Chapter 20
Carter
Seeing Sasha in that chair—it shattered my heart.
The poor thing was a wreck. Her skin pale, dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her hair was limp. Her body was limp.
Her spirit was gone. Vanished.
When she saw me, she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. A tiny smile came to her lips. Then she sobbed herself to sleep in my arms.
I’ll have to let everyone know—my plans will need to wait. She needs time to recover.
I’m sure they will all be fine with the delay. The beaches here are paradise compared to what we have at home. They’ll entertain themselves until it’s time.
When Sasha wakes, I make her eat. I take her to the bathroom. I peel off both of our clothes, crowd us into her parents’ tiny bath. I shower her. I shampoo her long hair. I massage the fatigue and grief and sadness from her body.
I take her to bed, her hair still wet. I lay her naked body down on top of the covers.
I lie above her, holding my weight on my elbows. Now that she’s slept and eaten, it’s time to talk.
I kiss her forehead.
I kiss her eyelids.
I kiss her earlobes.
I whisper into her ear.
I love you.
I’m nothing without you.
There is no me without you.
We all have weaknesses.
Ours complement one another’s perfectly.
You were born to be with me.
You were born to be Sasha. I am asking you to choose whether being Bachman can hold all of that woman, not replace her.
She freezes. Every muscle in her body tenses.
She says, “No. I’m not. I know it. You know it, John knows it, Bronson knows it.”
“All we know is what a strong woman you are. And how much we love you and want you in our family,” I say.
“But the way John looked at me. He thinks you’d be better without me.”
“He doesn’t want me to have to live a minute without you,” I say. And it’s true. Even if she can’t see it through his brash nature. “John is a secret softie and a romantic.”
She says, “But you broke up with me once before, because I couldn’t hold up my end of the deal. This time I really screwed up. I just knew you’d be better off—”
I feel a tightening in my chest, remembering that night, the night she denied me and I left the house for her to collect her things.
I stop kissing her collarbone. I say, “Sasha, I asked you if you wanted to live the Bachman lifestyle. You said I’d have to find a way to live without you, that you’d never give your submission.
I didn’t break up with you because you made a mistake.
Essentially, you broke it off with me when you chose no.
That day, in my office, when you came to me, when you asked me to take you back, when you told me that you would give me the gift of yourself, that’s when we truly started our lives together.
And there’s no giving up or running away.
And there’s certainly no me being better off without you. ”
I cup her face. “And submission does not mean deciding for me that I would be happier without you.”
She blinks.
“You do not get to sacrifice our marriage without allowing me a vote.”
A watery laugh escapes her. “That sounds suspiciously like you are telling me not to be submissive.”
“I am telling you partnership is not selfish control and it is not self-erasure. It is trust in both directions.”
She sniffles. She dabs at her eyes. “There’s not?”
“No, baby girl. You’re stuck with me.”
A tiny smile appears on her lips. My heart wells. I say, “And we are going to make this thing legal. And permanent. And Bachman. Before all the eyes of our family.”
Her brows rise. “You still want to marry me? Not some easier version of me?”
“I want you. Fiery, impossible, generous, ambitious you. Today, in fact.”
Her face scrunches. Adorable. “But… how? Our family isn’t here. It’s just us. And my parents.”
“Remember when I told you we were going on our honeymoon before our wedding? I believe we were scheduled to leave just hours after you took off.”
“Yes, so?”
“It wasn’t a surprise honeymoon I had planned. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having your wedding at the gym. And not having your parents present. And I know they can’t fly. So, instead of a honeymoon, with a little help from the Beauties, we planned a wedding. Here in Greece. This week.”
“The Bachmans are here?”
“Almost all of them. Bronson and Paige are still on their honeymoon, and a few others had to stay behind to keep things in order, but otherwise, they’re all here. Shopping, beaching, eating. Waiting for me to say the word.”
She’s shocked.
“Then we head off to our real honeymoon on our family private island—it’ll be your first chance to go, as an official wife of the family, but I’m afraid it will be a short vacation. We’ve got to get home to Squish.”
“Squish?”
“Your kitten. I named him after we almost ran him over for the second time that night. I brought him home for you and he’s there, now.
Tess wasn’t up for a wedding, and ah… Rockland’s stationed here so he’ll be at the ceremony.
I think she’s avoided crowds, avoiding him.
She was more than happy to stay home and care for Squish till we get back. ”
She stares at me for a long time. Then she grabs my face in her hands and kisses me. She says, “Carter, there’s no one like you in this world, is there?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. But I know one thing.”
“What?”
“There are certainly no other women like you, baby girl.”
We kiss. It’s a kiss of love and loss and passion.
I feel it from the hairs on my head to the depths of my core.
The kind of kiss you never, ever forget.
When we part, I stare into her eyes. I stroke her hair back from her forehead.
The love I feel for her wells in my chest, making it seem as though my heart will burst.
We’re both still nude from the shower. Our warm skin presses against one another—reunited. My fingers trail over her shoulder, her collarbone. Over her tight little nipples. I stroke her soft, small breasts. I cup them in my hands.
Perfect fit.
She watches me. Her soft eyes gazing, filling with desire.
My fingertips trail over her ribs. Her belly. The little hairs on her arms stand. Goosebumps dot her flesh. I run them over her soft curls.
She sighs. Her eyelids close.
My fingers slide between her folds. She’s wet and slippery. Just feeling her makes my cock get hard. It presses against her thigh. Telling her how badly I want her.
I dip my finger within her, gather her juices.
Gently, I rub circles around her swollen bud.
Her breaths become heavy. Her hips begin to move.
God, I love when she gyrates against my hand like this—taking every ounce of pleasure she can get.
I rub harder. Over her bud, then down lower. Fingering her sweet pussy.
Her nipples tighten. Her head arches back. Her hand goes to her breast.
Beautiful.
I move harder, faster. Her breaths quicken. Her pelvis presses toward me. Her muscles tense. Her lips open and she whispers my name. “Oh, Carter. I’m going to come.”
I smile, moving my fingers exactly how she likes. Drawing the orgasm from her body. Her back arches, she cries out. Her body is racked with shudders. Her eyes pop open and she looks at me, surprised at the force of her climax.
Her hands go to my shoulders. Her fingers dig into my flesh. Take me, now.
I need no further instruction.
I find her entrance, pressing the head of my cock against it. She’s so wet. So ready.
So tight.
A little gasp of painful pleasure escapes her as I press into her. One hard thrust fills her with the length of my cock. Her pussy clenches around me. I give a groan. “Damn, baby girl. You feel so good.”
She lifts her hips, welcoming me.
I stop.
Her hands go to the sides of my face. There are tears brimming in her eyes. Her lower lip is trembling.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“I’m just so glad… you came here. That you ignored my note. That you want to marry me after all…” Her words trail off and she breaks my gaze. A single tear trails down her cheek.
“After all the joy you’ve brought into my life?” I ask. “The smiles, the laughs… the sex.” I pull back. She whimpers to find me no longer inside her. Slowly, I press back in. Harder this time.
Her tears are gone. Her eyes are closed. She murmurs, “Kiss me.”
I do. I kiss her with the love and passion I felt for her when we were first dating. When we were first discovering one another’s bodies. The passion that’s strengthened over time, through shared experience. Our tongues tangle. She tastes of Sasha. It makes me want her so badly, I can’t hold back.
One hand goes behind her neck, cradling her head.
The other winds behind her back. Keeping us joined, I pull her up toward me.
I’m on my knees and she’s got her legs wrapped around my waist. Our bellies press together as we kiss.
Her hips start to move. She’s going up, slowly, then comes crashing down on my cock.
I want to explode. Instead, I tangle my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. Pull softly.
She moans. Her pussy tightens and clenches around me. I know neither one of us will last long—we’re too emotionally charged after what’s happened. Albeit brief, I know this is one of the most magnificent experiences of my life.
I’m kissing her neck. Her breaths quicken. She rises up, comes down. Up and down. Riding me. I grab her hips. My fingers dig into her flesh, her ass cheeks.
She loves that.
She starts to ride faster, breathe heavier. She’s moaning, she’s whimpering. Her legs are tightening around my waist. I thrust harder, faster. Her pussy is like a vise, clenched onto my cock, milking it for my seed.
I feel hot, sweaty. Lightheaded. The tension at the base of my cock is almost unbearable.
The feeling moves upward. My cock is throbbing, ready to burst. I grab her ass harder, squeeze her flesh and tell her, “Give it to me, baby girl.” My mouth goes to her neck.
Sucking and biting. One hand leaves her ass.
Finds her hair. I give it one… more… tug.
“Carter! Oh, holy mother of mercy. Carter!”
Her pussy is impossibly tight. My breath catches in my throat.
For one long moment—physically, mentally, and emotionally—pleasure is all that there is.
Finally letting go of all the tension, fear. Releasing myself into her.
This is what she does to me.
She collapses against me, her face resting on my shoulder. Her hair still damp.
I kiss her cheek.
I tell her she’s my everything.
This time tomorrow, she will be my wife.