alone with you. As your wife.”
“You know,” he whispered, leaning closer with his mouth beside my ear. “It’s our wedding. We could leave whenever we want.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “We could?”
Without another word Nicholas took me by the hand and we wove through the crowd towards the doors. I gave one last glance back, then laughed as we ran together as husband and wife out onto the street. There was a stretch limousine idling by the curb. The door was opened as we rushed down the stairs and we slipped inside.
“Take us home,” Nicholas told the driver. Then, he pulled me against him. His hands were in my hair, trailing down my neck and skimming my curves over the dress. “You’re mine,” he said, his lips pressed against my neck, nipping the soft sensitive skin.
“I’m yours,” I said, knowing how true it was. We pulled up outside our building and again the door was opened for us. Nicholas scooped me up into his arms as we stepped out of the car.
“Allow me,” he said with a wink. I laughed and waved at the smiling doorman as he carried me over to the elevator, my feet in Prada shoes dangling from beneath the delicate fabric of my dress. We headed upstairs and once the elevator doors opened Nicholas walked straight for the master bedroom, placing me down on the bed. I blushed — he was looking at me with an intensity that I had never seen in his eyes before — as if he had waited for this moment for so long, and it was finally here.
Nicholas pulled his bow tie loose and shrugged out of his jacket. I sat up on the bed, reaching for him, and started to undo buttons at a frantic pace. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, the familiar angles and features of his body pressed against mine. He shoved his pants down and pulled me to my feet. I stepped forward, running my hands over his toned chest, admiring him as if it was the first time.
Nicholas held my head and kissed me with thinly veiled force, immense need behind his actions, a fire burning inside him threatening to consume. I gasped as he turned me around, he started to unfasten each pearl button down my back, trailing his lips and tongue over the exposed skin, inch-after-tortuous-inch, until he had freed me from my gown. I stood there in my white lace underwear with pale-pink stitching at the edges. Agent Provocateur — I bought them with Tabitha in anticipation of my wedding night. His eyes traveled over me and I looked away, my cheeks flushing. This felt different, the start of something new. Now I was his wife. Now he was my husband.
Nicholas pulled me towards him, running his hands through my hair. I was overwhelmed. A tear rolled down my cheek. He leaned forward and kissed it away, then closed his mouth over mine. I leaned into him and he lifted me, placing me down on the bed. His lips traveled down my neck, moving towards my breasts, straining against the thin fabric. He ran his fingers over me, teasing my nipples into stiff peaks. When he closed his mouth over my breast through the fabric I moaned, arching my back, wanting his expert hands to make me feel the way only he could.
He kissed down my chest, over my stomach, then gently parted my legs. I bit my lip as Nicholas ran his fingers leisurely over the fabric of my underwear. I squirmed beneath him, needy and eager, until he mercifully pulled the lace down my legs, dropping it onto the floor. Sliding a finger up and down my opening, he teased me over and over again until I was pressing against him.
“So eager,” he said, amused.
“Always,” I said, biting my lip again.
“Well then, why deny you what you want?” He slid a finger into me, I gasped, then he added another. He slid in and out of me with ease as I writhed beneath him. I wanted more — this wasn’t enough. I wanted to feel Nicholas inside me.
“Please,” I gasped.
“I know.” I knew he did; I knew he wanted this as badly as I did. Nicholas shifted on the bed as he pulled down his boxers. He knelt between my legs, kissed my thighs, then slowly entered me. I threw my head back, lost in the feeling of his thick member entering me inch by inch. Claiming my body as his own as I stretched to accommodate him. I savored the sensation, the physical connection binding us together. When he was in deep, he angled my hips to go even deeper. I moaned, my mind swimming from the pleasure as well as the champagne I had consumed at the reception.
Nicholas tilted my chin until I was looking him in the eyes. “Stay with me, Breanne,” he told me. I nodded and kept my eyes locked on his. Over and over again, he plunged deep into me. I felt everything he had to give me, rubbing against a sensitive place inside me. Our bodies rocked together, moving in sync, and he leaned down to capture my lips between his, gliding his tongue against mine, exploring the warm moist confines of my mouth.
I gasped as he picked up the pace, moving his hand down and circling my bud with the pad of his thumb. He knew exactly how I liked to be touched, exactly how to set my body on fire. I kept my eyes trained on his, my hazel gazing into his pale blue, and he increased the speed of his hand as well as the thrusts of his hips. My mouth fell open — I was close, desperate for release. Everything within me was coiled tight.
I gasped as I came, keeping my eyes on Nicholas. He held onto my hips and thrust harder, connecting with me in deep plunges over and over again; his jaw becoming tense as he groaned. His orgasm met mine and we rocked together, lost in pleasure as it coursed through our bodies, our limbs wound together.
Nicholas collapsed against me, still inside, and he pulled me against him. I nuzzled into his neck, my face pressed against his shoulder, as I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I pressed my hand to his chest and felt his heart racing as fast as mine. I closed my eyes, admiring how synchronized we were in this moment. I felt the beating start to slow to a normal pace as my own breathing became more relaxed. His heartbeat is the last thing I remember before I fell asleep in his arms.
21
We were sitting on the jet, I was staring at the canopy of clouds out the window. I bounced my leg, restlessly. We were on our way to our honeymoon destination and in classic Nicholas fashion, he refused to tell me where we were going. He loved his surprises, and although I would never admit it, I loved them too. I stared over at him reading a magazine, the sun filtering in through the thick glass of the window. There was faint stubble along his strong jaw and his dark hair pushed back. Nicholas Blackstone. My husband. Mine. The fact made me giddy with glee; he was mine and I was his.
“I can feel you staring at me,” he said, looking up from his magazine for a moment to arch an eyebrow at me.
I blushed, an idea simmering in my subconscious that I couldn’t suppress. Lifting my heeled foot, I casually traced up his leg, leaning against him.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said.
“Hmm?” he asked, looking back down at his magazine but there was a smile on his lips now. “What about?”
“We’re married now. The start of a brand new adventure!”
“Life with you is always an adventure, Breanne. I have no doubt about that.”
“Do you remember the first time you took me on a trip in your private jet?” I asked.
He chuckled. “You were so nervous. It was endearing, really. Now look at you, a seasoned flier.”
“I was nervous, yes,” I admitted. I reached forward and played with the collar of his shirt, toying with the line
between fabric and supple skin. “But it was also… exciting. Being up here, just the two of us… alone.” I let my voice trail off, biting my lip.
“Almost alone, apart from the crew you mean?” The magazine was down now and he was looking at me, a curious expression on his face.
“There’s something about you, Nicholas, that makes me unafraid to try things I would never otherwise. You bring it out in me.”
“And what exactly am I bringing out in your right now, Breanne?” he leaned closer, whispering in my ear, his hand moving up my leg near the hem of my skirt. Inching, slowly inching. Driving me wild.
“I’m thinking we should join the mile high club,” I said, looking up at him through my lashes, my voice catching as he reached higher under my skirt. When my eyes met his, there was an intensity to his gaze that set my heart racing. Only Nicholas could coax this physical response from me with just a touch, just a look. He stood suddenly, I gasped as he took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I walked quickly after him, his steps determined, until we reached the washroom. He yanked open the door and pushed me inside, locking it behind us and pinning me against the wall between his arms.
“You drive me absolutely crazy,” he said. “In the best way.”
“Nicholas,” I started to say, but he grabbed my head and closed his mouth over mine, stopping me from saying anything else. He wound his fingers through my hair, his other hand slipping under my skirt. My hands were traveling over his chest and his arms, holding him against me in the small space. Nicholas looped his fingers through my underwear and yanked at them. I gasped as the thin fabric ripped, he tossed them aside and sank to his knees in front of me, hooking my leg over his shoulder.
I barely had time to react and his mouth was on me, his tongue exploring the soft skin between my legs, a finger sliding inside. I let my head fall back and moaned gently. He curved his finger, rubbing me from the inside, while he confidently moved his mouth. My hands were on the back of his head, clutching his hair. I felt needy and lost in the waves of pleasure he was sending through me. My skin was flushed, on fire and hypersensitive.
Nicholas stood and in one quick motion he undid his pants, his thick erection springing free. He picked me up, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist. He pushed himself inside me — I gasped, feeling opened and filled by him. Nicholas pushed in deeper and deeper until he was buried up to the base. I felt utterly possessed by him, my body claimed by him, ready for him. He looked at my face, into my eyes, and nipped my lip with his teeth. Then he started to thrust into me.
This wasn’t making love, this was screwing. This was frantic — driven by need and desire that tore through us both. Again and again he slammed deep into me. I was on edge, I had been since I suggested the idea, and now I was giving myself over to where my body wanted to go. I gasped, then I came, clenching around him as I bit into my hand to stop from screaming out loud. Nicholas delved into the softness of my body again and again, determined and rough thrusts that showed me how close to the edge he was, until he groaned and I felt his movements become jerky and uncoordinated. He let a breath out in a rush beside my ear, holding me close, and we were both still.
I brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, slightly damp with perspiration, and kissed him. He gently placed me back on my feet. I adjusted my clothing as he did the same. I noticed my destroyed underwear on the ground and quickly shoved them into the garbage. He raised his eyebrow at me in the devilish way he liked to do and laughed.
“It’s not funny, now I have no underwear for the rest of the flight,” I tried to sound angry but I was laughing too.
“Then I guess you won’t be wearing any,” he replied, running his hand over the smooth curve of my ass.
The feeling of his touch was enough to excite me again. I shook my head at him giggling and he opened the door, following me back to our seats. I felt elated and satisfied, like I had crossed something off of my bucket list. The urgency, trying to stay quiet. It had been such a rush. Nicholas pressed a call button for the stewardess and she emerged from the front. If she noticed our flushed and disheveled appearance she said nothing.
“I think we’d like some champagne,” he told her. He looked over at me and I nodded. She smiled and headed for the front to get us our drinks. When she returned and poured for us, Nicholas held his glass towards me and toasted me.
“To my new wife,” he said.
“To my new husband,” I answered with a smile. I took a sip. “Mmmm. This is perfect,” I told him.
“There’s more champagne when we land. In fact… this country is known for it.”
My eyes widened. “Are we headed to France?” I asked. I had always wanted to go, I thought it was one of the most beautiful and romantic places in the world. The food, the art, the wine and architecture.
“I thought you would love to honeymoon in Paris, then spend some time in the French countryside,” Nicholas told me, kissing me. I tasted champagne on his lips.
“I’m so excited,” I said, barely concealing my joy.
“We land soon,” he said as he checked his watch. “Then the next part of our adventure begins.”
“Let me guess, it’s a surprise,” I laughed.
“You’ve got it,” he winked.
I sank back in my seat. When we began our descent I looked out the window, the world below taking shape. I shifted restlessly in my seat, excited to rush out and experience everything Paris had to offer. We landed smoothly, coming to a stop on the tarmac, and headed down the steps into a waiting car. We drove into the heart of the city, weaving through the streets, stopping in front of a gorgeous hotel with a fountain spraying water in graceful arches.
“Let’s check in,” Nicholas said, glancing at his watch. “Then we can head out.”
He took my hand in his and we strolled towards the front desk. We were given our keys to the honeymoon suite. As the elevator counted the floors, I couldn’t wait to step into our room and take in the view. At the door, Nicholas paused.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said, grinning as he scooped me up. I gave a quick yelp of surprise, then wrapped my arms around his neck as he opened the door and carried me inside. He dipped his head down and kissed me softly, cradling me in his arms, then placed me down on my feet. A few minutes later there was a soft knock at the door, Nicholas opened it as our luggage was brought in then handed the man a tip.
“Ready to go?” Nicholas asked.
“Wherever it is, I’m ready,” I said.
Back downstairs, into a cab idling by the hotel, I found out where we were headed. “Can you take us to the Louvre?” Nicholas said. The man nodded and pulled out into the street.
“We’re going to the gallery?” I said, entwining my fingers with his.
“I thought we would walk through, admire the artwork, then visit the catacombs. Afterwards I have dinner reservations for us at one of Paris’ top restaurants.”
“That sounds perfect,” I told him. I loved that Nicholas had clearly spent a lot of time thinking about this trip and places to take me. Just one more way he showed me how much I meant to him.
I rested my head on his shoulder as we drove, looking up into his eyes. He glanced down at me with a warm smile, then gently ran his fingers through my hair. I realized that wherever in the world we were, whatever life threw at us, our love for each other would remain constant. I knew in that moment I had everything I would ever need, that the future would be full of love and laughter. An adventure we would continue to build together. I sighed, relaxing into Nicholas, and let my gaze drift to the window where the sights and sounds of Paris passed us by.
22
Nicholas was seated on a bench, taking a quick business call while I spun in front of a wall of mirrors. The sales lady was smiling, I bet she was going to get an incredible commission off of this little shopping spree. I had always wanted to go shopping in Paris, the fashion capital of the world. Nicholas was be
ing incredibly patient as I tried on outfit after outfit, looking over at me to arch an eyebrow and smile, nodding in approval. He had picked out a few well-tailored suits and dress shirts, while I lost myself trying on the most beautiful blouses and dresses I had ever seen. I gasped as I caught sight of the price tag on the skirt I was modeling.
“It looks beautiful on you,” Nicholas said once he noticed my hesitation. “Get it.”
I looked at my reflection again, the emerald green silk skirt flowing down my legs. I did love it. I was going to have to eventually get used to this lifestyle. After all, I was Breanne Blackstone now.
The skirt was added to the pile of clothes and shoes I had tried on. As I changed back into my clothes, Nicholas handed the saleswoman a card and asked for everything to be sent to the hotel.
“Wait here,” I told him. He gave me a puzzled look and I darted away, back into the menswear section. I approached the man behind the counter.
“Are they ready?” I asked.
He smiled, nodding at me conspiratorially. While Nicholas had been trying on his suits, I had been doing a bit of browsing of my own. The man handed me a black velvet box. I cracked it open and looked inside. There were classic platinum cufflinks which I had Nicholas’ initials engraved on. They caught the light, gleaming up at me, the subtle N.B. etched into the fine metal. I passed the man my credit card, hoping Nicholas would like them when I gave them to him later. As I slipped them into my bag and made my way back to where Nicholas was waiting I couldn’t help but smile. He wasn’t the only one capable of surprises. We left the boutique hand-in-hand and set out onto the streets of Paris.
“Where to now?” I asked.
“You can’t visit Paris and not see the Eiffel Tower,” Nicholas told me as we walked to the curb. He flagged down a taxi and we slipped inside.
The driver brought us to the popular destination. We stepped out among the crowds. I had seen this scene in movies and on postcards, but now, seeing it in person, it felt surreal — both familiar and new at the same time.
