She wraps her arms around me and I kiss her. Now I can taste her and I know she can taste herself—a combination that does more than just turn me on. We move together as one, the intensity building with every thrust. It’s a feeling I wish would last forever. In fact, I wish I could stay buried inside of her—there is no place in this world I’d rather be.
Breaking our kiss, I hungrily nip at her jaw and press my mouth down her neck. Thrusting in and out, I give her everything I can and she willingly takes it. I’m trying to hold on, not wanting this feeling to end. But when her head falls back and she arches her body I tell her, “Come with me.”
Her muscles clench and her inner walls tighten around me as she whispers breathlessly, “I’m right here with you.”
And that is all I need to hear. Burying my face in her neck, I thrust a few more times and just as I still and start to explode, her body shudders with an intense orgasm that can only be matched by my own. “I love you, Dahlia!” I manage as we come together, sharing the most intimate connection two people can ever know. We’re truly one right now—one body, one soul. She’s not only mine, she’s mine forever.
Chapter 30
I Belong to You
River
October 31st
The white light creeps in through the window. We left the curtains open last night so we could stare out into the night, admiring the view, and feeling absolutely content—content knowing we will always be there for each other. I know today is the hardest day of the year for her and I want to do everything I can to guarantee she has a smile on her face.
I’ve been watching her sleep, waiting for her to wake up. I’m lying on my back and she’s draped across my chest with her cheek pressed against me and her golden strands pulled back just enough so I can see her beautiful face. With her next to me na**d in bed, I can’t stop myself from sliding my hands over her smooth skin.
She opens her eyes only the tiniest fraction and kisses my chest. She skims her fingertips down my stomach, stopping to trace lines over each muscle, stoking the heat between us that never dies.
“Good morning,” I tell her, kissing her head and smelling the sweet scent of her hair.
“Morning.” She nips my skin and sends me over the edge.
Rolling her over, I hover above her and bury my elbows into the pillow. My mouth trails down her neck and she giggles, “You’re tickling me.”
“Giggling and tickling aren’t what I’m going for,” I murmur back as I continue to lick and nip her skin.
She pulls my head to hers and when our lips meet I want to devour her, but when I brush my tongue against hers, she laughs. Ignoring the sound, I suck on her bottom lip because I know how much she likes it. When I do, she smirks and stifles any noise that would accompany it. I plop down beside her and rest my head on my elbow. Lifting her chin to look into her eyes I ask, “What are you doing?”
She flutters her eyes. “Why, whatever do you mean?” she answers in her cute fake Southern accent.
Grinning, I say, “I’m trying to make love to you but you seem to be finding it funny.”
She pouts her lips and drops her eyes.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, grabbing her hand and lacing my fingers in hers, not sure what I did.
She smiles and I swear I feel my heart stop from her beauty. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just waiting to see how long it takes you.”
“Well, if you’d let me get started, you’d be able to see.” Then raising an eyebrow I ask, “Wait, what exactly are you waiting to see how long it takes for?”
Now she’s laughing hysterically and I start to question my manhood. When she settles down she gives me an impish grin. “To say happy anniversary, silly. Not what you’re thinking!”
A bright smile spreads across my face. “I guess it’s an anniversary of sorts—six years ago today, you stared at me across a bar and look where I am now,” I say, trailing my fingers down her bare arm.
She tells me, “Well, I think it went more like this . . . six years ago today you stalked me and look where I am now—in the arms of Jack the Ripper.”
Grinning, I remember that first night we met at the USC Campus Bar and the conversation we had. Then I decide if I’m ever going to concede this is the time. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”
She keeps my hands laced in hers and moves closer to me. She kisses me and then says, “I love you—I thought I loved you from the first moment I saw you in the bar. And I knew I loved you five years later when I saw you in that conference room. But it wasn’t until you said that you weren’t just kissing me—you were whispering in my mouth—that I fell madly in love with you.”
“Did I say that? I’m pretty smooth.”
She nods and smirks. Fixing her gaze on me, she seems very serious all of a sudden. She holds my eyes captive. Clearing her throat she says, “You know today has always been the saddest day of the year for me and I was wondering if you would do something to help me change that?”
There’s a lead in that that I would normally pounce on, but I know she’s being serious, so of course I don’t. Instead, I kiss her hands. “You know I’d do anything for you, Dahlia. You don’t even have to ask. Just tell me and it’s done.”
She looks at me for the longest time before speaking. “Will you marry me today? Make this my happiest day of the year instead of my saddest day of the year?”
Like she really has to ask. I can’t even answer her right away because I’m so full of emotion I have to compose myself before saying, “Dahlia, I would have married you at the campus bar that night if you would have asked. You’re the only one I have ever really loved; the only one I will ever love. You, beautiful girl, are every breath I take. So of course I’ll marry you today.”
In all honesty there is nothing more I want to do. I’m not the kind of guy to cry but I swear I feel tears in my eyes when I look at the glow on her face. All I wanted to do was make her happy today and all she needs to be happy is for me to marry her—of course I can do that.
She closes her eyes for a moment and when she reopens them she says, “So Vegas it is.”
My heart thuds in my chest as I fall to my back and pull her on top of me. “No, I’m done with Vegas. We’re getting married nearby and I am taking care of it all.”
With her palms flat on my chest, she lifts herself up. She’s biting her lip and has a contemplative look on her face.
“What?”
She raises an eyebrow and a small giggle of disbelief escapes her mouth. “You’re going to take care of everything?”
I prop myself up on my elbows and meet her gaze. “That’s what I said.”
“Okay, then.” She grins at me and it’s decided—today is finally the day and it’s mine to plan.
Rolling on top of her so our bodies are perfectly aligned, I lean down to taste her skin. When she rocks her h*ps into mine I let out a low groan. She feels so good and my urge to be inside her becomes a frenzied need. I lock my lips around her earlobe and whisper, “You can see how long it takes me now, if you want.”
She combs her hands in my hair and tugs at my scalp in that way that drives me crazy. When she runs her nose up my neck so I can feel her warm breath against my skin, her lips find mine and she murmurs, “Yes, I want.”
***
It’s a little while later and I head downstairs to plan the day—our wedding day. I promise myself that this time we will be married by the end of the day. The wedding may not be traditional in every sense of the word, but I want to make sure we hit the most important parts—the ceremony and of course an unbelievable wedding night. With that in mind, I quickly call my sister and tell her about the wedding. She says she’ll be right over but I know if I want something done a certain way I have to stress it over and over, so I repeat myself, “Bell, remember these two words—sunset and simple.” But I know she’s not even listening as she hangs up the phone.
I’m surprised when she gets here and has already secured the location. And all of her ideas are perfect—except one. As she leaves, I beg her to skip the monkey suit, but she only rolls her eyes and says, “Be at Grandpa’s store at noon. Xander will meet you there.”
As she’s leaving, she yells over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to tell Dahlia to meet me at Avery’s at one!” I actually haven’t been to Grandpa’s store since his death. About a year before he died, he had asked all three of us if we were interested in taking over the store, but we were young and that responsibility seemed too daunting so we all declined. Now someone else owns it.
Feeling good about Bell’s involvement I decide to search for my girl to reassure her that it’s all under control. She doesn’t have to worry about a thing. When I find her ending a call with Aerie, I tell her only a handful of minor wedding details. I want the location to be a surprise. When she looks at me skeptically, I feign offense and then promptly send her off to do whatever it is a woman has to do before getting married. I also have things to do myself. First on my list—write my vows; second—select the most perfect song to dance to; and finally—come up with a plan to make tonight unlike any other night.
***
My monkey suit shoes are in the closet and as I look at the laces I know I will be switching them out for my Adidas. Bell’s going to kill me, but those shiny shoes are just not for me. Dahlia’s still out and I’m making sure I have everything ready. I jump in the shower and start singing “You Make Loving Fun” because for some reason thinking about last night makes me think about that song. Everything about her amazes me and the simple fact that we can go out and have a great time together no matter what we do, just makes me appreciate her even more.
As I’m shaving, I’m humming and singing along. When I look up I see her in the mirror. She’s leaning up against the doorframe with the biggest smile on her face. Seeing her carefree and happy like that makes it hard for me to see straight. Twisting around to catch an even better glimpse, she’s already walking my way. I meet her in the middle because I can’t wait to get my arms around her and feel her body against mine. She slings her arms over my shoulders and I lace mine around her waist. When she runs her fingers through my wet hair, I groan and cup her backside. She rests her head in the crook of my neck and I pull her into me as close as I can and fight back the urge to devour her.
Even our bodies fit together. It’s perfection. We’re two people meant to be together.
As she nips at the skin on my neck, my resolve to wait to have her is beginning to wane. I had decided earlier that we should not have sex again before tonight. I’ve booked a room at the Beverly Wilshire and Bell is going to make sure it’s filled with everything to make the night special—flowers, champagne, my guitar, and “a few other things,” she said. I rolled my eyes at the “a few other things” comment, but thanked her anyway.
Her soft lips touch my shoulder and I breathe her in. She slides her fingers down my bare chest to my towel and I squeeze her tight to me. She tugs at the knot and unfastens it, letting it fall to the ground. When she purrs, “You didn’t wait for me to take a shower,” a raw heat starts to consume me.
I lean back and try to control the fire raging through my body. “That’s because I knew I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself if I did that.”
She walks me backward until I’m leaning against the counter. When she reaches down her fingers quickly wrap around me and it feels so good. Of course, I was already hard before she even touched me; I was hard the minute I saw her.
“Why would you have to restrain yourself?” she asks while stroking me.
Fighting the urge to rip her clothes off I manage to say through gritted teeth, “Because I thought we should wait until after we’re married to have sex.”
A deep throaty laugh escapes her lips as her thumb lightly circles my tip and I feel myself swell even more inside her hand. At this point there’s no going back.
“Okay, that’s sweet and I like traditions, but that tradition only applies if the two people have never had sex.”
I grip the counter with one hand and her with the other. She continues to stroke me and I throw my head back. “It’s not tradition,” I manage to say. “It’s one of my rules.”
She laughs again. “Okay, I don’t get it, but since I always love your rules, I’ll be happy to follow your lead.” Then she twists her palm over the head of my c**k in the way she knows I like. “So I can’t do this?”
My voice comes out low and strained as I answer, “No, I mean yes—you can do that.”
When she drops to her knees and wraps her mouth around me, she sucks so hard, I can no longer control myself. I close my eyes and just let go. Before I know it, I’m thrusting my hips, clutching her hair with my hands, deciding technically this isn’t sex.
***
For all the complaining I’ve done about my sister’s party planning in the past, I take it all back today. She really outdid herself. She managed to secure the ideal location compliments of pulling the “my grandfather was a major benefactor” card, she arranged limo transportation compliments of an old boyfriend, and she even had Garrett become ordained so that he could marry us.
Glancing out the window, I see dark clouds are rolling in and I’m hoping it doesn’t rain. Dahlia and I are riding together, but I want the location to be a surprise so I have her blindfolded. Getting it on took a little bit of coercing. Of course, she had some smart-ass comments to make about not knowing how kinky I was and then asking what I planned on doing to her once I got the blindfold on—I had all kinds of ideas of what I could do to her, but it was neither the time nor the place.
Breaking our kiss, I hungrily nip at her jaw and press my mouth down her neck. Thrusting in and out, I give her everything I can and she willingly takes it. I’m trying to hold on, not wanting this feeling to end. But when her head falls back and she arches her body I tell her, “Come with me.”
Her muscles clench and her inner walls tighten around me as she whispers breathlessly, “I’m right here with you.”
And that is all I need to hear. Burying my face in her neck, I thrust a few more times and just as I still and start to explode, her body shudders with an intense orgasm that can only be matched by my own. “I love you, Dahlia!” I manage as we come together, sharing the most intimate connection two people can ever know. We’re truly one right now—one body, one soul. She’s not only mine, she’s mine forever.
Chapter 30
I Belong to You
River
October 31st
The white light creeps in through the window. We left the curtains open last night so we could stare out into the night, admiring the view, and feeling absolutely content—content knowing we will always be there for each other. I know today is the hardest day of the year for her and I want to do everything I can to guarantee she has a smile on her face.
I’ve been watching her sleep, waiting for her to wake up. I’m lying on my back and she’s draped across my chest with her cheek pressed against me and her golden strands pulled back just enough so I can see her beautiful face. With her next to me na**d in bed, I can’t stop myself from sliding my hands over her smooth skin.
She opens her eyes only the tiniest fraction and kisses my chest. She skims her fingertips down my stomach, stopping to trace lines over each muscle, stoking the heat between us that never dies.
“Good morning,” I tell her, kissing her head and smelling the sweet scent of her hair.
“Morning.” She nips my skin and sends me over the edge.
Rolling her over, I hover above her and bury my elbows into the pillow. My mouth trails down her neck and she giggles, “You’re tickling me.”
“Giggling and tickling aren’t what I’m going for,” I murmur back as I continue to lick and nip her skin.
She pulls my head to hers and when our lips meet I want to devour her, but when I brush my tongue against hers, she laughs. Ignoring the sound, I suck on her bottom lip because I know how much she likes it. When I do, she smirks and stifles any noise that would accompany it. I plop down beside her and rest my head on my elbow. Lifting her chin to look into her eyes I ask, “What are you doing?”
She flutters her eyes. “Why, whatever do you mean?” she answers in her cute fake Southern accent.
Grinning, I say, “I’m trying to make love to you but you seem to be finding it funny.”
She pouts her lips and drops her eyes.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, grabbing her hand and lacing my fingers in hers, not sure what I did.
She smiles and I swear I feel my heart stop from her beauty. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just waiting to see how long it takes you.”
“Well, if you’d let me get started, you’d be able to see.” Then raising an eyebrow I ask, “Wait, what exactly are you waiting to see how long it takes for?”
Now she’s laughing hysterically and I start to question my manhood. When she settles down she gives me an impish grin. “To say happy anniversary, silly. Not what you’re thinking!”
A bright smile spreads across my face. “I guess it’s an anniversary of sorts—six years ago today, you stared at me across a bar and look where I am now,” I say, trailing my fingers down her bare arm.
She tells me, “Well, I think it went more like this . . . six years ago today you stalked me and look where I am now—in the arms of Jack the Ripper.”
Grinning, I remember that first night we met at the USC Campus Bar and the conversation we had. Then I decide if I’m ever going to concede this is the time. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”
She keeps my hands laced in hers and moves closer to me. She kisses me and then says, “I love you—I thought I loved you from the first moment I saw you in the bar. And I knew I loved you five years later when I saw you in that conference room. But it wasn’t until you said that you weren’t just kissing me—you were whispering in my mouth—that I fell madly in love with you.”
“Did I say that? I’m pretty smooth.”
She nods and smirks. Fixing her gaze on me, she seems very serious all of a sudden. She holds my eyes captive. Clearing her throat she says, “You know today has always been the saddest day of the year for me and I was wondering if you would do something to help me change that?”
There’s a lead in that that I would normally pounce on, but I know she’s being serious, so of course I don’t. Instead, I kiss her hands. “You know I’d do anything for you, Dahlia. You don’t even have to ask. Just tell me and it’s done.”
She looks at me for the longest time before speaking. “Will you marry me today? Make this my happiest day of the year instead of my saddest day of the year?”
Like she really has to ask. I can’t even answer her right away because I’m so full of emotion I have to compose myself before saying, “Dahlia, I would have married you at the campus bar that night if you would have asked. You’re the only one I have ever really loved; the only one I will ever love. You, beautiful girl, are every breath I take. So of course I’ll marry you today.”
In all honesty there is nothing more I want to do. I’m not the kind of guy to cry but I swear I feel tears in my eyes when I look at the glow on her face. All I wanted to do was make her happy today and all she needs to be happy is for me to marry her—of course I can do that.
She closes her eyes for a moment and when she reopens them she says, “So Vegas it is.”
My heart thuds in my chest as I fall to my back and pull her on top of me. “No, I’m done with Vegas. We’re getting married nearby and I am taking care of it all.”
With her palms flat on my chest, she lifts herself up. She’s biting her lip and has a contemplative look on her face.
“What?”
She raises an eyebrow and a small giggle of disbelief escapes her mouth. “You’re going to take care of everything?”
I prop myself up on my elbows and meet her gaze. “That’s what I said.”
“Okay, then.” She grins at me and it’s decided—today is finally the day and it’s mine to plan.
Rolling on top of her so our bodies are perfectly aligned, I lean down to taste her skin. When she rocks her h*ps into mine I let out a low groan. She feels so good and my urge to be inside her becomes a frenzied need. I lock my lips around her earlobe and whisper, “You can see how long it takes me now, if you want.”
She combs her hands in my hair and tugs at my scalp in that way that drives me crazy. When she runs her nose up my neck so I can feel her warm breath against my skin, her lips find mine and she murmurs, “Yes, I want.”
***
It’s a little while later and I head downstairs to plan the day—our wedding day. I promise myself that this time we will be married by the end of the day. The wedding may not be traditional in every sense of the word, but I want to make sure we hit the most important parts—the ceremony and of course an unbelievable wedding night. With that in mind, I quickly call my sister and tell her about the wedding. She says she’ll be right over but I know if I want something done a certain way I have to stress it over and over, so I repeat myself, “Bell, remember these two words—sunset and simple.” But I know she’s not even listening as she hangs up the phone.
I’m surprised when she gets here and has already secured the location. And all of her ideas are perfect—except one. As she leaves, I beg her to skip the monkey suit, but she only rolls her eyes and says, “Be at Grandpa’s store at noon. Xander will meet you there.”
As she’s leaving, she yells over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to tell Dahlia to meet me at Avery’s at one!” I actually haven’t been to Grandpa’s store since his death. About a year before he died, he had asked all three of us if we were interested in taking over the store, but we were young and that responsibility seemed too daunting so we all declined. Now someone else owns it.
Feeling good about Bell’s involvement I decide to search for my girl to reassure her that it’s all under control. She doesn’t have to worry about a thing. When I find her ending a call with Aerie, I tell her only a handful of minor wedding details. I want the location to be a surprise. When she looks at me skeptically, I feign offense and then promptly send her off to do whatever it is a woman has to do before getting married. I also have things to do myself. First on my list—write my vows; second—select the most perfect song to dance to; and finally—come up with a plan to make tonight unlike any other night.
***
My monkey suit shoes are in the closet and as I look at the laces I know I will be switching them out for my Adidas. Bell’s going to kill me, but those shiny shoes are just not for me. Dahlia’s still out and I’m making sure I have everything ready. I jump in the shower and start singing “You Make Loving Fun” because for some reason thinking about last night makes me think about that song. Everything about her amazes me and the simple fact that we can go out and have a great time together no matter what we do, just makes me appreciate her even more.
As I’m shaving, I’m humming and singing along. When I look up I see her in the mirror. She’s leaning up against the doorframe with the biggest smile on her face. Seeing her carefree and happy like that makes it hard for me to see straight. Twisting around to catch an even better glimpse, she’s already walking my way. I meet her in the middle because I can’t wait to get my arms around her and feel her body against mine. She slings her arms over my shoulders and I lace mine around her waist. When she runs her fingers through my wet hair, I groan and cup her backside. She rests her head in the crook of my neck and I pull her into me as close as I can and fight back the urge to devour her.
Even our bodies fit together. It’s perfection. We’re two people meant to be together.
As she nips at the skin on my neck, my resolve to wait to have her is beginning to wane. I had decided earlier that we should not have sex again before tonight. I’ve booked a room at the Beverly Wilshire and Bell is going to make sure it’s filled with everything to make the night special—flowers, champagne, my guitar, and “a few other things,” she said. I rolled my eyes at the “a few other things” comment, but thanked her anyway.
Her soft lips touch my shoulder and I breathe her in. She slides her fingers down my bare chest to my towel and I squeeze her tight to me. She tugs at the knot and unfastens it, letting it fall to the ground. When she purrs, “You didn’t wait for me to take a shower,” a raw heat starts to consume me.
I lean back and try to control the fire raging through my body. “That’s because I knew I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself if I did that.”
She walks me backward until I’m leaning against the counter. When she reaches down her fingers quickly wrap around me and it feels so good. Of course, I was already hard before she even touched me; I was hard the minute I saw her.
“Why would you have to restrain yourself?” she asks while stroking me.
Fighting the urge to rip her clothes off I manage to say through gritted teeth, “Because I thought we should wait until after we’re married to have sex.”
A deep throaty laugh escapes her lips as her thumb lightly circles my tip and I feel myself swell even more inside her hand. At this point there’s no going back.
“Okay, that’s sweet and I like traditions, but that tradition only applies if the two people have never had sex.”
I grip the counter with one hand and her with the other. She continues to stroke me and I throw my head back. “It’s not tradition,” I manage to say. “It’s one of my rules.”
She laughs again. “Okay, I don’t get it, but since I always love your rules, I’ll be happy to follow your lead.” Then she twists her palm over the head of my c**k in the way she knows I like. “So I can’t do this?”
My voice comes out low and strained as I answer, “No, I mean yes—you can do that.”
When she drops to her knees and wraps her mouth around me, she sucks so hard, I can no longer control myself. I close my eyes and just let go. Before I know it, I’m thrusting my hips, clutching her hair with my hands, deciding technically this isn’t sex.
***
For all the complaining I’ve done about my sister’s party planning in the past, I take it all back today. She really outdid herself. She managed to secure the ideal location compliments of pulling the “my grandfather was a major benefactor” card, she arranged limo transportation compliments of an old boyfriend, and she even had Garrett become ordained so that he could marry us.
Glancing out the window, I see dark clouds are rolling in and I’m hoping it doesn’t rain. Dahlia and I are riding together, but I want the location to be a surprise so I have her blindfolded. Getting it on took a little bit of coercing. Of course, she had some smart-ass comments to make about not knowing how kinky I was and then asking what I planned on doing to her once I got the blindfold on—I had all kinds of ideas of what I could do to her, but it was neither the time nor the place.
