CH 49 - #honeymoon
Riley
Song: “Let’s Make Love” by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw
RHYS AND I arrived at the Garden District B&B in New Orleans as the sun was setting. It was a beautifully restored, pastel-green Victorian home built in the late 1860s. The place oozed Southern charm and character, inside and out, and I was thrilled that Rhys and I were staying in it for an entire week.
Our room had a balcony view of Magazine Street, the old oak trees that lined it, and the black wrought iron fences adorned with Mardi Gras beads. The inside of our room had a 12-foot ceiling, a chandelier, pine floors, a four-poster bed, a quilted bedspread, and every amenity one could ever want.
After Rhys and I unpacked our suitcases, I went into the bathroom to change clothes. When I walked out, Rhys shook his head at me and smiled.
“You keep taking my breath away,” he said, coming up to me.
“So you like my nightie then?”
“Yes! It’s sexy as hell.”
Macie was the one who’d found and bought it for me. It was made of white lace and white mesh, had a deep V-neck that reached down between my breasts, and slits up the long, flowy sides. My panties were made of white lace, and the crotch was already damp from my wanting Rhys so badly.
The last time we had sex was in September, days before he showed up early at my duplex, saw me talking to Chad in my front yard, and then ended things with me. After my car wreck, he and I discussed waiting until our wedding night to be together again. We both felt it would be even more special.
“Would you like a glass of champagne?” Rhys asked.
“I would love to have one.”
After popping the cork and filling two glasses for us, he handed mine to me. “To you and me, my beautiful ,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.
“To you and me, my handsome .”
We took a sip and set our glasses on the table near us.
“This may sound silly, but I’m nervous about us having sex again,” Rhys admitted.
“It’s not silly. I’m also nervous.”
“I think it’s going to feel different with us being married.”
“I think it is, too.”
“Let me get some protection.”
As he was stepping away, I grabbed his hand. “No, don’t.”
He searched my eyes. “But what if…”
“So.”
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“I’m ready for all the white-picket-fence-life with you, Riley.”
“I’ll ovulate in a few days, so the time is right for us to make a little Silverman baby.”
With the lights turned down low and country music playing on Rhys’s cellphone, he kissed me softly and slowly. Then he took me by the hand, led me over to the bed, and lifted the straps of my nightie off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
As he canvassed my body with his eyes, he took a deep breath. A moment later, he laid me down across the bed and reached for my panties, slipping them over my hips with ease and dropping them next to my nightie.
I noticed his hands trembling and wondered if he saw that mine were doing the same. We were about to cross another major threshold, this time by possibly creating a child and bringing them into the world in nine months.
I watched Rhys take off his T-shirt, Nike sneakers, socks, cargo shorts, and sports briefs, craving him even more. He’d always had such a beautiful body that I couldn’t touch enough.
After kissing his way up mine like he was worshipping it, he held himself up with his muscular arms on either side of my shoulders and his knees between my legs. My hands were on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart.
We stared at each other, and then Rhys whispered, “I love you,” grabbed his cock, and slowly pushed it inside me. We both moaned and began moving our bodies together in our always-perfect rhythm. I felt drunk, and Rhys looked like he did, too. His eyes were half-closed, and his lips were parted, pleasure written all over his face.
When he suddenly pulled out of me, I didn’t know why but quickly realized what the deal was as Rhys turned me over onto my stomach and lifted my ass into the air. He wanted to take me from behind. After reentering me, he began fucking me hard, just like I was ready for him to do.
As he grunted with each thrust, I bit down on my bottom lip, loving all the ecstasy that I was feeling. It continued after Rhys pulled me down onto the bed with him, laying us both on our sides with his chest against my back and him still thrusting his long cock into me. Then he grasped my chin, turned my face toward his, and started kissing me—our tongues entangled and driving me even wilder.
“I feel you tightening up,” Rhys breathed as he pulled his lips away from mine. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear how good it feels.”
I nodded, and then I lost control, closing my eyes and moaning as my body tingled all over. Rhys came only seconds behind me, and it went on and on for him. Afterward, he kissed me and held me in his arms while I rested my head on his chest.
“It did feel different. It was more intense,” he said.
“It felt more spiritual, too.”
“Yes, it did.”
“I’m going to need to experience that again, husband.”
“So am I…wife.”
An hour later, we gave each other what we needed and continued doing that throughout the week that we stayed in The Crescent City, where the vibe in the air was electric, the folks were wonderful, the food was delicious, Café du Monde coffee was the best, the jazz music was divine, the cemeteries were amazing, and the ghosts came out at night to play. Including Joseph and Rosalie.