Chapter 9 #2
Some moments feel like years. Doing my first surgical incision, holding a dying patient’s hand, breaking the news to my mom about her illness–those moments stretched on and on into decades.
Waiting for my dream girl at the altar while Faux-Elvis performs an exaggerated version of “Blue Suede Shoes” took a lifetime. All the while, I’m wondering if she changed her mind. If she’ll want to marry Axel instead.
It’s not real, I scold myself. The ring is real. The paperwork is real, but they are the only things about this that is. I didn’t even ask her to marry me–I told her.
She shouldn’t trust me. If I had my way, I’d take her forever.
If she called this off, I’d have to walk away, and I don’t know if I could do that. It’s a good thing almost all my brothers are here because it would take all of them to stop my bear’s rampage.
Then Maisy walks in, and all my worries disappear. The white dress and diamonds shine a spotlight on her beautiful face. Her blue eyes sparkle more than any diamond ever could.
I feel like I'm in a movie right now, one where everything is scripted exactly as my bear would like.
Except for one detail–her hand resting on Axel’s arm. I watch him closely to see if there’s any regret as he hands her over, but his face is perfectly composed. With Maisy in front of me, I can’t focus on anything but her.
“Hey you,” she whispers to me.
“You,” I say because I’ve lost my ability to speak.
She scrunches her nose and gives me an adorable little grin. “What did Cinderella say about her missing wedding photos?”
I smile. “What?”
“Someday my prints will come.”
I laugh softly. My chest squeezed. She was so cute, so sweet, so fucking innocent. I shouldn’t be doing this.
Faux-Elvis breaks the spell. “Is this the bride? Little darlin’, you’re gorgeous. Ah-ah-ah I’m all shook up.” He starts gyrating and thrusting his hips.
Teddy leans close to us. “Do you want us to kill him and bury him in a shallow grave?” he asks through gritted teeth.
I can’t look away from Maisy. “It’s fine.”
The triplets apparently love it based on their wide grins.
“You ready?” I ask Maisy.
She smiles. “Let’s do this.”
Faux-Elvis starts rambling about love and marriage. Most of the speech is just the lyrics to “Love me Tender.” I can bear it because it allows me to stand close to Maisy. I can smell Axel’s scent on her. I stroke her soft waves back from her bare shoulders to replace his scent with mine.
No one else, I vow to myself. No one else is going to touch her from now on. Only me.
Oh fuck. My bear starts punching to the surface.
All that bare skin–there isn’t enough Moon Cure in the world to keep me from stroking it.
I know there will be no wedding night. I won’t be consummating the marriage. I don’t have the right to strip her naked and lick her all over, and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive. My fangs are sharp and aching, ready to mark her.
I need her so badly. It hurts to breathe when she's not in the room with me, and now that I’ve touched her, I don't know what I'm going to do when I have to let her go.
If I think about that, I'm going to throw her over my shoulder, carry her to the dressing room, and mark her. I'll rip her lovely dress to ribbons.
I'm going to need more doses of Moon Cure to get through the next twenty-four hours.
Right now, I just need to get through the next fifteen minutes without killing Elvis.
“What did the bride decide about the bouquet toss?” I whisper to Maisy.
Her eyes crinkle as she searches my face for the answer.
“It’s still up in the air.”
Her little smile is everything. The triplets, who can hear a whisper with their shifter hearing, all snort.
Finally, it’s time for the vows.
“Now say, “darling, put your hand in mine.” Faux-Elvis instructs, and I repeat the words, taking Maisy’s hand. It’s so small and soft in mine.
“And say, “All right, little mama, you lift me higher, you’re the sun in my sky, the apple in my eye, and I don’t want one more day to go on without you by my side.”
Gazing deep into Maisy’s eyes, I repeat the ridiculous vows and feel like I’m quoting Shakespeare.
I feel them with all of my being. They’re the words I’ve wanted to say for so long.
“I’ll give you the whole world. I’ve already given you my heart.
And today I vow to be with you ‘til death do us part.”
“Matthias.”
Just hearing my name on Maisy’s lips makes my heart feel like it’s going to punch through my chest.
“Love me tender and love me true. As long as you hold onto me, we can make it to the end.”
If only I could hold onto her.
Elvis swivels his hips. "Uh huh. That’s real good. Now slip that ring on and tell her she ain't nothin' but your wife now."
Axel hands me the ring. I cup it in my palm to replace his scent with mine then slide it onto my bride’s finger.
My bride.
My wife.
Maisy.
Mine.
Maisy takes the white gold band that will be my wedding ring. Her hands are shaking, so I help her slip it onto my finger.
Elvis smacks his lips. "By the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the spirit of rock and roll, you may kiss your bride. Thank you, thank you very much."
Hell, yes, I’m going to kiss my bride. I’m going to kiss her until her toes curl.
Just to make it seem real, of course.
Not because I need to taste that mouth more than I need to breathe.
I cup her perfect face in my hands. She sucks in a breath. I can hear both our heart rates speeding faster. Then, they beat in sync.
I lower my head, ready to claim her mouth rough and dirty like the heathen I am, only barely stopping myself just before I touch her lips.
“May I kiss you, Maisy?” I murmur.
She stops breathing.
I stop breathing.
I’ve scared her. Fuck. She’s way too intimidated to even know how to–
Maisy smashes her lips against mine.
I freeze for a moment, savoring the sensation. Savoring her consent. No, not just her consent–her desire.
Fate, how will I ever hold back?
It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to. I switch my hands from the gentle hold on her face to cup her nape and go in for the bear-kill. The searing kiss that will make her soak her panties and beg for more.
I immobilize her head, so I have all the control. My lips stroke across hers on an angle, once. Twice. Then I plunge my tongue between her lips to fuck her mouth with it.
She moans against my mouth. I drink it in.
That’s right, beautiful. I’m going to teach you what a real mouth-fucking is like.
I suck her lips, scrape my teeth across them, plunge my tongue in and out of her mouth. I wrap my arm around the back and yank her body flush against mine, so I can devour her.
Too late, I remember she’s probably never even been kissed.
She’s Maisy. My delicate, breakable mate. My sweet, gorgeous wife.
I yank back, releasing her. My eyes must be glowing. My bear is right at the surface.
I study her face, expecting her to be afraid. Flustered. Undone.
Her eyes remain closed, lips parted. Head tilted back for more.
Fuck. Me.
I give her more. Another round of domination by kissing. Total mastery. Full ownership. I show Maisy how much she belongs to me with each lash of my tongue into her mouth.
This time when we come apart, she lets out a soft mewl of protest. Like she didn’t want it to be over.
I’m so fucked.
I need more Moon Cure. Now.
My brothers cheer and applaud.
"All right, all right, let's get a picture of this hunka hunka burnin' love. Smile now!” Faux-Elvis instructs, and his assistant starts clicking so fast the flashes blind us.
Faux-Elvis starts singing “You give me fever,” complete with leg shaking. The triplets join in with an off-beat cancan that has them kicking up their feet to make their kilts fly up.
I grab Maisy’s hand, and we run to escape the chaos.
My brothers escort us out of the chapel, singing and laughing and talking nonstop.
“Wife,” I say because I want the pleasure of calling her that. Mate, my bear rumbles, satisfied that I just had her in my arms.
“Husband.” She grins up at me, and I feel like I could fly.