My pussy clenched at the promises being made. “You’re such a big talker.”
“I sure hope that wasn’t a challenge,” he said, settling between my thighs. “Because if it was, game on.”
Now that was a game I didn’t mind that he played.
I wrapped my legs around Hudson, ready for him to enter me. But he paused, his tip grazing my opening.
“Hurry.” I tilted my hips up, prodding him. “I want you inside.”
He ran a hand through my hair and laid a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Patience, precious. We have time, and I need to feel you.”
He slid into me then, slowly and with great patience. I cried out at the agonizing sweetness as he filled me and stretched me and buried his cock inside of me. When I thought he couldn’t possibly go any further, he bent my thighs up toward my chest and pushed in more.
Ah, he was throbbing. I could feel him pulse against my walls as he sank deeper, deeper.
“You feel so good, precious.” He pulled out ever so slightly and thrust back in with a circle of his hips. “Rough, gentle—how do you want me?”
“You’re giving me a say?” I blinked up at him.
His lip curled up slightly at the edge. “This time.”
I loved him every way he gave himself to me. The only thing that mattered was that he did. “You decide. I trust you.”
And I did trust him. Maybe not at the level that I could or once did, but we were a work in progress. We had time.
He seemed to like that answer. His eyes melted and his face softened. As he moved inside me, he clasped my hands in his and leaned his forehead against mine. “I love you, Alayna. My precious. My love.”
We danced together, enjoying each other, loving each other as we took each other higher and higher. Pleasing each other in the ways we’d learned in the past and in new ways as well. It wasn’t exactly sweet and it wasn’t exactly rough and it wasn’t exactly frenzied or passionate or gentle even—but it was all of that, rolled together. It was everything. And it was exactly perfect.
Epilogue
April
She’s the most beautiful bride that’s ever graced the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. Hell, she’s the most beautiful bride that’s ever graced the Earth. I can’t keep my eyes off her. Her dress hugs her gorgeous tits and her slim hips then trains out behind her. And the corset style in the back is fuck hot. I can’t wait to undress her later. Though, when I finally get the chance, I have a feeling those ties will be more frustrating than sexy.
Though sometimes the frustration is half the fun.
And it’s necessary. “Without struggle there is no progress,” Alayna loves to tell me. It’s a quote she learned in her counseling that she feels suits us fairly frequently. She’s said it so many times in the last nine months that I was almost surprised it wasn’t embroidered on our wedding napkins.
Honestly, the truth that lies in that simple statement is astounding. Though I am a man of commitment, a man who doesn’t walk away from a challenge, I am the first to admit that the road from our engagement to our wedding was paved with boulders and potholes. Even though she said yes on that day back in August, there were many times I’m sure she was tempted to break it off afterward. Moments when I shut down and forgot how to let her in. Days when I pushed her away because I believed that I could never be worthy of her love.
Then there was the biggest issue of all—trust. I’d shattered every ounce of trust that existed between us, and rebuilding it took time. And therapy. Not just for myself, but for us as a couple. I’d thought working out my own problems was hard. Adding another person to the mix added a whole new dimension of struggle.
There was so much healing to be done, wounds that threatened to never scar over. Embracing Alayna’s obsessive tendencies was natural for me, but I have had to learn how to not overly attach myself to her jealousies and insecurities. It can become enabling and as much as it’s a turn-on to have her need me, I love her all the more when she’s whole on her own. When she’s strong and confident.
My healing has been much more tenuous. Abandoning the game I’d played for a lifetime proved the easiest part. With Alayna in my life, I have no desire to be cruel and heartless like that again. But my inclination to manipulate and master runs deeper. I don’t even recognize when I’m molding a situation to my whims. Alayna, kind and forgiving woman that she is, often doesn’t point out when I’m wielding and dominating. A great deal of the time, she even likes it. But she also doesn’t wish to give too much power to my weaknesses. So she calls me on it more and more, and I in turn attempt to let go. To let things run their natural course.
That has been the most difficult part for me, the hardest component of recovery.
But the progress has been amazing. We wouldn’t be here today if it hadn’t been for the steps we took together to strengthen our relationship. And while I’m sure the struggle isn’t over simply because I’ve slipped a ring on her finger, we know that we’re worth the fight.
She’s worth the fight.
Look what my reward has been? Even without our wedding vows, she’s mine. And I’m hers. Completely and absolutely.
The ceremony was simple—that’s how she wanted it, and her wish is my command. Mirabelle and Liesl and Gwen, who has become a surprisingly good friend to Alayna, stood as her bridesmaids. Their pale pink dresses exactly matched the blossoms on Alayna’s veil and in the garden. How Mirabelle managed that, I’ll never know. I’ll thank her later for her contributions to my wife’s day.
My wife.
I’ll never get tired of saying that—wife. Who would have believed that I’d ever have one of those? I’d never been a man who intended to marry. My mother and father didn’t present a pretty picture of matrimony, and I had no understanding of the concept of romantic love. It took Alayna to teach it to me. She’s been the best teacher possible—patient and forgiving beyond what I deserve.
She hates it when I say that about myself—that I’m undeserving, and I suppose it’s the same way I feel when she talks destructively about her own past. The difference, of course, is that her weaknesses and imperfections didn’t almost destroy us as mine did. There are days it’s hard to live with myself because of the lie that I wrapped her in. She soothes me then, fixing me with her love. “We would never have found each other if it weren’t for your game,” she tells me.
I don’t believe that, though. I would have always found her.
Always. Without a doubt.
It’s not an exaggeration when I say I fell for her at first sight. If anything, I downplay. Not on purpose. The effect she had on me is simply beyond words, and when I attempt to voice it, the true experience becomes abridged and reduced. In all honesty, the woman who stood on that stage left me speechless. Her business ideas were only part of it. They were sound and innovative, but really, there are bright, intelligent up-and-comers around every corner. This went beyond that. I can’t even pinpoint if it was her mannerisms or her pattern of speaking or the shocking depth to her chocolate brown eyes. Whatever it was, there was a definite recognition of her soul by mine. An awareness of something greater that tied us to each other upon first acquaintance. As if some part of me had always known she was out there, had been waiting for her to come and bring me to life.
It took me quite some time to label that as love. At first, I didn’t know what it was. And now that I do, I still hesitate to call it that since the word fails to express the multi-dimensional way I feel for her. But it’s the nearest thing I have, and I say it to her now as often as I can. Then I try to tell her what I really mean by that simple four-letter verb. That not only does my world revolve around her, but she is my world. That she’s not just my reason for breathing, she’s air itself. That she’s the meaning behind every one of my thoughts, every thrum of my pulse, every whisper of my conscience. She’s my entire everything. It’s as simple and as complex as that.