Chapter 32
This was Hank’s first time at Delmonico’s, and he couldn’t wait to leave.
The dark wood-paneled walls of the curious, triangular-shaped space oozed sophistication.
The steak had been excellent, the baked Alaska intriguing, and the service superbly snooty.
But all he wanted was to be alone with his wife.
He smiled. His wife. That gorgeous woman spinning around the room, charming everyone in sight, was all his.
He was stuck at the table, his leg preventing both dancing and mingling, but this evening was never about him.
This was her night to shine. He couldn’t begrudge her, even if he was antsy to leave.
For their wedding night, they reserved the same room at the Waldorf where he’d stayed as “Albert Jones” on her birthday.
Their honeymoon in Europe, courtesy of Aunt Alva, was postponed until he recovered from his broken leg.
Tomorrow, they were headed back to his place, but tonight would be a night to remember.
Some cousin twirled Rory around as her current dance partner. All Hank could do was admire from a distance.
“You look lonely over here, Hank. I’ve come to cheer you up.”
Ma.
Hank smiled.
“Have a seat. Join me. I’m so glad you and Kate were able to come out for the wedding.
” Ma was dressed in her finest, complete with a bustle, which was about a decade out of fashion.
Nonetheless, she was a good-looking woman for her age and had no lack of interest from the older gentlemen in attendance, not that she paid them any mind.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Never thought you’d marry a swell, but I’m happy for you. You two are the cutest little lovebirds I’ve ever seen.”
“Where’s Kate?”
Ma waved her hand dismissively. “She’s over there somewhere talking to a young woman named Evelyn about suffrage. I’d like to have the right to vote as much as the next woman, but do they have to talk politics at a wedding?”
Hank laughed. Little did Ma know that Evelyn was a force of nature who did as she pleased, much like Rory herself. “There are only so many comments one can make about how lovely the ceremony was. If it makes them happy, they are welcome to it.”
Ma accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “It was a lovely ceremony. And mercifully short. Was that on purpose?”
“Yes. I may be on the mend, but I can only stand for so long on those crutches.” He was rather proud of himself for making it through the whole thing without incident.
It helped that his beautiful bride completely distracted him.
She was breathtaking in her dress. It was a bit daring, but then so was Rory.
It had sheer sleeves, and sheer fabric dripped down to her ankles, while the satin skirt beneath only reached down to mid-calf.
It hugged her shape almost as much as the dress she wore for her birthday. He couldn’t wait to peel it off her.
“I see you can’t keep your eyes off her,” his mother observed.
“I can’t blame you. I’m not sure how I feel about that dress.
It’s a bit revealing for my taste, but she sure does wear it well.
” She took a sip of champagne. “Who is that couple over there? Is that your best man?” she asked, pointing at O’Donnell and Ann Prince.
“They look almost as in love as the two of you.”
“Yes, Bill is my best man, and I agree with you. I’m very happy for them.” He’d been watching, and they had danced every dance together so far.
The song finished, and Rory made her way over. “Mrs. Hawley, I’m so glad you’re keeping Hank company for me,” she said. “I think I’ve abandoned him long enough, don’t you?”
Ma smiled and winked. “Goodnight, Hank. I’ll see you tomorrow in Mineola.” She got up and walked in Kate’s direction.
“I think it’s time for us to leave for the Waldorf, don’t you?” Rory said with a conspiratorial smile.
“I do,” he said, standing up on his crutches. Together, they made a grand exit, nodding and waving at everyone as their guests cheered them on.
Her father’s car and driver took them up to the Waldorf, and they hurried up to their room.
Alone at last.
He took off his jacket and vest, removed his cufflinks, and sat down on the bed to remove his one shoe. Then he sat back and watched as Rory pulled pin after pin out of her hair, removing her veil so that she could join him.
Her back was to him, and he had a lovely view of her shapely posterior. She glanced over her shoulder flirtatiously.
“Don’t stop, princess. I was enjoying the view.”
She pulled out the last pin and flourished the lacey confection. “Shall I do the dance of the seven veils for you?” She fluttered her eyelashes and wound the veil around her.
“Come here, you minx. I had a different kind of dancing in mind.”
She sauntered over, letting the veil fall to the floor.
“Then unwrap me,” she said, leaning in and nipping at his ear.
He traced the bare expanse of her back down until he found buttons, and he slipped one after another through its hole, slowly, methodically, nuzzling her neck as he worked.
He could smell the faint hint of magnolias on her skin as he kissed and licked.
The smell of her was more intoxicating than the finest whiskey.
He was hard from the moment she straddled him.
The little sounds she made as he finished the last of the buttons only served to enflame him further.
When he was done, he pulled the dress over her head in one swift movement, leaving her in her corset, bloomers, and stockings.
“No chemise?” he asked, palming her perfect, bare breasts.
“No chemise,” she said, arching her back as he lowered his lips to worship her breasts, taking time to fully explore each one. When her breathing grew ragged, he paused and unhooked her stockings from her garters. Then he untied her corset.
“Take it off,” he ordered, and she stood up and removed her corset and bloomers so that she was naked except for her stockings. When she started to roll them down, he said, “Stop. Keep them.”
Smiling, she returned to the bed, straddling him once again. “My turn. You’re wearing too many clothes.”
She unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants, then his union suit, following fingers with lips. After kissing her way down his chest, she licked the tip of his cock as it sprang free, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Christ, Rory. You’re driving me wild.”
With a sly grin, she crawled backward and pulled off his pants and sock and then his union suit, peeling it over the cast.
Straddling him once again, she said, “Hank, I need you.” His cock jumped at her words.
Reaching between her folds, he found her soaking wet.
She rocked against his hand as he made her dance—slowly at first and then quicker.
He needed to see her pleasure. It was everything to him at that moment.
She was everything—the love of his life, the siren of his dreams. Nothing compared to the sight of her trembling at his touch, utterly at his mercy.
She writhed and moaned, gyrating against him as he teased and tormented her sensitive bud, driving her higher and higher until she was begging for him.
“Give me more.” Oh, God. Her face as she said those words. Enflamed lips parted, eyes filled with fire. She whimpered as he slid in one finger and then the other, curling them to touch the spot that he knew drove her mad. She was almost there. Just a little bit more and…
She cried out, shaking and quivering, as he felt the pulsation of her release on his fingers. “I want you inside me.”
His cock wanted inside of her too, but he forced himself to pause.
“Before we start, do you want me to pull out or stay when I come?”
“Stay. Please,” she said with a sweet smile.
“With pleasure,” he said, laying back. “I’m all yours, princess.”
She climbed on top of him and took his cock in hand, coating him in her juices before sliding down onto him. As she took him in, his eyes rolled back in his head. She felt so fucking good. His wife. His partner forever. “I love you, Rory,” he groaned.
“I love you too, Hank,” she said as she began to move.
Once again, he felt the electric connection between the two of them.
Every movement she made shot through every one of his extremities, and he could feel her body responding to him.
In that moment, he lost track of where his body ended and hers began.
They were one body, one soul, moving together, taking each other to greater and greater heights.
They flew through the heavens, soaring above the clouds and up to the stars.
A white heat consumed him as he felt the spasms of her fruition, and he exploded like a shooting star, falling through the sky.
She slid to his side and curled against him. “I love you,” she whispered against his chest.
“I love you too,” he whispered back.
As he lay beside her, his whole life came into focus, the risks he’d taken, the path he’d chosen.
There was no need to run from it anymore.
She loved him. He didn’t need danger to fill the empty place in his heart.
He didn’t need to flee love because of the dangers he’d chosen.
He could simply love and be loved for who he was. He was home at last.