Ian doesn’t have difficulty satisfying me in bed. Yet he’s somehow transcended every moment before this. Is it because he sees me differently? Is it because I’m now the wife of his heart, and he can do whatever he wants to me without fear? Is it because we are one now?
Only we would think that me on my knees, my ankles spread wide open so he can control how he fucks me is romantic.
My hands clutch the pillow and brace themselves for every impact coming behind me. I can tell he’s close. His fingers dig into my hips, bringing them back, hard, making me thrust against him in tune to the movements of his own body. It’s the perfect rhythm, and while I feel myself reach the point of no return, I also feel him stiffen inside me and hear his breath catch in his throat.
“Do it,” I gasp, slamming myself against him. “Take me!”
Ian forces me down, my face eating the pillow as he fucks me so roughly that I can’t help but feel... well, you know how I feel? That this would be the exact kind of wedding night I want. Fuck sweet and slow lovemaking. We can do that when we’re basking in afterglow and congratulating ourselves on reaching the next stage of our lives. This? This is about unleashing every emotion we have for the other person.
He doesn’t grunt. He doesn’t growl. He fucking roars, his cock taking every bit of space I have inside of me and filling it with his essence. Even though I’ve felt it a hundred times before, it’s totally different this time. It’s mine. The moment it leaves his body and enters mine, I am laying claim to it. No other woman can have this. No other person on the face of this earth can understand what it means to be claimed by Ian Mathers... because no other person can say that they are his wife.
This is the sort of intimate thing that only we can share with each other. The best part? He’s not done. His hand relaxes on my shoulder, but he’s still thrusting into me, emptying the last of what he has so I truly understand the raw power lurking inside him at any moment.
Like I need reminder. Still, I won’t ever say no to one. I love feeling him inside me like this. I love him, and I love feeling like his most precious, protected possession. As long as I am in his arms like this, nothing can touch me. No other man can have me. I am his, and he is mine.
We don’t need a piece of paper to believe that.
With a loud sigh of satisfaction Ian finally pulls out of me and collapses to one side. The spreader bar keeps me wide open, and I feel him all over. Inside me. Around me. Probably making him hard again as he strokes himself and watches what came out of his body now come out of me. It’s the most deliciously primal thing we do, and now it means so much more.
“Take a picture,” I quip, wiggling my ass so he’s more entertained. “It will last longer.”
“Now there’s a wedding photo.”
He releases me and pulls me into his arms as we lay side by side in bed. Fatigue washes over me. The good kind. The kind that says we’ve had a great night and now it’s time to reflect and own it. I know it’s corny and trite, but I probably love these moments more than the actual sex or lovemaking. As much as I adore escaping this world and feeling like nothing else matters, I love these tender moments even more. What do I need except the love of my life nuzzling against me and telling me that I’m the greatest person he’s ever known? Those are the moments that stay with you for the rest of your life. I’ll always vaguely remember the sex, but I’ll remember the feelings and the words even more.
Because I love him, and that’s what stays in my soul.
“Not a bad first run as Mrs. Mathers,” he finally says, sighing in self-righteousness. “I think it’s safe to say we could do even better eventually.”
I lightly smack him on the arm. Oh, I want to smack him harder to get my point across, but I’m so lazy right now that all I can manage is the equivalent of a light tap. “Stop. Don’t ruin tonight.”
“Ruin it? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never said it was terrible. Just... there’s always something more to aspire to.”
“God, stop and listen to yourself sometimes.”
I’m laughing. Then he starts laughing. It’s safe to say that half the time we finish having sex and start digging at one another as if that’s what you do. The other half of the time it’s pure romance. The sappy kind that gives you cavities. For some reason I thought tonight would be the latter instead of the former.
“I have listened to myself.” Ian pushes my hair back and lightly fingers my earlobe. “Do you know how many times I’ve told myself that I love you? That I am not entirely sure I could properly live without you again? I mean, I would find a way... but I would be miserable. Absolutely despondent. I barely lasted that one month you temporarily broke up with me.”