Chapter 35
35
CARLEE
I kiss Weston deeply, pouring every emotion I have into him.
“I love you too. So fucking much,” he whispers.
“Ahem,” Hudson interrupts. “Just a few more things.”
I chuckle, still surprised that we’re getting married in the chapel on the hill. When I was a little girl, I told Mawmaw this was my dream location. Somehow, she made it happen, even though the church is closed for events from January through March. It wasn’t on my radar. I would have married Weston in her living room without a second thought.
“Carlee, your vows,” Hudson mumbles, wearing a kind smile.
“Right,” I say, holding Weston’s hands and peering up into his blues that swirl with love for me. “The first time our eyes met, I knew you were my other half. That night, we both felt the invisible string that pulled us together, and there was nothing either of us could do. I won’t go through the details because—let’s be honest—everyone in here probably read my journal.”
The crowd laughs, and so does Weston.
He hasn’t read it yet, but one day, I will read it to him. I want him to understand everything he does to me.
“Wes, you give me purpose, and I look forward to adventures with you. Your voice, your smile, and how you laugh bring me so much happiness. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve made my heart pitter-patter. Being with you is easy, and my greatest honor is being your friend and loving you. Thank you for making me laugh, for waiting for me, and for bringing so much love into my life. Best friends forever. No matter what,” I whisper.
Our mouths crash together, and Hudson doesn’t try to stop us this time.
“Exchange the rings when you come up for a breath,” he says.
Lexi hands me Weston’s ring, and I tremble as I slide it onto his finger. He kisses me, then slips a diamond wedding band onto mine. We laugh as our mouths frantically slide together, and I wait for someone to wake me from this dream.
“Do I even need to say it? Ah, I guess I should. You may now kiss your bride.” Hudson chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“Should’ve started with that,” I mutter as Weston dips me back.
“My wife,” he says against my mouth, claiming me.
“My husband,” I whisper, tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth.
There’s a fire in his eyes that I want to explore. Weston Calloway can burn me to ash.
Hudson grins wide. “I’m thrilled and oh-so honored to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Weston Calloway.”
The small room fills with applause as the music plays. I even catch a glimpse of my sister and mom crying. Mawmaw is too. Billie and Harper smile, and Lexi wipes away tears. Love like this makes me cry too.
Weston picks me up in his arms and carries me out of the church. Carefully, he walks down the wooden steps to where a sleek black limo waits for us.
He sets me down on my feet. I thought we were staying in Merryville.
Our friends and family meet us outside. We exchange thank yous through tears of happiness .
“Carlee,” Weston says, grabbing my hand. His mother and father greet us with smiles.
“Welcome to the family,” his dad says, introducing his wife, who’s dealing with a cute little boy who looks just like Weston when he was a kid.
“I’d have thought my son would’ve introduced us before the wedding, but alas,” his mom says. Both of his parents and their new spouses are beautiful.
“Thank you so much,” I tell them.
“Family vacation in the Bahamas,” his dad says. “Both of you are joining us this summer.”
“Can’t confirm that yet,” Weston admits with a laugh.
My mom pulls me into a tight hug, and then she does the same to Weston. “You kids should get going.”
“We should,” Weston confirms. Lexi and Easton offer congratulations and goodbyes.
The limo door opens, and we climb inside. When we’re alone, his mouth captures mine.
“Are we going somewhere?” I ask, confused.
“We’re going on our honeymoon,” Weston says as I admire him in that tailored suit.
“We’re going on a honeymoon?” I ask, semi-shocked.
“Of course we are. Also, you’re so fucking adorable to think I wouldn’t spoil my wife,” he says, creating just enough space between us to really study me. “I’m so fucking lucky to be with you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I whisper against his lips before I kiss them.
The private jet lifts into the air, and the cabin lights dim.
“You still won’t tell me where we’re going?”
“No,” he replies.
Once we’re at a safe cruising altitude, Weston stands and pulls me with him. I glance, amazed by the pure luxury surrounding us. He guides me to the back of the plane and pushes open a door.
I step inside, seeing a bed, television, and closet. “You have a room in your plane?”
“ We have a room in our plane,” he corrects.
I can’t suppress the smile creeping across my face as he steps closer. My back presses against the cool wall.
“Mrs. Weston Calloway,” he whispers.
My heart pounds like a fucking drum. My skin is flushed with a heat that has been building all day, all week, all year . Now, this man is my husband.
My husband stands before me, his eyes dark with desire. His plump lips part, as though he can already taste me.
With confidence, Weston reaches for the zipper of my dress, his fingers brushing against my bare back. I shiver; his touch drives me wild.
“This was my grandmother’s wedding dress,” I manage to say as he unzips me.
Weston steps back, fully taking me in. “You’re perfection, Carlee.”
Torturously, he pushes the dress down until it pools around my feet. Every inch of my skin is revealed. My tits spill out of the white lace bra, and the panties are more for decoration than anything. He groans, and the sound goes straight to my core, making my clit throb like it has a goddamn pulse.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice vibrating against my neck. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer until I can feel his hardness pressing against me through the fabric of his suit pants. “Gorgeous.”
He leans down, his lips trailing along the curve of my neck, shoulder, and collarbone. With precision, he reaches behind my back, unsnapping the bra. A sigh escapes me as his tongue flicks out, tracing a hot path down to my nipple. Every inch of my body aches for him while wetness pools between my legs, soaking through my panties.
“We’re married,” I whimper, barely above a whisper, but he hears me. Of course he fucking hears me.
“Ready to join the Mile-High Club, wifey?”
“Yes.” I smile as his strong hands slide down to my ass, gripping me as he drops to his knees.
After moving my dress out of the way, he levels his face with my pussy. Weston looks up at me, worshipping me as we lock eyes. He hooks his fingers into my panties and guides them down until they fall to the floor.
I’m fully exposed and in desperate need of my husband.
His mouth finds my heat, his tongue sliding through my slick folds like he’s fucking starving for me. I cry out and grip his shoulders while he licks me from slit to clit and back down again. When his tongue circles my sensitive nub, my legs shake like a fucking leaf.
“ My God ,” I moan as I roll my hips against his face.
“Yes, I am,” he replies, his tongue flicking over me again and again until I teeter on the edge.
My muscles tense and tighten, but he never gives it to me on the first try. Never.
He pulls back, blue eyes sparkling up at me. He licks those swollen, wet lips, then smirks.
“That look,” I say. “Damn.”
Weston stands and catches my mouth with his. “See how good you taste?”
Not wanting to waste any more time, I fumble with his belt and zipper. Weston helps, and with one swift movement, he releases the leather around his waist. The belt makes a pop sound, and I gasp .
“Okay, that was sexy.”
“Yeah?”
He knows it was.
Right now, I need to feel him buried deep inside me so much that I can barely stand it. Weston lifts me effortlessly onto the bed, pressing my back down on the mattress. With strong hands, he scoots my ass to the edge, taking his time devouring me.
Labored breaths release from me, and I’m so damn close, and I want it so fucking bad.
“Come for me, gorgeous.” He smiles against my pussy. “I know you want to.”
Heat pools in my belly as I rock my hips against his scruff. His tongue and mouth lick and suck every inch of me. I grab the comforter with white knuckles, my back arching off the bed as I release on his tongue.
He slides his pants down just enough to free his cock. It’s thick and heavy and perfect .
Weston spreads my legs with urgency, positioning himself between me and pressing against my entrance. His eyes are filled with love and lust, an intensity that makes butterflies swarm me.
“I love you,” he whispers. before pushing inside me, slow and steady.
He fills me completely until I can’t tell where I end and he begins. I moan, my nails digging into his back as he moves, his hips grinding against mine in a way that’s both tender and filthy.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” I admit. “Just you.”
“Only you,” he replies.
Weston is everything I’ve ever wanted. He’s every dirty fantasy.
And when I come, I scream his name. When my pussy clenches around him, I know I married the right man. No one will ever satisfy me emotionally, mentally, or physically like my best friend does.
He follows me over the edge, burying himself deep inside as he spills into me .
Warmth floods me as a wave of peace washes over me.
His hand gently strokes my hair, his touch soothing my soul.
We lie together, bodies entwined, hearts beating in sync, and I think this is heaven on earth.
As I gaze into his eyes, I can tell he feels it too.
“I’ll love you forever, Wes,” I whisper.
“Forever, gorgeous.”
“Paris?” I gasp when I see the Eiffel Tower.
“Lex said it was on your bucket list,” he explains.
I meet his eyes. Weston has many properties around the world. This is just one of them. “I thought you sold your French townhouse a decade ago. I remember reading an article about it.”
“You’re so fucking cute. I never get rid of the things that make me happy. You also shouldn’t believe everything you read about me. I considered listing it but never did,” Weston says, stealing a kiss as the car door opens for us.
Paparazzi wait outside on the stoop and on the sidewalk. Signs are propped up near the door, each congratulating us on our marriage.
Weston takes my hand, protecting me from the cameras, and leads me up the steps.
“You’re the people’s prince,” I tell him.
“That makes you the princess,” he replies with a wink.
It’s easy for me to forget his importance when we’re alone, but in public, it’s impossible to ignore.
Weston Calloway is the moment . He always has been.
When we step inside, our lips crash together.
“How long do we get to stay here?” I ask .
“As long as you want,” he says. “But Lexi’s baby announcement is in two weeks. We can’t miss that.”
“Two weeks,” I repeat.
He grabs my hand, guiding me through the house and giving me a tour. It’s surreal to be standing here. Weston bought it when he was attending university.
“You’re the first and last woman I’ve ever brought here. I can’t wait to share everything with you,” he says.
We climb the stairs and enter a beautiful bedroom with a wall of windows. He opens a patio door that leads to a balcony that overlooks the Eiffel Tower.
“Wow. The perfect view,” I whisper, admiring it.
“I agree,” he says, admiring me.
My face softens as I lean toward him, kissing him.
“Tell me about the magic of Merryville,” Weston says.
I snicker. “It’s an old wives’ tale about finding true love in Merryville and never leaving the town because of it.”
“Did you take me home to finalize your love spell?” Weston asks with a chuckle.
“Did it work?” I ask.
“Yes.” He chuckles against my lips, pulling me up into his arms.
He carries me inside and lays me gently on the bed.
“I’m madly, deeply, obsessively in love with you, Carlee Calloway . Damn, even your name is sexy.”
“Because it’s yours,” I say. “Just like me.”
His palms slide against my hips, waist, and breasts. A moan escapes me as his mouth trails down my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone.
I reach for his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. He pulls it off so quickly that it makes me laugh. My hands greedily explore the contours of his muscles, tracing the intricate designs of his tattoos before trailing my fingers down to the button of his pants. He groans as I press my palm against him.
Weston undresses me with careful urgency, and somehow, in the blink of an eye, we’re both naked. His sculpted body hovers above mine, and he kisses me with an intense passion. He starts on my lips, my breasts, and even sucks along the curve of my stomach. Every place his lips roam is his.
When he finally sinks into me, it’s slow and deliberate. His gaze locks on mine, and it steals my breath away. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. Each thrust rocks through me. With his hands in my hair, he whispers my name like a prayer. This man is intoxicating.
I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as pleasure builds within me. Weston continues to give me everything I need, stoking the fire of desire until I can’t hold on any longer.
With a cry, I scream out his name and the orgasm washes over me, spiraling into bliss.
He’s everything.
He leaves me breathless and dizzy, and I’m lost in the haze of him.
Quickly after, he follows me over the edge. His body shudders against mine, and he whispers the words I’ll never get tired of hearing.
“I love you, Carlee Calloway. My gorgeous wife.”