Chapter 29 #3
We make it back to the estate in record time, barely stopping to drop off Harper's shoes at coat check before heading straight for the guest wing.
Our room is in the east wing—one of the estate's luxury suites with a king bed, fireplace, and private balcony overlooking the ocean. Roman insisted we take it, said something about "making sure my best man is properly rested for tomorrow."
Pretty sure this isn't what he had in mind.
The moment the door closes behind us, Harper turns to me with a smile.
"So," she says, shrugging out of her coat. "I was thinking. We should probably do an early toast to Roman and Calli. You know, private celebration before tomorrow's chaos."
"A toast?"
"There's champagne in the room's bar." She crosses to it, bending to examine the bottles. "We could—"
I'm behind her in three strides, my hands on her hips, pulling her back against me.
"Or," I say, my lips against her ear, "we could skip the champagne."
"Skip the—" She turns in my arms, eyes darkening. "You have a better idea?"
"Several."
My coat hits the floor. Then hers. Her hands are already working on my tie, loosening it, pulling it free.
"Someone's impatient," I murmur against her mouth.
"I've been watching you in this tuxedo all night," she says, pushing my jacket off my shoulders. "Watching you be charming and competent and devastatingly handsome. I'm done being patient."
"Devastating, huh?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
I do, backing her toward the bed, my hands finding the zipper of her dress and sliding it down slowly.
The burgundy fabric pools at her feet, and I discover she's wearing black lace underneath—a matching set that makes my train of thought veer off the rails.
"You wore this under your dress all night?"
"I was feeling optimistic."
"You're going to kill me."
"That's the plan."
I turn her to face me, taking in the sight of her—creamy skin and curves and softness and so fucking beautiful it hurts.
"You're staring," she says.
"I'm appreciating."
"There's a difference?"
"Huge difference." I trace one finger along the edge of her bra, watching her breath hitch. "Staring is passive. Appreciating is active. Involves touching."
"Then appreciate me properly."
I kiss her deeply, my hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts through the lace. She arches into my touch, her own hands going to my shirt buttons.
"You're overdressed," she manages between kisses.
"Fix it."
She does, unbuttoning my shirt with steady hands while I try not to lose my mind at the feeling of her fingers on my skin. When my shirt joins her dress on the floor, she runs her hands over my chest, exploring, her touch leaving fire in its wake.
"I love your body," she murmurs.
"It's just a body, sweetheart."
"It's your body. That makes it perfect."
The words nearly unravel me, and with a growl, I reach behind her, unhooking her bra and sliding the straps down her soft arms. Her breasts are perfect—full and soft, her blush-pink nipples already hard.
I lower my head and take one taut nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, and she gasps, her hands fisting in my hair.
"Victor—"
I switch to the other breast, giving it the same attention, using my hand to tease the first while Harper makes these small sounds—tiny whimpers and sighs that make my blood pump faster, her body arching into mine as I try to devour her with my mouth.
I kiss my way down her stomach, dropping to my knees in front of her.
"What are you—"
"Appreciating you. Properly."
I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and pull them down slowly, my eyes never leaving hers.
She steps out of them, completely naked now except for the garter belt and stockings she wore under the dress.
"You kept the stockings on," I note.
"I thought you might like them."
"I fucking love them."
I run my hands up her legs, over the silk of the stockings to the bare skin of her thighs, and she shivers.
"Cold?"
"You know I'm not cold."
"Then what are you?"
"Impatient."
I grin and lean forward, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.
"Patience is a virtue."
"Patience is overrated."
I kiss higher, alternating between her thighs, getting closer but never quite where she wants.
"Victor, if you don't—"
"Don't what?"
"Touch me. Properly. Right now."
"So demanding."
"You love it."
I do. I lean in and put my mouth on her, and she makes a sound that sends my cock shooting north.
She's already wet, and I use my tongue to explore her, reveling in each gasp, grunt, and moan, and when I find her clit, sucking gently, her knees buckle.
Luckily, I'm right there—steadying her with my hands on her hips.
"Bed," she exhales out. "I need—bed—"
I stand and guide her to the mattress, watching as she lies back on the crisp white sheets, her hair spread out like a dark halo.
And she's never looked more gorgeous.
In seconds, I shed my pants and boxer briefs, watching as her hazel eyes widen into full moons as she takes me in.
"Come here," she says.
"Demanding again."
I crawl over her, settling between her legs, and kiss her deeply. She can taste herself on my tongue, and the sound she makes tells me she likes it.
"I want to taste you too," she says.
"Later. Right now I need to be inside you."
I reach between us, finding her clit with my fingers, circling it with just enough pressure to make her body bow and writhe.
I slide two fingers inside her, and she's so wet they go in easily.
"Fuck, Harper. You're so ready for me."
"I've been ready since the moment we arrived. Since—oh God—"
I curl my fingers, finding that spot against her front wall that makes her moan, and she clenches around me.
"I want to make you come like this first," I say. "I want to feel it."
"Victor—"
"Then I'm going to fuck you. Slowly. Until you come again. And then maybe—if you're very good—I'll let you taste me."
I pump her gently with my fingers, my thumb circling her clit, and I can feel her getting close.
"That's it, gorgeous," I murmur. "Let go. Come for me."
She does, her whole body tensing before the waves hit, and I watch her face as she comes apart—eyes closed, pink mouth open, completely undone.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
When she comes down, her amber-gold eyes flutter open, her gaze glazed and steady on me.
"I love you," she says.
"I love you too."
I line myself up with her entrance and push inside in one slow, deep stroke. We both instantly groan as I set a rhythm.
Rocking Harper into a beat that's slow and steady, I pull almost all the way out before sliding back in. I increase my pace, driving into her harder, deeper, and like the perfect little minx she is, she meets me thrust for thrust.
Her long legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, changing the angle so I'm hitting that spot inside her with every stroke.
"Fuck," she gasps. "Right there—don't stop—"
"Not planning to."
I can feel her starting to tighten around me, can see it in the way her breath catches and her hands grip my shoulders.
And suddenly, the words I'd been planning for are there.
Unplanned. Unscripted.
Completely inevitable.
"Marry me," I say, my voice rough.
Harper's amber eyes fly open. "What?"
"Marry me. Again. For real this time."
"Wait, I-I'm confused. What do you—"
"I know we're already married. I know this is insane.
But I don't want to wait for Quebec City.
I don't want to wait for the perfect moment or the perfect plan.
" I keep moving inside her, my rhythm unyielding.
"I want you to know right now, right here, that I choose you.
On purpose. That Vegas wasn't a mistake—it was the best accident of my life. "
"You're—you're proposing to me while we're having sex?"
"Is that a problem?"
She laughs, breathless and beautiful. "It's not, actually."
"Is that a yes?"
"You don't even have a ring—"
"I brought the ring."
"To Roman's wedding?"
"Apparently my subconscious had a different plan than my conscious mind." I cradle her gorgeous face in my hand, meeting her golden gaze. "Harper Beaumont-Kade, will you marry me? Again?"
She's crying now, tears streaming down her face, her smile so wide it makes my chest ache.
"Yes," she says. "Yes, I will, Viktor Ashford Kade."
My heart now twisting in my chest, I kiss her, driving into her harder, as she cries and laughs and comes all at once, clenching around me so hard I can barely breathe.
The feeling sends me over the edge, and I come with her name on my lips, burying myself as deep as I can go.
For a long moment after, I hold her there in my arms, loving the feel of her, basking in the simple knowledge that Harper Beaumont-Kade is unabashedly mine.
We lay there, still connected, until after a minute or two, my wife speaks.
"Did that really just happen?" She asks finally.
“What, you mean me proposing while inside you?” I hold her tighter. “Sweetheart, I'm nothing if not efficient."
She laughs, and I feel it everywhere. "Christian and Roman are never going to let you live this down."
"They're never finding out."
"Oh, I'm definitely telling them."
"Harper—"
"What? It's the best proposal story ever. 'How did he propose?' 'Well, funny story—'"
I kiss her to shut her up, and she melts into it, her hand threading through my hair.
When I finally pull out, she makes a small sound of protest.
"Don't go anywhere," I say.
"Where would I go? I'm naked and newly engaged."
"Again."
"Right. Newly engaged again." She grins. "We really need to stop getting married-slash-engaged in unconventional ways."
"Or we lean into it. Make it our thing."
"Our thing is chaos?"
"Our thing is us." I roll to the side, bringing her with me. "No plans. No perfect moments. Just whenever it feels right."
"I love that," she says softly. "I love you."
"I love you more."
We lie there for a while, and then Harper sits up suddenly.
"The champagne! We were supposed to toast Roman and Calli."
"I think we got distracted."