She turns and passes her bouquet of white roses to Evanna and then places both hands in mine. I slowly rub my thumbs back and forth over the top of her hands, hearing little of what the minister is saying.
Our ceremony is traditional. Music. Vows. Ring exchange. We’re saving our true vows for the reception.
The minster rambles on for too long as I anxiously wait to hear him tell me to kiss my bride. When he finally does, I lean close and cradle her face. “Mo chroí.”
“Mo chroí.”
I press a soft, loving kiss against her lips. Nothing too passionate. I’m saving that for later when we’re alone.
“I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Kieran Bryce Hendry.”
A large white tent stands in the backyard of our compound. It covers tables adorned in white cloth with glowing candles and huge floral arrangements. Several crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, making this outdoor room feel elegant, courtesy of the event planning done by Isobel and my mother… and overseen by Torrie. Which means Isobel and my mum did all of the work.
My father has Westlyn and I join him on a raised platform in front of all of the guests—members of The Syndicate, The Fellowship, and The Order. There are hundreds of people in attendance. “We gather here tonight to celebrate the marriage of my eldest son, Kieran Bryce Hendry of The Order, formerly of The Syndicate, to Westlyn Leigh Breckenridge Hendry of The Fellowship. We are also celebrating the inception of Westlyn into The Order as one of our own.”
My wife and I approach the small table adorned to match the larger tables throughout with one exception—a dagger. The bleeding ceremony is traditional. It can’t be skipped, but I’ve dreaded doing this—slicing Westlyn’s skin so we can bleed together.
“Kieran Bryce Hendry, do you accept responsibility for Westlyn Leigh Breckenridge Hendry?”
“I do.”
“Take the dagger.”
I lift it as my father instructs and take Westlyn’s hand in mine. “Don’t watch. Close your eyes.”
“I think it’ll be worse if I don’t watch.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “Yes,” she whispers. My lass is so strong. So brave.
I drag the blade across the center of her palm as lightly as I can to bring blood. I pierce my own and lace our fingers together so we’re palm to palm. Blood, mostly mine, runs the length of our forearms, saturating our sleeves.
“Your wife is also your novice to teach and guide in the ways of our brotherhood. Do you accept responsibility for her?”
“Aye.” I squeeze her hand, my eyes locked on hers. “I do.”
“Repeat after me, Westlyn.” My father states The Order decree, which they adopted from The Syndicate. It’s something I’ve heard my entire life. “Do you swear to keep these vows?”
“I do.”
I bring her hand to my mouth. “Your blood is my blood, as mine is now yours. From this day forward, we are one.”
Westlyn is my wife. We’ve shared blood, and she’s been incepted into The Order. She carries a piece of me inside her… our firstborn. One of many to come. It all gives me a fierce satisfaction. It isn’t possible for her to belong to me more than she does now, yet I want to possess more of her.
Hold her. Stroke her silky skin. Feel her shudder with pleasure while my cock slides in and out of her.
I will do every one of those things later tonight when we’re at home.
Westlyn is wearing an ivory satin and lace gown fitting for a virgin on her wedding night. But my wife is no virgin, and she sure doesn’t expect or want to be treated like one. The pregnancy hormones have made her insatiable the last few weeks.
One look at her in that satin and my cock is hard, throbbing with the need to be inside her. The closer she comes to where I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, the more I ache in my balls. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than today.”
“And I’ve never seen you look sexier.” My bride parts my legs and stands between them. She pushes my kilt up my thighs, her fingertips skimming through the bristly hairs on my legs. “The kilt is a nice change from the suit. Thank you for leaving it on.”
“Anything to make my wife happy.”
I pull up her gown and slowly slide my hand up the inside of her leg, feeling her thigh muscles quiver with tension. My fingers brush against her pussy, parting the soft lips, and I push the tip of my middle finger into her tight opening, using my thumb to massage her clit at the same time.
She bites her bottom lip and moans. “Mmm…”
“You like that, don’t you, doll?”
She lifts one knee and rests it on the bed, giving me full access between her parted legs. “Mmm… hmm. Everything down there is so super sensitive lately. Feels so much more intense.”
My finger smoothly glides in and out of her warm, slick hole. She rocks her hips against my finger, and a choked cry comes from her throat. “More?”
“Yes.”
I insert another finger and fuck her with the pair, my thumb still rubbing her clit in a circular motion. My thrusts become harder, and she grips my thighs for balance. Reminds me of that first night together in the back of the limo when she was on her knees and had to use my legs to balance herself during the car ride.
Her head falls back, her eyes close, and her mouth parts. The pattern of her breathing instantly changes from calm and quiet to fast and labored. “Ohh… Kieran.”
Fuck, I love hearing my name on her lips, but I especially love when it comes out as part of a breathless moan.
Her entire body tenses, and her fingers dig into the flesh on my thighs, painfully so. She cries out my name as her inner walls squeeze my fingers in release, the gripping motion making my dick throb to be inside her.
I revel in watching her come apart in my arms. I love that I’m able to do this to her. And I love that I’m the only man who’s ever brought her to this kind of pleasure.
I grip the satin fabric and pull upward, tossing her gown to the floor. We’re both bare, with the exception of my kilt. But it’s staying on per my wife’s request.
I slide my hands under her bum and pick her up as I rise to my feet, simultaneously flipping and lowering our bodies to the bed so that I’m topping her. But I ignore my aching cock and what he wants. This is our wedding night. I want this to be a night she never forgets; therefore, I am not finished bringing her pleasure.
I move down and begin with small kisses on the insides of her thighs, moving up until I reach my goal: her wet pussy—pink, swollen, and glistening from the orgasm I just gave her. “What are you doing?”
I always make sure she comes first, unless she wants to blow me, but then I move on to pleasing myself. I never give her two orgasms ahead of my own. “I’m going to make you come again.”
“I don’t think I can do it back-to-back like that.”
“How do you know? I’ve never tried.” I spread her folds apart with my fingers. “Relax. Let me do what I do best.”
She spreads her legs farther apart and rocks her hips when I flick my tongue over her clit. Her hand moves to the top of my head, and she laces her fingers into my hair, lightly scratching my scalp with her freshly manicured nails. “You are so good at this.”
I stop and swallow. “I know.”
I push my tongue inside, tongue fucking her as deeply as I can, and tasting her recent orgasm. I savor every drop. I delight in every gasp and moan that comes from her lips as my tongue massages the bundle of sexual nerves in the roof of her pussy—that ultra-sensitive spot that evokes her strongest orgasms.
“Ohh… Kieran. I’m going to come again.”
I knew I could fucking do it, but I didn’t know I could do it that fast.
She trembles, her thighs quivering with ecstasy, and my mouth is flooded with her sweet juice. “Oh, fuck, Kieran…” She bucks her hips from the bed and grinds her pussy against my tongue.
I crawl up her body after she goes limp and releases my hair. I stop briefly to press kisses to her belly and then continue up her body until we’re face-to-face. Heart-to-heart. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and I feel her breasts pushing against my chest, her nipples like hard little pebbles.
I press a kiss to her mouth. “Mo chroí.”
She smiles. “Mo chroí.”
Her sweet smile. Her precious words. Both make my cock throb harder, begging for his release. My self-control tank is drained.
Fuck, I have to have her. Now.
I use my knees to push her legs apart and press the head of my cock against her drenched center, slowly sliding into her until I’m balls deep. “Ohh… fuck…”
Her wet flesh welcomes my cock and accommodates it. No matter how many times I take her, I’m always amazed by how tight she is. The way her body squeezes mine makes my spine tingle and my balls draw up against my body.