CHAPTER 23 DANNY
Holy shit.
We’re married.
I’m a husband.
I have a wife.
“Congratulations,” my mom says once I pull back from the kiss that might’ve turned indecent if my mother wasn’t here. She hugs me, squeezing me tightly, while Alexis hugs Gregory, and he says a similar sentiment to her. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. For everything.”
She brushes away some more tears, and she hugs Alexis next while Gregory sticks out a hand to shake mine.
I bat it out of the way and give him a hug, too. He’s surprised by me, but I kind of like throwing this guy off his game a little. “Thanks for everything, Sargeant Sunshine.”
He muffles a chuckle, but I swear I saw it there. “You’re welcome,” he says gruffly.
My wife plows into me. “Oh my God, we’re married!”
“We’re married,” I echo. That’ll take some getting used to.
Gregory grabs the four flutes and a bottle of champagne, and he pops it open. He pours the liquid out, only putting a small sip into his own, and then he hands us each a glass for a toast. “To the newlyweds,” he says, and we all clink glasses.
Before I take a sip, I drop a kiss down to my wife’s lips, and then we each drink some of the champagne.
Gregory stops the recording on my phone and readjusts the tripod, and he acts as an amateur photographer to snap the most important day of our lives for us on my phone.
It’s not the wedding most people would expect for Alexis Bodega, but somehow, it’s absolutely perfect for us.
And now we have five days to enjoy being newlyweds.
Five days until she has to return to reality…with me by her side. With her husband by her side.
My mom signs our marriage certificate, and Gregory and my mom leave after the glass of champagne. They don’t make a big production out of it, instead clearly getting the hint that the two of us would like some time alone to celebrate our union.
I click play on “Come Away with Me” by Norah Jones.
My usual playlists tend to be eclectic, but not full of romantic songs.
Still, the first time I heard this one, it hit me in its simplicity.
It’s all I want—for the two of us to be able to go away together, relying solely on each other, just as we have for the last few days.
I don’t know if anything could have pushed us closer together than her showing up at my hotel room and asking me to run away with her.
When she said run away with me and I said always, I meant it.
We sway to the song on our rooftop patio, her head against my chest. The moment feels like utter perfection, unmarred and uninterrupted, a moment just for the two of us to share.
Tomorrow our guests will start arriving. They’ll be expecting to watch us get married the next day.
We don’t have to tell them it’s already done. This was our own plan, our own measure of protection against any outside forces who might show up between now and then.
And I’m ready to make it official with the consummation.
The song ends, and another song starts to play, this one by Adele.
I filled the playlist with romantic tunes, and one or two by her even made the list against my first instinct that I didn’t want to play a song she might have written for someone else.
But I reminded myself that there was no one else before me. She’s made that clear, just as there was no one else for me before her.
And there will be no one else after her, either.
This is it. The two of us, sealed in commitment, forever.
I wouldn’t have involved my mother as our officiant if I didn’t really believe we were going to find a way to make this work.
She pulls back as we listen to Adele croon about always loving you, and her eyes meet mine.
“We did it,” she whispers as her eyes search mine.
“We did.”
She must find what she needs as her gaze lingers on mine, and she rises to her tiptoes to meet my lips in a kiss.
Our kiss intensifies, turning urgent as she feels the same need I do, that same desire to start our forever right now.
I pull back and I take her hand in mine.
I lead her down the stairs to the primary bedroom, and we kiss some more in there before I painstakingly slowly lower the zipper on her dress and help her out of it.
It falls to a pile on the floor, and she stands in front of me in a lacy white lingerie set—a true fantasy come to life.
How the fuck did a guy like me get so lucky?
I get even luckier as she unwraps me like a present.
She slides my tuxedo jacket off my shoulders, and it drops to the floor.
She pulls off my tie then gets started on the row of buttons down my shirt, and once she gets to the last one, she slides her hands along my abdomen before moving them around me to pull me close.
We kiss some more, our hands exploring each other as if it’s our first time, and in a way it is our first time.
We’ve never done this as husband and wife before.
There’s a new level of emotion between us that didn’t exist before.
I didn’t think it would feel this different this fast, but it does. We’re bonded in a way now that neither of us has ever been bonded to another person before, and while that easily could’ve been said about the two of us before the last hour, this is different.
Before we still had the threat of all the other shit falling down around us to tear us apart.
But now…we’re safe. We’re protected by the promises we made.
They can try to come at us with their manipulations and their lies, but they won’t break us. And there’s an awful lot of comfort in that.
I turn us and back her up until her legs hit the bed, and then I gently lower her down, kissing her the entire way. I break the kiss to climb up and hover over her for a beat.
“I love you, my wife,” I murmur, my eyes on hers, and the way she’s looking up at me with pure trust combined with heat and lust nearly makes me lose it.
“I love you, too, my husband,” she says, rolling the word around a little, and it’s absolute music to my ears—not just because her voice is naturally melodic, but because more beautiful words have never been spoken.
I slide her panties down her legs, and she sits up to take off her bra while I shove my pants and boxers off.
I move over her again, and this time as our eyes connect, I push into her.
My chest is tight with emotion as I move slowly at first, her tight pussy pulsing over my cock. She moans, and I bury my face in her neck as our bodies speak the language they know so well.
I groan at the perfect feel of her, my voice humming against her throat as I inhale, breathing her in.
Her nails run along my back, and when I buck into her a little harder, her nails start to dig. Every thrust is another promise that this is forever, and I feel it in my heart as I make love to her.
My need grows unbearable, and I pick up the pace as urgency starts to set in. I want her to come at the same time as me, to start our life in perfect synchronization, and I feel her cunt start to clench around me as her moans get louder and more heated.
“Come with me,” I growl into her throat, and she gasps at my words.
I start to drive into her with desperation, and I move away from her neck to capture her lips with mine.
The heat builds until it breaks, ripping through me in a soul-shattering kind of orgasm.
She cries out as I start to come. Time stands still as we continue moving in unison, and our bodies give way to the brutal climax we’ve been racing toward.
Her nails dig into my back as we crash through the waves of pleasure together, an explosion that rocks us both to our very cores together. Eventually the pulses start to slow, giving way to the sweet afterglow that I want to bask in forever.
We’re both quietly panting as we catch our breath after that brutal release, and I pull out of her and lay beside her.
“Married sex takes the cake as the best sex,” I say, and I offer my hand for a high-five.
She laughs as her hand slaps mine.
I think I might be able to get used to this whole newlywed thing.