19. Ryder
I can’t tell if I’ve completely won her over, but my next move is sure to earn me some husband points. A ping of regret bounces around my chest as I let her go, but my new ink wasn’t the only plan I had and I have to back away to deliver it.
“You hungry?” I ask, making my way back to the fridge.
“I could eat.” The combination of her word choice and sultry voice ignited parts of me in a way I can’t describe.
I pull out a brown paper bag and set it on the counter. Taking a seat, I watch as suspicion is painted on her face. She saunters over to the bag curiously.
“Leftovers?” She asks.
“Not quite. Take a look.”
“I’ve watched too many ‘what’s in the box’ videos. Tell me what it is.” She crosses her arms but smiles.
I reach in to grab a clear box and she’s relieved when she sees the top tier of our wedding cake. Miniature versions of us sit on top. I pluck two forks from the bag as she scoots onto the nearest stool.
“What do you say, Mrs. Totaro, shall we partake in a wedding tradition?” I ask studying her reaction and offering a fork in her direction.
“Aren’t we supposed to eat this on our year anniversary?” She challenges with an arched brow, the corner of her mouth pulls her lips into a sultry smirk.
“Well, I thought you might say that. But we didn’t get to eat cake at our wedding, so we are no longer obligated to abide by that rule,” I say offering a fork to her.
The sly smile on her face makes a dimple more evident and her gaze sparkles with impish intent. “Well, there is one tradition I was looking forward to.”
I can read her mind. Dropping the forks, we lunge for the cake taking handfuls before not so elegantly trying to shove it in each other’s faces. Cake flies across the kitchen. Frosting smears on our clothes and hair. I try to stand before she strikes again.
My height gives me an advantage, but she is clearly a competitive woman, not wavering in her attempt to smear me with frosting. We bob and weave as she squirms out of the chair to make a run for it.
“Oh no you don’t!” I pounce, grabbing her around the waist with one arm as she squeals. She kicks her feet in the air as I effortlessly pull her back to the counter.
Fumbling over a stool, I try to cushion her impact as we crash to the ground. She’s on top of me. Breaths heavy, she uses a finger to swipe frosting off of my cheek. I nearly come undone as she sticks her finger in her mouth and hollows her cheeks.
A blanket of silence covers us. She is a beautiful mess, and she’s mine. Her hair has fallen out of her bun and I palm it away to bring her sweet, frosted lips to mine. A quiet moan leaves her and I know, I’ve truly been forgiven. She hasn’t said the words, but I can feel it.
“Fiona isn’t going to be happy about this.” She sits up taking in the mess that we’ve made.
“Well, we better get out of here before she catches us then,” I wink as we stand. “What about one more tradition?” I ask, lifting my bride to carry her upstairs and over the threshold of our suite.
* * *
With the shower running, I sturdy her before me. I unzip the front of her bra and run my fingers up and over her shoulders taking her in as the cloth falls to the floor. Her eyes are connected to mine as I kneel down, hooking my fingers at the waist of her pants, dragging them down until they pool at her feet and she steps out.
I kiss her stomach before pulling her leg up and over my shoulder giving me better access to trace her center with my tongue. She leans back to brace herself on the counter as I continue to nip and tease her before flattening my tongue, earning a moan of approval.
She runs her fingers through my hair and pulls my head back when it becomes too much, but silently asks for more.
I stand to remove the rest of my clothes before wrapping her in my arms and walking us into the shower. Placing her under the water, she closes her eyes, allowing me to clean her face.
Her beauty overwhelms me and I’m caught staring like a wolf about to devour their prey. We take turns washing each other. A sweet smile floats across her face. I know I need to think of a million new ways to bring that smile out.
I lean in, my mouth finding her ear. “Say it, sparrow.” She knows what I want.
“I forgive you.” Her eyes hold mine tenderly.
Her unreadable default is crumbling, and I can feel that she wants this as much as I do. Lifting her to me, I line myself up to her entrance, and with one thrust, I’m seated fully inside her. Her nails dig into my shoulders as I push her against the wall. I give her a moment to stretch around me.
She provides me a nod of permission once she catches her breath but as much as I want to consume her, I want to savor this moment. Labored breaths and running water are the only sounds around us as I slowly push myself in and out of her. She tilts her head back as her hands find my face. Her fingers tenderly trace my jaw as she accepts me.
Her walls begin to tighten around me and I pause for her to take the reins and work herself through her orgasm. Her moans echo throughout the room. The sight of her coming undone, knowing it was my cock that had her unraveling was enough to push me over the edge, but I’m determined to stay in her as long as possible.
I push us off the wall and bring us to the water. Setting her down and spinning her away from me, I watch the water cascade down her breasts.
She leans forward placing her hands on the wall, inviting me to take her – and I do. It’s not long before she is ready to come again and I wrap my arms around her middle, drawing her to me as I follow.