Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
As soon as we’re inside, my new husband pulls me close and kisses the hell out of me. Before we’re out of the church parking lot, his hands are under my dress, tugging down my panties and parting my legs.
He eats me out in the back of the limo, but he doesn’t fuck me because he doesn’t want to completely ruin my hair and makeup.
He doesn’t care about them, but I do, and he cares about making me happy.
I’m tempted to stay in my long bridal gown because I enjoy feeling like his bride, but we stick with the original plan. We meet the photographer to take some more pictures, and then I head back to the church to touch up my hair and makeup and change into my shorter reception dress.
I feel pretty once I’m in it. I took my hair down because I know Marcus won’t be able to keep his hands out of my hair and he’ll just make it messy if I keep it up. Now my hair falls in gentle waves around my bare shoulders. The makeup artist touched up my makeup and made it a little darker for more of an evening look since the reception will stretch into tonight.
The white dress is feminine and pretty, with straps that fall down my shoulders and hang around my arms. It looks like it’s constantly falling off me, which I know Marcus will love. It’s meant to look that way, though. The bodice fits tight so the dress stays up, it nips in at my waist and then flares out gently over my hips. The back of the dress hangs lower than the front. The front is quite short, barely touching my thighs at the highest point.
I had planned to wear tights with it, but I brought thigh-highs as a backup. I feel like looking my sexiest for my husband, so I opted to wear those instead.
I smile at my reflection. I still look like a bride. In fact, I look more like I belong to Marcus in this than I ever could in a traditional bridal gown.
He’s gonna love it.
The thought makes me happy and I’m bursting with joy as I practically skip back out to the car. I didn’t tell Marcus I was changing, so he’s waiting in his tux and his jaw falls open when he sees me.
“Sorry I took so long,” I tease as I climb in.
I mean to land on the seat next to him, but Marcus grabs me before I can and plants me directly on his lap facing him. “You can take however long you want if this is the end result.”
I chuckle, and he dips his head to kiss my cleavage.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
His voice is so reverent, it stabs me right in the heart.
He’s told me I’m beautiful more times in one day than Joey did over the course of our entire relationship.
I feel beautiful with him. More beautiful than I ever felt with anyone else.
I don’t think it has anything to do with the clothes or my hair or the makeup.
I think it’s just… the way he makes me feel.
Cherished.
I slide my fingers through his thick dark hair, using it to gently tug his head up so he’s looking at me. I lock my legs around him and pull myself closer, then I get lost in his kisses.
It’s hard to pull myself away even when the car stops and I know we have to get out. I hate the distance between us even when it’s just to get out of the car.
I think he does, too, because he grabs my hand as soon as we’re out.
I look over at him and smile, giving his hand a squeeze.
I can’t believe I love him, but I do.
“How did I live without you for so long?” I ask, my tone light, but honestly, I kinda mean it.
“No one knows,” he teases, grabbing my waist and tugging me close.
We make our entrance and everyone claps and cheers. Several people give me looks that seem to say, “you have a lot of explaining to do,” but I can’t find it in me to care.
Marcus holds me close for our first dance. It’s not the song I picked out for me and Joey. I didn’t think to change it, but Marcus must have. The whole song is about how great I am and how lucky he is to have me, so clearly he picked it out.
He really is the best man.
“May I cut in?”
When our first dance ended, we didn’t bother leaving the dance floor, but I have no desire to leave it—or my husband—so I glance over at his brother and cheerfully say, “No.”
“Oh,” James says, surprised. “Well. Okay, then.”
Marcus smirks. “We’ll find you after the song is over.” Once his brother is gone, he teases me, “Is my new bride getting sassy?”