Chapter 10
We walked into the penthouse just before 11 p.m. I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but Oliver had other plans. As we exited the elevator, he scooped me up effortlessly and carried me down the hall to the door, balancing me in his arms while he unlocked it.
Inside, the place was bathed in the soft glow of candles scattered all over the main room. Rose petals formed a delicate path leading to our bedroom. Oliver carried me along the trail, gently placing my feet on the floor once we reached the bedroom and planting a tender kiss on my lips.
"Let me help you out of your dress," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.
I yawned, feeling the weight of the day catching up with me. "Oliver, I'm so tired."
"I'll make sure to keep you awake," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Can't I take a nap first?" I pleaded, half-joking.
"No, you can't. We've waited long enough." His tone was firm but playful.
He shrugged out of his jacket, draping it on the bench at the end of the bed. I stepped closer to him, pulling at one side of his tie, loosening it and sliding it off. I tossed it on top of his jacket before I started working on the buttons of his shirt.
"You really wear a tux well," I said, my fingers deftly moving down the row of buttons.
"And you really wear a wedding dress well," he responded, his voice low and appreciative. "I almost lost it when I saw you come down the aisle this afternoon. I thought of how lucky I was to have you."
"I'm the lucky one," I murmured, feeling a surge of love for him.
I pulled the shirt tails out of his pants, pushing the fabric off his shoulders, trapping his arms momentarily.
"I have you right where I want you, Mr. Fox," I teased, a smile playing on my lips.
His eyes darkened with desire. "Do you now, Mrs. Fox?"
Oliver chuckled as I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. His erection was already straining against the black silk boxers he wore. As I freed him, Oliver pulled his shirt back on and started to remove the platinum cufflinks with the letter F.
They were his father’s, and a locket his mother owned was tucked inside the pocket of his jacket. Our parents were with us even when they weren’t. I released his penis, stroking him before stooping over to take him into my mouth.
"Not yet," he said, his voice husky.
"Why not? Would you deny your wife on our wedding night?" I teased, looking up at him.
"I want you naked, and then we can talk. Turn around so I can unzip you."
I did as he requested, feeling his fingers gently unzip my dress, sliding it down my shoulders until it pooled at my feet. He helped me step out of it, leaving me standing in my ivory heels and white lace panties.
"Don't you make a pretty sight," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire.
"So do you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
Oliver picked up my dress and carefully hung it in the closet. When he returned, he was fully naked, his cock standing straight and proud.
"Fully naked, Mrs. Fox," he commanded softly.
I slipped out of my shoes and pushed my panties over my hips, tossing them to Oliver. He caught them and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply. His shaft twitched as he did.
"On the bed, all fours please," he said, his tone both commanding and tender.
"No foreplay?" I asked, shivering in anticipation.
"Judging from how damp your panties are, you don't need it," he replied, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Five long, torturous nights without him inside me had left me desperate. As I positioned myself on all fours, he gave me a gentle slap on the ass before slicking the head of his penis through my folds.
He continued teasing me, bumping my swollen clit until I was grinding my teeth in frustration. I whimpered when he finally positioned himself at my entrance, grabbing my hips and thrusting hard inside me. I came instantly, my body clenching around his thick cock, waves of pleasure coursing through me.
"Jesus Christ, Ryleigh, you're like a spring trigger," he groaned, his grip tightening on my hips.
"You feel so good," I moaned, my voice breathy and full of need.
Oliver's pace quickened, his thrusts deep and powerful, each one sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I could feel the tension building again, and I knew it wouldn't be long before I came undone once more.
Oliver flexed his hips and curled his fingers around my flesh, pumping inside me in a methodical rhythm. As he moved, I could feel my orgasm rising and then he stopped, causing me to mewl in protest. Oliver pulled out of me, climbed on the bed and leaned his back against the padded headboard. His cock was inviting and glistening with my juices.
“I want you in my arms.”
“I was so close,” I whispered.
“And you shall be again. You should’ve eaten because you’re going to need your strength tonight.”
I bit my lip. “I wasn’t hungry. I was nervous.”
He gestured for me to come to him, and I crawled along the bed, standing on the unsteady mattress so I could sink down on his erection. He groaned as I enveloped him and settled in his lap. Oliver slid the pads of his fingers along my spine, caressing the skin as we rocked.
He pressed his lips to my ear. “I love you, Ryleigh. You’re my one and only, my true love.”
I sighed. “Sometimes you sound like a teenager.”
“You make me feel that way.”
Oliver reached between us to rub my swollen nub, he applied just the right amount of pressure, and I broke apart, leaning back against his raised legs. And still, he kept rocking. After five nights of no sex, I expected him to explode quickly but that wasn’t the case. His staying power was incredible.
We made love several times that night until I was sore and begging him to leave me alone. He gave in and curled his body around mine. We faded off to sleep just before 2:30 a.m. with Oliver wishing me a happy birthday.
“Ryleigh, baby, you need to get up or we’re going to miss our flight,” Oliver said, his voice pulling me from the edges of sleep.
“Go away. I’m exhausted and it’s my birthday. What time is it?” I mumbled into my pillow, not ready to face the day.
“6 a.m.,” he replied, his tone firm but gentle.
I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow. “Are you out of your mind? We went to bed four hours ago.”
“You can sleep on the plane,” he suggested, trying to coax me out of bed.
“That’s only two and a half hours. I need like eight hours or more,” I protested, feeling the weight of my exhaustion.
“Up. You only need to get dressed. You’re already packed,” he reminded me, his persistence unwavering.
“I can’t just get dressed. I’m a sticky mess from you,” I complained, turning over to face him.
Oliver smirked. “From me? You had a hand in our lovemaking if I remember correctly. I made the early part of your birthday memorable.”
“Shut up. Can’t we fly out later?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
“No. Now get up, especially if you want to shower. I’ll get it started for you,” he said, heading into the bathroom. I heard the water start running, a gentle invitation to wake up.
I dragged myself from bed, my body protesting every movement, and walked naked into the bathroom. Oliver was shaving, his face focused on the mirror. I groaned again.
“What’s your problem?” he asked, glancing at me.
“Why are you shaving? I like the scruff,” I said, pouting slightly.
“I won’t shave this week and you can have all the scruff you want,” he promised with a wink.
“I hope so,” I muttered, stepping into the shower. The hot spray hit me, waking me up a bit more.
“Of course, you might complain about the rash,” Oliver called over the sound of the water.
“Huh?” I yelled back, confused.
“You might complain about the rash,” he repeated.
I backed up and wiped my soaked hair off my face, peeking out of the shower. “What rash?”
“The one on the inside of your thighs,” he explained with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
I blushed, a mix of irritation and amusement bubbling up inside me. My core tightened in a series of clenches and even though I was sore, I wanted him. Bastard.
When I came out, Oliver was lounging on the bed in a pair of khaki shorts and a dark blue polo shirt. He watched me as I walked into the closet to dress. I wasn’t aware he was behind me until he cupped my breasts, making me jump.
“I don’t have energy for you this morning,” I said, my voice half-joking, half-serious.
“I didn’t say anything about sex. I just wanted to touch you. You’re a grump this morning. Is this what I have to look forward to now that you have my ring on your finger?” he teased, his hands warm against my skin.
“No! Let me dress. Can you make me some strong coffee?” I asked, hoping caffeine would help.
“Yes. I hope it will take some of the vinegar out of you,” he said, backing away. I threw my towel at him as he went through the closet door. Oliver swiped it from the floor and walked out of the bedroom.
I took my time getting dressed, consistently yawning. I would definitely be sleeping on the plane. Oliver was drinking coffee when I came out to the kitchen, scrolling through his emails. He looked up as I entered, a smile playing on his lips.
I yawned. “Where’s all the candles and rose petals?”
“I cleaned them up before I woke you.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “You cleaned them up?”
“Yes.”
The evening before, Oliver had gotten up to get me some water before we went to sleep. I assumed he blew all the candles out then.
“Don’t we have employees for that?” I asked.
Oliver laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “One day as Mrs. Fox and you’re already putting on airs?”
I smacked his arm playfully. “Shut up, I am not. I just can’t see you cleaning up a bunch of candles and rose petals.”
“Well, I did,” he said, feigning indignation. “I put the candles in a box we had in the pantry. They might come in handy one of these days.”
I moved closer to him, taking a long sip of coffee from his large black mug. The bitter taste made me wrinkle my nose. “Ugh, at least put some sugar in it.”
“Did I invite you to drink my coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but you didn’t make me a cup either,” I replied, pouting slightly.
“Aww, my poor wife,” he teased, his voice full of affection.
I shivered when the words rolled off his tongue. I was his wife, and he was my husband. “Say it again.”
He cocked his head, pretending not to understand. “My poor wife?”
“Not the poor part, the wife part,” I clarified, my heart fluttering.
He grinned, leaning closer. “Wife, wife, wife. My wife.”
The words rolled off Oliver’s tongue, velvety and smooth. I stared at him and if it was possible, I fell even deeper in love with him.
“I love the sound of that,” I said, feeling a warmth spread through me.
“And what am I to you?” he asked, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Husband. Let me introduce my husband, Oliver Fox.”
“It sounds perfect. You’re perfect,” he murmured, putting his phone down and swiveling his chair to pull me in between his legs. He embraced me, and we just stared at each other, lost in the moment.
“I can’t believe we’re married,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the contours of his face.
“Well, Mrs. Fox, believe it. Are you ready to go?” he asked, his voice softening.
“Yes. Did you text Vlad?” I asked, pulling back slightly.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Brenda, Raquel, and Trevor will also be traveling with us. The other four agents are on Fox Island already.”
“Eight agents all together?” I asked, my eyebrows raising in surprise.
“It’s a big island and Jonah is there,” he explained, his tone serious.
“I hope he behaves,” I said, my worry creeping into my voice.
“He will if he wants to stay in my good graces. He’s caused enough problems,” Oliver assured me, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about our upcoming journey.
“Are you angry he didn’t attend our wedding?”
Oliver gave me a hard look. “Once upon a time I thought he would straighten out and stand next to me as my best man, but he fucked that up. I should’ve expected it.”
I pursed my lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. It is what it is. Jonah will never change.”
He let me go and tapped on his phone to let Vlad know we were ready to head to the airport.
As the plane ascended into the practically cloudless blue sky, I fell asleep almost instantly. My dreams were vivid, filled with scenes from our wedding the day before. When I woke up two hours later, a smile lingered on my face. Oliver was working on his laptop, and just then, the captain's voice crackled over the intercom, informing us that we would be landing soon.
"Good morning, wife," Oliver said, leaning over to kiss my cheek.
I stretched, still basking in the warmth of my dreams. "I had a wonderful dream about our wedding."
He chuckled softly. "It wasn't a dream, Mrs. Fox. We're married."
"I know," I said, my heart swelling with happiness. "And that makes me very happy."
"We'll be on the ground soon," he informed me, his face lighting up with excitement. "I can't wait to show you the house."
"I'm excited too," I replied, my own anticipation growing.
The plane began its descent, and I peered out the window as we flew through a few wispy clouds. Twenty minutes later, we were being transported in a sleek black SUV to a boat Oliver had purchased. It was a forty-foot twin-engine beauty with a covered cockpit and two staterooms. My excitement surged as I stepped onto the deck, feeling the gentle sway of the boat beneath my feet.
I stayed in the cockpit with Oliver while he maneuvered the boat out of the marina. The control panel was a maze of shiny digital instrumentation that I was clueless about. The water was a breathtaking turquoise and remarkably calm. I squeezed Oliver's arm, feeling a rush of exhilaration.
My body was alive with electricity the same way it had been when I was a child on Christmas morning. I couldn’t wait to see our home. As we neared Fox Island, I noticed a long dock that jutted out into the water. It was much longer than the supply boats had used months before.
"You built the dock longer?" I asked, noting the impressive stretch of wood extending into the water.
"Yes," Oliver said, adjusting his grip on the wheel. "So I could dock this boat. The water is deeper further out."
"You never told me you knew how to captain a boat."
He smirked. "You never asked."
I raised an eyebrow. "Could you pilot your yacht too?"
"Yes, and I have. I'm very skilled at many things," he said, flashing a wicked smile.
"Asshole," I muttered under my breath.
"Are you ever going to stop calling me that?" he asked, laughter in his voice.
"I haven't decided. Maybe if you would stop being so arrogant."
His smirk grew into a wide smile. "It's part of my charm. It made you want me."
I rolled my eyes. "Now you really are acting like an asshole."
"But I'm your asshole. You're stuck with me forever."
I couldn't help but smile. "I'm looking forward to it."
Oliver chuckled as he expertly swung the boat to line it up with the dock. Two men dressed in white uniforms appeared, securing the boat to the moorings bolted into the wood. They helped us get off the boat and began retrieving our luggage.
In the distance, I saw our home through the palm trees. Oliver had it built on twenty-foot pilings, sunk deep into the ground. It looked sturdy, well-protected from storm surges during hurricanes. Oliver took my hand and led me down the dock to one of two golf carts with wide tires and double seats.
"These were unnecessary, I could walk," I said, eyeing the carts.
"It's easier to drive," he replied, guiding me into the passenger seat.
Oliver got me settled in the front passenger seat while Raquel and Brenda climbed into the back. Vlad, Trevor, and the two employees were taking our luggage up using the other golf cart. My stomach started to churn with nerves as the full enormity of the house came into view. The stucco was painted ivory white, and there were many windows that I suspected were hurricane-proof.
We drove up to a patio of sand-colored pavers constructed under the house. Wooden stairs led up to a large deck. Oliver got out, opened a panel and pressed a button. I heard a whirl, and right in front of us, an elevator lift descended.
"We have an elevator!" I squealed, excitement bubbling over.
"Yes," Oliver said, smiling at my reaction. "I didn't think you'd want to trudge up and down the stairs. Plus, it makes it much easier to load supplies into the house."
I stepped out of the golf cart, still in awe. "You really thought of everything."
Oliver's grin widened as he helped me into the elevator. "I wanted it to be perfect for you."
Raquel and Brenda joined us, their eyes wide with amazement. "This place is incredible," Raquel said, glancing around.
Brenda nodded in agreement. "It really is. You've outdone yourself, Mr. Fox."
The elevator ride was smooth, and when we reached the top, the doors opened to reveal the spacious deck. The view was breathtaking, the turquoise water glistening in the sunlight.
"This is our new home," Oliver said softly, his arm around my waist. "Do you like it?"
"I love it," I whispered, leaning into him.
We stepped out onto the deck, and Oliver led us inside. The interior was just as stunning, with open spaces, modern furnishings, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. It felt like a dream.