Chapter Twenty-Seven All the Stars #2
“Well, I don’t have too much to say after all that!
These two are trying to cut in on my commission,” Pastor Fortnum says when Mrs. Y heads back to her seat.
Everyone laughs, and that undoes the wad of sticky tears in my throat.
I clutch Ingrid’s hand more tightly and listen to a short passage about love, commitment, and sacrifice, my heart agreeing with each reminder.
When he gets to the vows, I practically shout them.
“I, King Silverbow, do take thee, Ingrid Antol, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. No matter what I do or where I am—I just want to be with you through it all. I love you, Ingrid.”
Ingrid glows and grips both my hands as she replies, “I, Ingrid Antol, do take thee, King Silverbow, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. You are all I want, and all I need—just you, as you are. I love you back, King.”
“As a token and remembrance of the vows that you have made, you may place a ring upon each other’s fingers.”
Bryce passes me the rings in a velvet box, and I take Ingrid’s as she takes mine. They’re simple and thick, her band with diamond chips inside and mine with a braided strand running through it.
They slide on without a hitch, fitting perfectly, marking her so the world can see she’s mine—and I am hers.
“This ring is a symbol of all that is most precious and enduring, like the love you share. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Well, he doesn’t have to tell me twice. I swoop Ingrid into a dip that knocks her off her feet and kiss her with everything I have.
I kiss her, in fact, until Bryce and Kevin tap me on the shoulder and remind me that we have an audience.
And I have a game.
“Who wants cake and champagne?” Ingrid gasps, leaning weakly against me.
I hastily push her in front of me and lock my arms around her waist.
“I have a kilt malfunction,” I hiss.
Ingrid backs up against me, wriggling her delicious hips so that her ass cradles the erection I’m trying to turn off.
“You’re not helping,” I warn as we walk down the aisle to cheers and waves, Chip and Daisy trotting beside us.
“Maybe we can stop at home before the game?”
“You’re going to have to, Mrs. Silverbow. You have a suitcase to pack, because we’re going away for the weekend.”
“I’m married.”
I flash my rings at my reflection as I throw on one of my ever-increasing number of Lumberjacks shirts and jeans. In my suitcase, I put the bridal nightie I bought yesterday, along with the dress that only needed minor alterations.
Everything was simple; everything was perfect.
“And it was perfect because the only thing you needed to make it perfect was each other,” I remind myself.
Hubby: The dogs are coming with us. I packed their bags, and they’re in the truck.
I got special permission for them to come to the game tonight and sit with you, Bryce, Fia, Kev, Marina, and the Hilltop crowd in the VIP box.
Make sure you bring your suitcase because we’re leaving right from the arena.
Ingrid:
I stop and wonder if King’s phone will now read my name as Mate or Wife. I decide I like both titles.
Ingrid: Where are we going?
Hubby: Where you have no neighbors, no distractions, no inhibitions. You can be as loud as you want... and so can I.
Ingrid: That doesn’t answer the question, but I like the sound of that.
Hubby: Thank you, Mrs. Silverbow. I love you, and I’m suiting up for practice. Thanks for marrying a hockey player, even when he has to work on your wedding day.
Ingrid: I would marry you if you were a hockey player, a saxophone player, a shuffleboard player.
.. I married you, not what you do. And besides, it was the best wedding ever.
My cheeks hurt from smiling. I’m glad all of our friends could be with us—and I’m even happier none of them will be with us tonight.
We won again. Coach says I’m playing better than ever. I play with more efficiency, more grace, but I’m still brutal.
Words are nice, the win is nice, but I’m not really here for the cheers of the crowd anymore. I’m here for Ingrid’s smile and her quiet thumbs up, her squealing cheer that I can pick out over the rest of the fans.
“Honestly, I think we might have three members on their way to the All-Star game this year,” Coach says as Jorge and I finish a victory lap.
“Sounds good,” I smile. But not as good as being Ingrid’s All-Star. That’s all the prize I need.
“Where are you taking us?”
“Ian Fenclan rents hunting lodges—but think swanky rich people lodges, with fireplaces and hot tubs. No one else for miles around. Views of the mountain and the forest... I mean, honestly, most people who can afford to go hunting on his private lands are wealthy, but they like to pretend they can rough it, too. It’s a good honeymoon spot, I promise. ”
“I trust you.” I squeeze King’s leg and lean against him. “I haven’t said that about anyone in so long. I do trust you. All the way, with all my heart. I know it’s not the time to talk about it, maybe, but if you want to take that trial with the Sharks, I’ll come with you. I’ll—”
“I don’t want it. I want... I want to stay here in town and play on the team until this body quits being able to deal with the punishment.
I’m an Orc, so that should be in my forties.
But I’m an Orc with a bum knee, so maybe in my thirties.
When I’m done with that... Well, no, before I’m done with that, I think I’d like to start a hockey program at the high school.
We could let them use our rink. I think I could help coach, and maybe start up a pee-wee league.
If I can’t find jobs that I love in the hockey field—”
“You will. You could probably get some sort of assistant coaching position now. Listen, I trust you. Not just with my heart, but with our future. I’m not worried about what kind of work you’ll do, as long as it makes you happy.
” I look up at him as the truck winds up a tree-lined road and the spitting snow starts to fall harder.
“I have news for you, King Silverbow. Everything you do makes you happy now, because your heart is in it, and it helps people. People love you. I love you. And this... Wow. This is the most beautiful honeymoon spot. The most beautiful wedding night.”
King parks and hurries to the side, throwing open my door and scooping me out of the truck and into his arms. “That’s because you’re the most beautiful bride.”
“There’s a fireplace. In the bedroom!”
“And I have knees that not only work, but they can dish out whatever you can take,” I say, trapping my bride against the wall. I steal her hands, then her lips, holding her still as I pin her and let her feel how hard I’ve grown in just a few minutes since we’ve arrived and settled the dogs in.
Ingrid squirms away with a reluctant moan. “I have to change. Are you hungry?”
“Oh, yes. But only for a certain piece of you.”
“Then you’ll really like this outfit.”
Tease. Ingrid shoves me out of the bedroom and shuts the door.
Inside, I can hear her humming as she changes.
I meander to the kitchen, blood racing as I think about her, about tasting her, about being on top of her for the first time.
I’ve been under, behind, and I’ve been her oh-so-willing chair, but now.
.. I hurriedly fill the electric kettle and put it on. “Did you pack your tea, babe?”
“Yes. At this point, my blood content is 10% knotting tea and 1% champagne. I’m sure you’ll approve.”
I turn and have to clutch the wall for support.
Ingrid and I haven’t had a chance to dress up for each other, not really.
Right now, she’s in something white and filmy, with corset cups that push her breasts to heaven and a skirt that barely covers her thighs.
When she pauses, leaning seductively in the doorway of the bedroom, one leg goes up and shows off her round ass and the fact that there are no panties included in this ensemble.
“Making tea?” she asks.
“Uhhh. No.” I click the kettle off and rush forward. “I plan on having bridal mead.”
“Oh, is that some Orc custom I haven’t heard of?” Ingrid asks.
“Yes. You take one bride.” I growl and spring, making Ingrid squeak as I swoop down upon her. “And you turn her honey into liquid form by vigorous stirring. Tasting often.”
“Oh, God...” Ingrid whimpers as my fingers slide between her soft outer lips and sink easily into her pink heat, stirring her dripping juices in a circle as I work her open.
I don’t care if there’s a bed ten feet away. I drop to my knees without complaint, her back against the doorjamb, and my hands locked around her thighs. My shoulders become the perfect saddle for her upper legs, and I bury my face in my bride’s pussy.
“Mmm. Now, this ... This is the best bridal mead in the world. Rich and fruity and sweet. Sticky like honey and flowing like wine,” I praise between licks, my tusks dragging across her folds to make her shiver.
Ingrid leans back and cups her breasts, pinching and playing with her hard nipples as I attack her rapidly swelling, stiffening clit.
My fingers dig into her soft, padded thighs, and I love the way her fluffy softness ripples out between my fingers.
“Ingrid is a banquet. Sumptuous. My feast.”
“King. H-honey...”
“Mate.” I suck her greedily into my mouth, marveling at how good she tastes, loving that her juices literally turn from rivulets to rapids, enough for my hungry mouth to swallow. I plunder her insides, tongue working in tandem with lips, trying to turn her into a screaming fountain.