I woke up sharply, breathing in sucking gulps of air. Brynne. I hated that the first thought in my mind was what I might have done in my sleep, and what her reaction would be to it this time. Had I shouted out angry things that frightened her? Thrashed around in the bed, disturbing her sleep? Tried to fuck her like a madman as a way to bring me down?
My fears were very real. I knew they were real because I’d done all of those things before in front of her.
I dared a glance over at her lying next to me, trying to slow my racing heart. There she was, on her side in all her naked glory, hair spilling wildly over the pillows, and smelling of the floral perfume she used, combined with the unmistakable essence of sex and cum. Her chin tilted in my direction as if she was breathing me in. Peacefully asleep.
Thank motherfucking hell.
Disaster averted. Again. I didn’t remember anything about what I’d dreamt, but the sharp waking did happen from time to time, and I fucking hated it almost as much as the dreams I sometimes did remember.
I turned onto my side, facing toward Brynne and revelled in the gorgeous view she made for me. I loved to watch her sleeping after we’d fucked each other senseless. And I had most surely enjoyed every pounding, orgasmic second of the fucking we’d done on our wedding night. The urge to get up and step out for a smoke tickled my brain, but I told myself that it was just my brain wanting the nicotine my addiction of choice delivered. My body sure didn’t need it, and neither did my wife and child.
My wife was beautiful when she slept. She was beautiful all the time, even though she didn’t flaunt her beauty like other women I’d known. Brynne was different from every single one of them. A subdued type of beauty. Not flashy to bring attention to herself, but naturally beautiful, drawing interest without any effort at all. I had known it the instant I’d seen her at the Andersen Gallery that night for the show where I bought her portrait. My mind knew she was special before my body did. Now, I held onto the first glimpse of her in my head. It was a defining moment in my life. The place where I returned to when I needed the leveling down from the demonic tortures living in my subconscious. I’d just remember that night when our eyes met across the room. It was a very safe place to go to in my mind when I needed to.
Just watching her right now was enough to make me want her again, but it was the knowing that she now belonged to me totally, both emotionally and legally, that really did it for me.
I knew some would say I was completely pussywhipped for marrying off so fast and knocking her up, but I didn’t care what anyone thought. If the term fit me, well then, it was exactly what I needed to be, because my life before Brynne sure hadn’t been working for me. At least with her by my side, I felt like I had some small chance of being normal…
THE second time I woke, I knew it was morning, and I knew somebody else was awake too. I knew this because she was stroking my cock with her hand and flicking her hot tongue over my nipples. “Good morning to you,” I sighed in contentment.
She picked her head up and grinned at me. “Morning, husband.”
“I love the sound of that, baby. And I love how you’re waking me up on our first morning as man and wife.” I thrust my hips toward her hand to create more friction.
“I’m just getting started on you though. You had last night to be in charge. Now it’s my turn,” she said.
“Well, I am one fucking lucky bastard then.” I dragged her fully on top of me so I could have her mouth, and kissed her thoroughly. After a moment, I pulled back and held her face, searching for any signs of trouble. “Everything all right, my beauty?” I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t gone overboard with her the night before. I did worry about fucking too roughly, especially now that she was pregnant. I knew we’d have to tone it down as she got closer to the end of the pregnancy, but Dr. B had assured me, that for now at least, everything was on the table.
“Yes. Very much perfect I think.” She smiled at me, her eyes sparking a beautiful golden brown.
“Last night…was so amazing.” I kissed her again. “You were completely amazing.”
She got that shy little blush that happened when she thought about some of the really filthy stuff we did in bed. It made me just that much hotter for her. She allowed me to have her how I wished to and trusted me to treat her right. Her trust in me brought me to my knees, and I would never take that for granted. “So were you.” She stroked my length with a firm grip, pulling it into a little twist at the bell-end that got me painfully hard.
“…feels so fucking good,” I grit out.
“I know,” she said mischievously, and then scrambled down to take me in her mouth.
“Ahh…fuck yes! Yes, that’s it…” I lost the ability to form words so I just shut up and took what she gave to me so generously.
Brynne knew how to suck my cock to perfection. She had all the moves down. The long drawing pulls that brought me to the back of her throat, down to the licks around the vein that fed it, to the squeezing of my balls at just the moment I needed to feel the pressure.
I let her work her magic, threw my head back and allowed her to take charge of my pleasure.
For a little while.
Until I was driven to make the switch and take control of things.
She was working me over skillfully, her wet, warm mouth sucking me deep into her throat when I felt my cock swell and my balls tighten. I wanted to be buried inside her sweet cunt when I came this morning, I decided.
So I pulled her off and up my body to straddle me. I lifted her quickly and found my target. She understood what I wanted without me asking and guided my cock home, bearing down to swallow me all the way to the root.
Beautiful. Fucking. Perfection.
She cried out at my invasion, throwing her head backward, making her hair fall behind her, arching her spine so I could get a really good view of my cock piercing her cunt over and over as we fucked as if our lives depended on it.
She knew. She knew exactly what I liked and how I liked it. My perfect sexual goddess.
As she rode my cock, she made sounds that were so fueled with sex it only served to push me harder. Gripping her hips, I worked her wickedly fast until the little cries she made changed their tone, flattening out in desperation, told me she was very close to coming.
“Look at me, baby. Give me those beautiful eyes of yours when you come all over my cock. Let me feel you cream all over me. I want to see your face when it happens.”
What passed between us after that was the stuff that makes memories you’ll never forget. I knew I would never forget how Brynne looked to me in that moment of complete possession—faced flushed with pleasure, nipples budded up tight, quivering above her ribs, hair settling over her shoulders and flowing down, eyes fiery with the look of satisfaction. Absolutely breathtaking.
She brought her head forward and looked down at me. Her smoky brown eyes flared and held onto mine. I felt the convulsions start within her, reflexively gripping around me as she went off. I felt my cock harden and swell, preparing to blow me into oblivion, on such a ride of pleasure, I reacted with hardly a thought of what I’d do to her when the explosion hit. My cock in her cunt, my mouth on her skin, my hands in her hair… Ethan inside Brynne. There was nothing else in existence in that moment.
I don’t know how much time passed, but when I could coherently take stock of the present moment, she was lying on top of me, still holding me within her body, breathing deeply. My mouth was glued to a spot on her neck, sucking softly and soothing with my tongue.
I pulled back and focused. Quite the mark on her elegant neck that I’d just made. It looked like I’d bit her, which I’d done before, and would probably do again. I couldn’t help some of the things I did to her when I lost myself in her. Thankfully, she never seemed to be bothered at all by the marks I made on her skin. I always felt guilty for losing control with her though, but realized the capability for it to happen was unique to her specifically. Brynne was my only experience with losing control like that during sex. She was the only one who had ever brought me to such a level of soul-baring exposure. She was the only person I trusted enough to even dare to take a step toward that place.
“I’ve given you one huge love bite this time, baby. I’m so sorry for marking—”
“—I don’t care, you know that,” she cut me off, lifting her head up to me.
“You might care this time,” I hedged, “because we have to go down to the big house and greet all those overnight guests that stayed at Hannah and Freddy’s.” I brushed my thumb over the sucking bruise that bloomed between the base of her neck and her ear, wondering what she would really say when she got a good look at it. “I’m a beast, what can I say?”
“You’re my lovely beast and I’m sure whatever you branded on me is fine. I’ll just cover it over with my hair.” She laid her head back down and nestled against me with a sexy yawn.
“Somebody is sleepy.”
“Well, yeah, that happens when you don’t spend much time actually sleeping the previous night,” she returned without a pause, bringing a hand to my ribs like she was going to go for another tickle.
I took her hand in one of mine and neutralized her potential attack, grabbing a lovely handful of her prized arse with my other, and squeezed. The feel of her soft curves in my hands made everything feel right with the world. “But we should probably get moving, baby,” I reminded gently, annoyed that we couldn’t just stay here in bed together and sleep for a few more hours.
“Now wait a minute, am I hearing you correctly? Whose idea was this wedding weekend extravaganza with a morning-after breakfast anyway, because I sure as hell know it wasn’t mine.”
She had a point. Our wedding had been much more of an event than either of us would have preferred, but when the plans were put into motion, the reasoning behind everything was very valid. As the ideas were laid down, I’d wanted as much exposure for her as possible; the higher profile the celebrity of a society wedding would bring, the better the insulation at protecting Brynne from her stalker. At the time none of us had known he was a rogue crazy named Karl Westman. I’d feared much higher levels were involved…and they were on the clean-up end. Of that I was certain. Westman had been taken down by US Secret Service. Threat eliminated and extinguished…by expert professionals who could make a person just disappear if they want to.
By the time Westman was out of the picture, our wedding plans were already deep in motion, and press releases gone out to the gossips rags. Too late to call any of it back, or change the guest lists, so we’d just gone along with what had been originally scheduled. Big wedding, numerous parties, weekend guests, a noisy send-off to our luxurious Italian honeymoon—all carefully constructed to publicize Brynne’s status as the wife of elite security, connected at the deepest levels to the British government.
And apparently, the trend of inviting select members to stay overnight to wish the happy couple off the morning after, was the “in thing” at the moment. I suppressed the urge to scoff at the idea. I couldn’t wait to get away with her. Just us. Alone in our own little world where everything was safe and peaceful and we could catch a breath.
I smiled at her and kissed her on the tip of the nose. “It was mine, my beauty. Blame me.”
She tilted her head up and cracked an eye open. “Blame you for the fact I’m sleepy due to a very busy wedding night, or the big hectic wedding neither of us wanted?”
I laughed at her logic. “Both. Guilty on all counts, Mrs. Blackstone.”
“Okay, so your punishment is getting the shower ready and carrying me in, because I don’t think I am capable of walking just yet. You know what your orgasms do to me.”
I did know very well. She usually fell asleep for a few minutes. “I don’t know if I can either after that epic shag, but I’ll give it my very best.” I carefully rolled her off me and hauled myself up to sit at the side of the bed. “More than just a little motivated here, baby. My plan is to whisk you away where I can keep you all to myself.” I picked up my mobile from the bedside table and checked the time. “And to make that happen, I have exactly five hours to get you on a plane with me bound for the Italian coast. If I must have breakfast with a slew of people in order to get us the hell out of here, then so be it, but know this…if I could manage it, we would’ve already snuck away and been long gone by now.”
Brynne’s only response was to observe me from the bed as I left to go get the water started for our shower, and she hadn’t moved at all by the time I’d returned; just lying there tangled in the sheets, looking soft and flushed from shuddering in my arms only moments before. So beautiful to me, I had nothing else to compare her against. Brynne was the definition of beauty when she looked like this after I’d just had her.
Her eyes drew over my body, seeing and evaluating as she often did when I was naked. My girl liked a little leer when the opportunity presented. And if we hadn’t just shagged to within an inch of our lives, my damn cock would’ve been standing at attention begging right now, with the way her eyes were on me. Brynne could express so much without ever saying a single word. How in the hell she managed to be so off-the-charts fucking sexy by just giving me a look, I will never know. I was just the lucky bastard who reaped the benefits, I suppose.
We stared at each other, neither willing to look away, when she gave up one of her barely-there, signature smiles. The kind of smile that shows just the hint of gladness, but with Brynne, it tells me she is happily content with sunny skies in our immediate future.
“You are absolutely adorable right now, Mr. Blackstone.”
I shook my head at her. “I can think of few other words to describe me at the moment, baby, and adorable is definitely not among them.” Barking mad maybe, but no fucking way “adorable” fits the bill.
“But to me you are,” she said. “So frustrated at being forced to be social, and having to put on a show for those people, as you call them, who just happen to be our closest friends and family, and only want to wish us well and send us off on our honeymoon in style.”
“I know,” I admitted. “I just don’t want to share you right now…with anybody.” And I didn’t. At least I was honest about it.
Brynne held her arms out to me, and I reached down to pick her up, settling her against my chest, cradling her bum in my hands as she wrapped her legs around my hips. I walked us into the bathroom, kissing her sweet lips the whole way, counting the hours until my wish would be granted.
OF course there were jibes and catcalls when we showed up to Hallborough for the morning-after breakfast-slash brunch. Ethan would’ve had us climb out the window and slip away if he could’ve gotten away with it, but I’d convinced him we didn’t have a choice but to show up. I reminded him how happy it would make everyone to see us this morning, and in the end I’m pretty sure he agreed with me, because I had my methods of persuasion, and felt it was my prerogative to use them if I needed to. But as we walked in to join everyone, the knowing looks on their faces, the inner speculations about what Ethan and I had been doing the night previous was a little too invasive for my tastes. I loathed for people to think private thoughts about me. I understood very well why I had hang-ups with that particular idea; it didn’t change anything for me. I still felt that way.
As I tried to smile and look happy, realizing the people in the room were imagining all the sex I’d just enjoyed with my husband, put me on the defensive. I had to agree with Ethan’s earlier suggestion. The window escape plan sounded pretty damn appealing right about now. He must have sensed my reluctance, because he gave my side a little squeeze and whispered, “Four more hours, my beauty. We’ve got this.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my head and in we went.
Duties to our guests aside, I was very aware of how Hannah had gone over and above in her efforts on our behalf, along with our wedding planner, and the perfectly timed assistance of Elaina, had ensured our gig had gone off without a hitch and I couldn’t be more satisfied with how everything had turned out.
Only one thing was missing. Well, one person…but there was nothing to help me with that one. Love you, Dad.
The formal hall at Hallborough was casually set up with several tables dressed in cream linens, purple flowers, and old silver, that had to be worth a small fortune. The fact that Ethan and I would soon be country neighbors with Hannah and Freddy, and their three beautiful children, was something that made me very happy. Having a family to love and support you meant everything to me. They had done so much for us already. I looked forward to being closer and spending more time together.
So I found myself standing amid all the splendor, with my husband beside me, making the rounds, thanking everyone who’d stayed over at Hallborough to celebrate with us. He looked gorgeous as usual without barely any effort, his damp hair curling at the neck of his thin creamy sweater, paired with faded jeans and buttery-soft loafers in camel. Ethan did casual just as skillfully as he did suits. Mouthwatering.
After our shower, we’d dressed quickly and driven over to greet our guests one last time before taking off. We’d insisted on a very casual and informal gathering this morning, thus our simple outfits of jeans for Ethan, and a white eyelet sundress with leather wedges for me. I ended up wearing my hair down, because he had indeed laid a significant hickey on the side of my neck, and I certainly didn’t feel like sharing it with others the morning after my wedding night. It would only serve to feed more fuel to their imaginings of how I’d earned it. Nope. I was too private for that kind of nonsense. And Ethan’s remorse later over marking me up, after the fact, always struck me as a little surprising too. For a man so dominant during sex, he sure worried about me a lot. I had told him over and over that if he ever went too far, I’d let him know, but I’m not sure he really and truly believed me. Oh, Ethan, what am I going to do with you?
He never took his hands off me the whole time. As we chatted from place to place in the room, he always had an arm tucked around my waist, or a hand at my back. He would press kisses into my hair and brush up and down the side of my bare arm with his hand if we were idle. He just seemed to need it, and for whatever reasons, the idea that he needed to touch me in order to feel comfort, was extremely powerful in my own journey of emotional healing. I felt much loved and very cherished as we made our way around to thank everyone.
Even my mother managed to be happy for us.
“Oh, darling, what a pretty dress you’ve chosen to go away in. I love the cutwork at the hem,” she gushed.
The cutwork at the hem? Seriously? “Ahhh, thanks, Mom. You know me, I like things brutally simple,” I told her as I accepted a hug. It wasn’t lost on me that Ethan and my mother didn’t really acknowledge each other. They had a wary truce of sorts for the moment, both of them intelligent enough to get through the wedding without adding to the drama. Poor Ethan; he’d inherited a monster-in-law, and now had to tolerate her for life.
My mother frowned at my answer, just a tad mind you, but still qualified as a frown by my standards, her unlined face not even hinting to her true age of forty-four. She looked much younger. “But you could wear anything right now, Brynne. You should take advantage of it while you still can.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, my mother realized her mistake and started fidgeting with my hair. She’d managed to bring up my pregnancy, and avoid it like the white elephant in the room that it most definitely was, both at the same time. Bravo, Mom. Why couldn’t she be even a little bit more like my Aunt Marie? Marie didn’t judge, didn’t make me feel like an irresponsible slut for getting pregnant before I was married, and didn’t pretend she wasn’t going to be a grandmother in another six months. “I don’t know why you don’t wear your hair up, darling; it would give just the right touch of elegance to that neckline—”
Mom’s eyes widened. And then she dropped the bun of my hair she’d been arranging like it was radioactive waste. As my hair settled back down around my neck, she shoved Frank forward to give his congratulations. Guess the giant hickey had freaked her shit right out. Was it bad I had to stifle the urge to tell her how good it had felt when Ethan gave it to me?
I wished for a tiny moment I could indulge in one of those mimosas people were drinking with their breakfast.
My stepfather, Frank, kissed me on the cheek and told me I was a beautiful bride. As much as I tried to appreciate his gesture I felt a sudden clawing ache for my own father, who wasn’t here. And whom I’d never see again.
Ethan thanked them both for coming and sensed my need to move on. He was so good with reading me. I felt nothing but relief when we made our way over to Neil and Elaina.
“You’re still walkin’, mate,” Neil teased, delivering a hearty clap to Ethan’s back.
“Indeed I am.” Ethan returned a half hug, half back-slap to his friend and partner.
But Neil wasn’t done with the tongue-in-cheek I was pretty sure. I’d seen these two in action for the last months and they went ’round and ’round all the time. “So, how did he do, Brynne?” Neil asked me, before breaking out in a snickering laugh. “You look absolutely glowing this morning by the way.”
Elaina smacked her fiancé’s arm and told him to shush.
I laughed back and told Neil a lady never tells, before accepting hugs and kisses from our closest friends as a couple. Neil worked with Ethan as partners in Blackstone Security, while Elaina and I had hit it off from nearly day one. They lived right across the hall from us in London and we spent a lot of dinners and down time together.
“In six weeks or so we’ll be doing this again, only then it will be you two that are fielding all the wedding night innuendo comments,” I said to Neil, reminding him that his own special day was right around the corner.
Neil grinned widely and pulled Elaina up against his big body. “I know, and I’m counting the days ’til I can make this one an honest woman.”
“Ha, more like Elaina making an honest man out of you, my friend,” Ethan shot back.
“That’s true, but you’ll finally get to bring Brynne up to Scotland so she can see the place.”
“Trust me, Neil, I would give just about anything to be up there in beautiful Scotland right now, seeing your place and enjoying your post-wedding breakfast,” I told him truthfully.
I looked over at Ethan and we shared a co-conspirator smile, because it had been originally their idea to have the overnight weekend thing in the first place. Neil owned a great estate up in Scotland, and since people were coming all the way up there, they had organized a guest sleepover for their wedding, too. It’d sounded like a nice idea at the time.
“Why’s that?” Neil and Elaina asked together.
“You’ll find out,” Ethan and I answered innocently.
“AND Gaby, is where? I need to say goodbye.” I’d scanned the room repeatedly for my best friend but she was nowhere that I could see.
“That’s a really good question,” Ethan answered. “For that matter, where in the hell is Ivan?”
I shrugged. “Looks like our best man and maid of honor have ditched this party for greener pastures.” I giggled. “Maybe they’re off ditching together. That would be interesting.”
“I know, right? Gabrielle is Ivan’s flavor for sure.”
“I could swear I was picking up on a vibe between them last night when I was with Ben, and we were stalking them as Simon was snapping candid pictures. Do you think your cousin and my friend just might have a little somethin’-somethin’ going on?”
“If they do, Ivan hasn’t said a word to me about it. But, there was that night at the Mallerton Gala when the alarm went off. I always wondered what happened with the two of them, because I saw them both within seconds of each other coming from the same direction, when we were all running out. Like maybe they were together…”
“You never told me that, Ethan.” I shook my head at him in disbelief. “Honestly, you men just don’t tell details very well at all.”
“Well, it wasn’t important at the time, baby. I was a little preoccupied on finding you.” He pulled me against him and kissed me firmly on the lips, making me forget we were in a very public room of people watching us, until the tinkling of silverware on crystal rang out to remind us. I felt my face flush, and heard Ethan groan as we pulled apart, muttering something under his breath about “four more fucking hours.”
“There they are. Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone have arrived finally.” Ethan’s dad, Jonathan, opened his arms and embraced us in a three-way hug. “You did it, my dears. And very well too, I might add.” He kissed me on the cheek and clapped Ethan on the back, meeting him eye to eye, man to man, in a moment of silent communication, which they both understood without a shadow of a doubt.
I could only guess as to what they were both thinking, but I had my theories. They were acknowledging Ethan’s mother as being here with them, for this special occasion along the road of his life’s journey. Jonathan looked up at the ceiling for just a split second, before nodding to Ethan. I saw Ethan return the gesture to his dad, and then I felt a squeeze to my hand from him.
My hand which had remained clasped so very tightly in his because he’d never let go of it.
And so we began our marriage, on a summer’s day in late August, just barely four months after laying our eyes upon one another for the first time. It had all begun across a crowded room one night in the spring—at a gallery tucked away on a London street—when fate had stepped in and forever changed the course of our lives.
