My body nearly shuts down from exhaustion as I push the flat’s door open.
I’ve spent the entire day with the wedding planner, the flowers’ planner, and all the planners.
Seriously, if I knew a wedding would be this hard, I would’ve opted to have a small ceremony. Levi insisted that he wanted our wedding blasted all over the world so everyone knows I’m his — typical Levi.
Dad also wants a suitable wedding for his only daughter. I couldn’t just say no to that.
It’s too late to turn around now. There’s still only a week until the big day. Let’s hope I don’t collapse before then.
Don’t get me wrong, Levi does help. He’s even more enthusiastic about this planning charade than me. However, I’m the one who has to go through endless dress fittings and whatnots. As Mrs Hudson, our planner, keeps saying, ‘the wedding is all about the bride’.
What if this particular bride doesn’t like the spotlight? Well, there’s nothing to do about it.
I’m stuck.
My phone pings. I shuffle my backpack over one shoulder and some groceries and Mrs Hudson’s brochures to retrieve my phone.
A smile breaks on my lips. It’s a text from my best friend.
Daniel: I rock the maid of honour role. Guess who’s going to steal your spotlight, bugger?
He attached the picture we took at the fitting room yesterday. I’m in my wedding dress and he’s in a dashing black tuxedo. He has a smug look all over his face as he fingers his bowtie and wraps his other arm around my shoulder.
God. He’s such a dork.
But seriously, if Dan wasn’t there for me this entire time, I would’ve gone bonkers.
I type with one hand, still shuffling too many stuff.
Astrid: You’re welcome to steal the spotlight any time, bug.
Daniel: You can’t take that back. I’m holding you to it, screenshot and everything.
I’m about to reply when a deep voice cuts through the silence of the house.
“Princess?”
I quickly turn off the phone and slide it into my bag. I don’t want Levi to see the wedding dress yet, no matter how much he pestered me.
It’s not because of that stupid superstition. It’s about something I’ve seen in Mrs Hudson’s collection.
She has a photo album where she captures shots of the grooms when the brides walks towards them. Their expressions are often filled with awe, love, and utter happiness.
I want to see that look on Levi’s face on the wedding day. Hell, this might be the only reason why I’m willingly continuing this entire planning nightmare.
That’s why he needs to see the dress for the first time next week.
I drop my backpack on the leather sofa and abandon the brochures on the counter.
“Where are you?” I ask, tiptoeing down the hallway.
Although we’ve been practically living together for the past year or so, I’ve been spending more time with Dad lately. It’s like I’m telling him goodbye before I move out for good.
Of course, Levi hasn’t been thrilled about that idea. He keeps sending me texts about his empty bed, empty heart, and empty soul.
I’d laugh so hard at those.
Today, I decided to stay the night for the last time until the wedding.
“In here,” he calls, the sound coming from the last room down the hall.
The room Levi has turned into my art studio as soon as he got the flat. Actually, the first thing he chose in this house is the location of my art studio.
But what is he doing there now?
Oh, gosh. Please don’t tell me he saw the painting. He’s not supposed to lay eyes on it until the wedding night.
It’s supposed to be a gift.
I jog down the hall and push the door open. My feet come to a screeching halt as soon as I’m inside.
Levi lies on the sofa, cradling his head. His massive body dwarfs the space.
Oh, and he’s naked.
Completely fucking naked.
For a moment, I’m speechless. My greedy eyes take in his sculpted abs, his muscular thighs, and that delicious V that leads to his semi-erect cock.
I shake myself out of my stupor and focus on his face; his tousled blond hair, his arrogant smirk, and his pale blue eyes.
Damn those blue, blue eyes.
“What are you doing?” I meant to interrogate him, but it comes out in a whisper, barely audible.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He grins, eyes shining. “I’m modelling for you.”
“Modelling for me?”
“I know you’ve been painting me, and taking peeks at my body while you think I’m asleep.”
I gasp. “You saw the painting?”
“No. I’ll wait until you show it to me.”
A breath of relief heaves out of my lungs. Okay, we’re safe. But how the hell did he know I was painting him? More importantly…
“What makes you think it’s a nude?” I narrow my eyes.
He chuckles then, it’s deep and rough and fucking hot. I love it when he chuckles like that.
Unless it’s in front of other women. That, I don’t like.
“You only watch me when I’m sleeping naked. Besides, you’re blushing, princess.”
“I am not. It’s just the heat of the room.”
“The heat of the room, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.”
His laugh echoes after me as I storm in front of my canvas and flop down on the seat.
Despite his dick attitude, I won’t miss the chance of having him model for me. Besides, he’s right, I’ve been working a nude for him.
When I mentioned nudes to Levi a few months ago, he was surprisingly pro the idea as long as he’s the first and last and only nude I’ll ever draw.
Truth is, I’m not interested in other nudes. It takes a lot of intimacy to sketch someone in their initial form, uncovered and raw.
Since our days in Royal Elite School, I’ve been sketching Levi half-naked behind his back. The idea to make a nude portrait of his magnificent body has been running rampant in my head since then. So I thought; what’s better than to give him a nude sketch as a wedding gift?
I’ve been working on this for months, carefully adding one detail at a time. Having him entirely naked in front of me will save me a lot of energy and sneaking around.
I took so many photos of him, it’s stalker-level, but even then, I couldn’t get a few things right.
This is my golden opportunity.
I remove the cover and retrieve my charcoal. In no time, I’m in the zone, sketching along the ridges of his abs, the curve of his neck, the line of his collarbone.
Then I retouch some parts in his muscular arms and the veins in his hands. Those hands that carry me so effortlessly every time. The hands that grab my thighs under the table whenever we’re out, slowly going up and —
I shake my head inwardly.
Focus, Astrid.
I move down to the ridges of his stomach and to the V line leading down to his cock.
A spark of longing hits me out of nowhere. Hell, isnʼt he more erect than when I walked in?
Geez. It’s hard to be professional when all I want to do is put my mouth on him and let him fuck all the stress out of me.
“You’re blushing again, princess.” His gleaming eyes capture mine in a spell, potent and strong.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I grumble, my hand quivering.
“Like what?” He drawls.
“Like you want to… you know.”
“Fuck you? Make you scream with the force of your orgasm?”
A spark of pleasure races down my spine and pools at the bottom of my stomach.
Why do I want that so much?
He jerks up, and I do too, quickly covering the canvas. “What are you doing? Models don’t move.”
“This one does.” His wide strides cut the distance between us in a few seconds.
He wraps his arms around my waist. Our lower halves grind against each other, and I hiss a breath as the hardness of his cock nestles between my shorts.
Why the hell am I even dressed?
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the moment you walked in,” He rasps, breathing me.
Before I can make out what’s happening, he captures my lips in a fervent, hard kiss that steals my breath away.
My arms wind around his neck, uncaring that I’ve got charcoal all over my hands.
Without breaking the kiss, Levi places a hand under my arse and pulls me in his arms. The act is so effortless and natural as he marches out of the studio.
“Aren’t you supposed to model for me?” I ask breathlessly against his mouth.
“Later,” he grunts, his voice husky with arousal. “We can do that later.”
Not that I’m complaining about the turn of events.
He barges into the bedroom — our bedroom — and slams the door shut with his foot.
He puts me on the bed and nearly rips my shorts and T-shirt off. I fumble with the buttons and help him undress me.
In Levi’s fashion, he does rip my underwear, though. The friction of his fingers against my most sensitive part leaves me breathless, aching for more.
I pant, showing him my charcoal-covered hands. “I’m all dirty.”
“Oh, I’m going to make you dirtier, princess,” he grunts against the hollow of my neck before he places an open-mouthed kiss on the curve of my throat.
He doesn’t stop there, though.
As he throws the last piece of clothing covering me — my bra, he sucks on my collarbone and the delicate skin of my breast.
My back arches off the bed, letting the overwhelming sensation sweep me over, capture me in its depths, and unravel me.
“Levi…” I sink my fingers into the small hairs at the back of his neck.
“Fuck, I love the way you say my name.” His mouth wraps around an aching nipple and sucks it inside as his finger twirls the other one. “And I love these tits. They were made for me, weren’t they, princess?”
I groan a ‘yes’. He’s touching my breasts, but I feel his ministrations straight to my core.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he orders in a hoarse voice.
Something about his authoritative tone turns me on even more. I do as I’m told.
“Tighter,” he commands.
I comply even though my thighs tremble.
Levi lifts his head from my breasts and whispers, “I love you.”
Then he’s sheathed inside me, all the way in. I’m so full of him that I don’t think I’ll be empty ever again.
My air fills with his scent, his musk and his fresh breaths. My body, heart and soul jolt with every throughout thrust.
He’s not rough and fast, but he’s not slow either.
It’s the perfect rhythm to send sparks down my belly and all over my body. All my emotions escalate and somehow settle in the space between us.
He’s worshipping me, I realise. That brings happy tears to my eyes.
“Why are you crying?” He wipes the stray tear with the tip of his thumb, a frown settling between his brows.
“I’m just happy.” I place a kiss at his mouth. “So happy.”
“You are?” He grins, his thrusts picking up pace.
I nod as he hits the right spots. When he slides out then slams back in again, I lose it.
All of it.
“I love you,” I pant as the orgasm hits me with a force I’ve never felt before.
As if my words are an aphrodisiac, Levi curses. His abs tighten with the force of his thrusts as he comes inside me with a rough, masculine power.
Our breathing is rugged and rough, pulsing between us.
He pulls me into him and nestles my head at the crook of his shoulder.
The room is full of sex, dopamine, and peace.
So much… peace.
If I knew he’d purge all the stress out of me in such a way, I would’ve spent all the previous days with him.
“Are you feeling better?” He wraps his large palm around my cheek, combing through the sweaty strands, and stroking my jaw.
I stare up at him. “Better about what?”
“You were on the verge of breakdown these past few days.” He watches me intently, putting all his weight into his gaze.
My throat works with a swallow.
“You… knew that?” I murmur in the silence.
“I know everything about you, princess.”
“I thought you were too busy with practice and school.”
“I’m never too busy for you.” He plants a kiss at the top my forehead, soft and tender. “You’ll be my wife, remember? I’ll always know everything about you.”
Wife.
That word fills me with giddiness I haven’t felt since the day of the proposal.
I want to be his wife. I want to wake up to his face every day and steal shots of him so I can sketch them later.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Levi is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
“And you’ll be my husband.” I plant a kiss on his shoulder where I smudged him with charcoal.
“Fuck.” His pale eyes shine with potent possessiveness and affection. “Repeat that.”
“Husband?”
He nods sharply.
“My husband.” I flutter kisses over his neck, jaw, and the curve of his mouth. “My love, my life, and my everything.”
A low growl rips from his throat as he grips my hips and climbs atop of me. “My wife. My everything.”
A week later, he seals that promise with a deep kiss.
