Chapter Thirty
Beckham took her hand and kissed it once before guiding her down the aisle to their seats in the front row on the groom’s side.
Just as they sat down, instrumental music filled the room.
The guests rose, turning to see Laura appear.
She looked like Cinderella in her wedding dress.
Reyna peeked back at Brian to find his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock and admiration.
Laura swept down the rose-petal aisle to her beloved.
As they stared at each other, Reyna realized she had never seen either of them look so unbelievably happy.
Elle had given them this. Elle and Beckham and security they hadn’t known back in the warehouses.
It was a magical thing to witness. She squeezed Beckham’s hand as tears came to her eyes at the sight.
He squeezed back, and when she turned to look at him, she saw that his gaze was on Reyna and the joy this moment brought her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning her head onto his arm as Brian and Laura said “I do.”
“Anything for you.”
The ceremony ended, and everyone helped to clear the chairs to the side of the room for the reception. Meghan and Tye wheeled in refreshments, and music played from the speakers.
Reyna approached her brother and tugged him into a hug. “Congratulations, big brother.”
“Thanks, little sister.”
Beckham held his hand out to Brian. “Congratulations.”
Brian shook his hand. “I appreciate what you did for us. Maybe I had it wrong about you the first time.”
“It’s an easy mistake to make.”
Reyna liked that he didn’t try to correct Brian, didn’t disagree and say he wasn’t one of the good ones. It had to be a sign of progress.
“Well, thank you again. We owe you. Big time.”
“Absolutely not. It’s a gift. A wedding gift.”
“It was very generous.”
“We’re going to let other people say hi. I’m so happy for you,” Reyna said, pulling Beckham away. “You made their life. You know that, right?”
“I hardly did anything.”
“When you have nothing, anything is a miracle.”
After all the congratulations, Brian led Laura into the first dance.
The rest of the party joined in on the next song.
Reyna saw, with some amusement, Gabe slip in and pull Meghan into a dance.
Tye looked disgruntled. When he tried to dance with Jodie instead, she flipped him off and grabbed Xavier. What a lovers’ quadrangle.
Reyna’s eyes widened even farther when she saw Drew work up the nerve to ask his roommate, Gregory, to dance.
She was even more surprised when the man’s smile lit up his whole face and he all but dragged her brother out onto the dance floor.
They’d joked that Gregory was his boyfriend, but this was the first time she’d gotten real confirmation of that without Drew blowing them off.
“Would you care to dance?” Beckham asked, holding his hand out.
“I’d love to.”
They moved forward into the crowd of people as a slow song came on.
Reyna slipped both of her hands around his neck, and he placed his hands on her hips.
The moment felt surreal. Here she was in Beckham’s arms, surrounded by the people she loved.
It was impossible to believe that after what she had suffered…
all was right with their world, at least for this one night.
They danced through the night, laughing and cheering and celebrating this blissful union. Taking all the happiness they could where they could. In the midst of a rebellion organization, these moments were rare. No one wanted the night to end.
Even Reyna.
Though she was having a hard time keeping her hands to herself after the bottle of champagne she split with Jodie. Her head buzzed. She felt amazing. All she could think about was Beckham’s promise to shred her lingerie. She was ready to take him up on that.
Meghan and Gabe slipping out of the room was the first sign the festivities were winding down. Reyna kissed Brian and Laura as they decided to return to their own room. He squeezed her hand, and then they were off.
“Oh, Reyna,” Beckham said as she twirled back toward him. “You are intoxicated.”
She trailed a hand down the front of his tux. “I’m fine.”
He hefted her into his capable arms against her protests and carried her all the way back to her room.
“Okay. Okay. Put me down. I can walk,” she insisted.
“Perhaps I enjoy carrying you.”
She leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I like when you’re a gentleman.”
“I am no gentleman.”
“Beg to differ.”
He gently set her on her feet, holding on to her waist to steady her. “Do you always see the good in people?”
“You paid for an elaborate wedding for my brother, who up until today wasn’t even sure he liked you.”
“But you love him,” he said as he opened the door and they stepped through it.
“That’s what I mean. You do it with no expectation of return. ‘A wedding gift.’” She reached up and cupped his jaw. “You are a good person.”
“My present does not erase my past.”
“No, it doesn’t. But your past doesn’t define your future, either.”
Beckham stared down at her as if he were seeing his future written in her eyes.
He branded a kiss against her forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed him in.
He slowly walked around her, found the zipper at the base of her spine, and tugged it down.
He slid the straps off her shoulders and let them fall.
The fabric caught on her hips before pooling in a puddle at her feet.
She could feel him assessing her from behind. Her breathing hitched when he grabbed her ass fully in both hands, then traced her skin up to the thong she was wearing. She heard a tear before the slinky material shredded and fell on top of the dress.
Beckham nudged her feet apart, urging her into a wider stance. She moved to kick her heels off, but Beckham gripped her hips.
“Leave the shoes.”
She raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at him over her shoulder.
“I like them,” he confessed.
He leisurely trailed his hand back down to her ass. Around her cheeks and down the backs of her thighs, mapping all the things he liked that the heels accentuated.
“Bend over.”
With exaggerated slowness, she leaned forward until she had enough balance to bend over and grasp the footboard of the bed.
Her ass was in the air and completely on display for him.
His hand slipped back up her thighs, and then he was spreading her cheeks wide for him.
She groaned as he pressed two fingers in her already soaked pussy.
He used his slicked finger and circled the wet digit around her clit.
She bucked against his hand, but he held her steady.
He drew out her pleasure until her legs trembled and she thought they might buckle.
“Becks,” she pleaded. “Please.”
“What would you like, Little One?”
“Fuck me.”
“Don’t move,” he said.
He withdrew, and she nearly fell over at the absence.
She heard each piece of his tux fall to the floor.
It was agonizing, not being able to see him slowly undressing.
But she could picture it with vivid clarity.
The muscled torso. The long, strong legs.
The length of his hanging cock as he approached her.
She trembled in anticipation as he returned to her in distressing slowness.
His hands traced her body—up her back, over her hips, grasping her ass, down her inner thighs, and then back to her clit.
She clenched to keep from bucking back against him at the stroke of her most sensitive bud.
The soft husky chuckle as he removed his hand only made her want him more desperately.
The head of his cock angled toward her, sliding through her wetness. She wanted to push backward and beg for him to take her, but she just dug her fingers into the footboard and tried to hold still.
“Is this what you’d like?” he teased.
“Please.”
“You did so good following instructions. Will you come when I tell you?”
“Yes,” she promised.
“Hold on tight. I won’t be gentle.”
She nearly melted at those words. Her desire was on such an edge that she could barely brace herself for what was to come. He slammed forward into her, seating himself in one power thrust. She cried out in pain and pleasure and the mix of both that had delighted her so much in the past.
“Beckham,” she moaned, seeing stars as he pulled back and then thrust deep inside of her again.
“Look at how well you take my cock,” he said, his hand on the small of her back for leverage as he hit deeper each time. “Look at what a good girl you are.”
“Oh fuck,” she said. The dirty talk was going to send her over the edge even faster than the rest. Her body was primed and ready, and she could barely contain herself.
This was primal. A claiming. She was Beckham’s. Beckham was hers. They belonged together.
“Almost there,” he promised, rutting faster until every movement felt layered upon the next one. Like it was all one deep thrust and there was nothing else in the world.
Sweat beaded on her body, and her legs trembled to hold her up in her high heels.
But Beckham guided her forward another step and pushed her body down into the mattress.
Her entire awareness returned to where he was pumping into her.
Claiming, owning, taking. And she wanted nothing more than to give.
“My name when you come,” he commanded.
“Now, please,” she gasped. “Now.”
“Now,” he agreed, fucking her thoroughly.
Her body exploded at his command. She cried out his name over and over again until it was almost unintelligible. Her pussy tightened around his cock nearly to the point of pain as he unloaded inside of her. A feral roar came from him as he finished, holding her down and commanding her body.
She could be claimed by Beckham Anderson any day of the week. All days that ended in “y”—and all days that didn’t, for that matter.
He released her gently and then pulled out. She would have hit the floor if he hadn’t been there. He picked her up in his arms and lay her across the bed.
“Let me clean you up.”
She reached for him again before he could go. Still wanting.
“More,” she breathed.
He grinned that insufferably attractive smirk that got her hot all over again. “Are you sure?”
“I need you.”
His cock was already lengthening again. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked up and down until he was hard and unyielding beneath her grip.
He didn’t argue further, just pushed into her.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down onto the bed as their lips touched.
Their breath mingled. Their eyes met. The world stopped.
“Bite me,” she whispered as their bodies moved in tandem.
“Reyna,” he groaned. He slowed his movements. “I don’t want to get carried away like last time.”
“Then don’t.”
“I can’t promise…”
“I want all of you, Beckham,” she said sincerely, wrapping her legs around his powerful body. “And I want you to have all of me, too.”
She knew the moment he decided to give in. His breathing slowed. His pupils dilated. His fangs flashed.
“Just a small amount.”
“Yes,” she gasped, turning her head to expose her neck for better access.
His fangs pricked into her neck.
The second the venom hit her, she sighed with sweet relief. Endorphins flooded her system. She felt incredible. Beyond incredible.
This was nothing, nothing at all, like getting venom through an IV. She’d gotten too much in her system every time. She floated away and couldn’t have cared about anything.
This was pure bliss. It was heaven. It was Beckham.
Nothing else could ever compare.
Her body ignited, and as he drank, he continued moving inside of her.
Everything hit her at once, and almost without warning, she came apart a second time.
When she hit the peak, his control slipped and he released into her.
Blood dripped down her neck and chest. It should have terrified her, but all it did was heighten her orgasm.
She could have gone a third time, with the rush of his venom and orgasm still pulsing through her.
She could have died. She would have gladly turned.
But Beckham returned to himself. His fangs retracted, and he pulled back, his breathing still rough. His eyes swept her naked chest, dotted with her own blood. He eased out of her tenderly.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ve never been better.”
He assessed her neck. “Those should heal quickly.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled.
“I stopped.” He seemed shocked he’d done it.
“I knew you would.”
Beckham still stared at her as if she were a miracle and a vision and also somehow impossible. Like he’d believed all along that what had happened the first time they were together would always be the case. He’d just proven that wrong.
“We should get you cleaned up.”
Beckham carried her to the bathroom and started the shower.
He stepped under the hot spray and gently wiped the remaining blood from her skin and took care with her body.
She’d be sore tomorrow, but right now, she felt nothing but restored.
After he toweled her back off, they returned to the bedroom.
“I have something for you,” she told him.
“I think you already gave me everything.”
She extracted a carefully wrapped present from under her bed. “Here.”
Beckham stared at the package as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but he took it out of her hands and opened it.
Inside was a stretched canvas print of the city skyline photo she had taken when she was with him on that rooftop all those months ago.
It was the night they had first really known they had feelings for each other.
It was also the first night Beckham had told her about the rebellion, about looking from a different perspective, about seeing Visage as it was and not just how it appeared.
His eyes were wide with consideration. “From the rooftop?”
She nodded. “I thought it would look nice in your apartment or at work. To have a piece of me in the heart of the beast.”
“You already have my whole heart.”