They had a scrumptious lunch, with champagne toasts, and Benedict speaking for Aleksander, and Eirik for Ava.

They fed themselves a piece of the towering kransekake, the typical Norwegian cake for weddings, Christmas, and other important celebrations.

They chatted with guests and took tons of photos, all a part of Olivia’s grand idea of a wedding.

The time for their first dance as a married couple came, and Aleksander’s lips curled at the song Olivia had chosen: Tale as Old as Time.

They danced like that, nice and slow—but not as close as he would have liked—until the song ended.

And then Olivia declared, “Okay, now it’s time to go to sleep. All weddings end with the couple going to sleep, because marriage is exhausting.”

Ava laughed at Olivia’s innocence. Getting wedded was indeed exhausting, but sleep was the last thing newlyweds did when they went to their room.

“You’re absolutely right, Pumpkin,” Aleksander said. “Why don’t you help your grandmother see the rest of the guests out while I take my beautiful wife to bed?”

Ava’s stomach fluttered wildly at his innocently put request, but Olivia smiled.

Olivia kissed and gave Ava a tight hug, repeating it with her father and whispering something in his ear which made him nod fiercely.

“Good night! I’ll see you in the morning.”

Meredith came to stand beside Olivia, eyeing them with a somewhat disapproving look on her face. It was not because she disapproved of Ava marrying her son anymore, but because they had told her they were going to Germany on a honeymoon and taking Olivia with them.

Ignoring his mother, he shifted his arm across Ava’s back and in a fluid motion, he passed his other arm under her knees and swept Ava up into his arms to Olivia’s delightful applauses and catcalls from his friends.

Ava gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. She opened her mouth to tell him to put her down, but all that came out was, “You smell like a dark pine forest, raw and sensual.”

He laughed as he carried her up the stairs and was still smiling when he carried her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut with his heel.

“Finally, just the two of us,” he whispered in her mouth after putting her on the floor. “My wife.”

Ava had thought such a title wouldn’t mean anything to her, but somehow, hearing him say it, her head seemed light, very light as she stared in the eyes of the man she loved. “My husband.”

His mouth took hers in a hot kiss while his hands sought and found the button and the zipper keeping her dress on. He pushed it away so he could find skin, and when he did, it took her even higher.

He breathed on the sugary scent of her, more intoxicating than any champagne. The silken touch of her skin under his fingertips, the heavy weight of her breasts in his palms, the sounds of pleasure in their throats, the slide of lips and tongues slammed into him like a tsunami.

And for now, for this one moment, he wanted to just be swept away. She slid her hands into his hair, and her own need spiked when he lifted her off her feet, off her dress.

As she slid her off her underwear she understood, by the hurry in which he shed his clothes, he was in no mood to dally. And that was in perfect harmony with her own needs.

When he pulled her to him and on the bed, he felt as hot as the sun, and as loaded with primal energy, his every muscle heavy with it, sinews taut and tight. Pressing beneath her, his hands slid down her hips, fingers sinking firm and strong into the softness of her buttocks, and in one single thrust they were one.

“Alek,” she gasped as she felt the thick, steely strength of him invade her, stretch her.

He drew back from their kiss and, straightening his arms, held himself over her. So he could see her—see her in all her glory, totally, wantonly his. Her breasts rocked with his thrusts, the sheen ivory skin delicately flushed, rose-red nipples engorged, erect. Her hands, clutching spasmodically, fingers sinking into his biceps as he plunged deeper and pushed her higher.

Again, he lifted her, tilted her. This time when he rocked, he pressed into her. He pushed deeper still, then slowly withdrew, then returned, more strongly, more forcefully.

Filling her.

And relentlessly, inch by steady inch, claiming her.

She shuddered and held him tight to give herself to him.

Ava opened her body and let him come in, opened her heart and let him take possession of what was already his.

She took him—took him in, scalding him with her wet heat, with the molten furnace of her desire.

He set a fast rhythm—time for slow would come. Later. Soon. Beneath him, she rose to each thrust, her breasts caressing his chest, her thighs cradling his hips, her long legs tangling with his.

Then, lowering his long body to hers, he kissed her deeply, until her head spun and her senses whirled and her whole body trembled.

Ava was caught in the throes of climax, her head thrashed as she clutched blindly at his shoulders. “Aleksander.”

“Easy,” he told her, moving his warm lips against her neck, hovering at the edge of the cliff where passion reigned and pleasure triumphed. “Nice and easy.”

When her moans echoed around him, through him, he flung himself into the realm of satiation.

“Ava.” When he called to her, her body tightened deliciously around his. So he did it again. “Ava.”

He gritted his teeth. The pleasure was keen, slicing through him like a knife. “Ava.”

Words were beyond him after that. He squeezed her bottom in both hands and took her hard and fast, relentless in his race to the peak. And then he came.

He came hard, spending into her, his hips jerking with each wrenching spasm. Sensations more intense than he’d ever experienced consumed him in a conflagration of fiery release.

She watched a panorama of emotions cross his face as he gave himself up to her in a series of short, frenzied thrusts and then flung his head back with a deep grunt.

The feeling passed, like a fever, and when, at the last, he collapsed in her arms, he was beyond words, thought, or deed. The only thing he knew was that she was there to receive him.

She remained so softly pliant beneath him, so welcoming and he was sated so deeply he could not move immediately. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. Kissed her there. He’d never before felt anything quite this intense.

“Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine in a year or two,” he finally whispered in a hoarse voice. “I think it is entirely possible that I have gone to heaven.”

Laughing low, she said, “Your body reacted in a way that is denied to angels.”

He shrugged and rolled to the other side of the bed, bringing her with him.

“I may have neglected to mention this before,” he said, his a voice like thunder rumbling inside her, “but I’m in love with you, and I have a feeling it’s a lifetime thing.”

Ava linked her hands behind his neck, reveling in her closeness to Aleksander and the priceless words he’d just said. “Actually, you did neglect to mention that, Mr. Maximilian.”

He tasted her lips, sending a new thrill careening through her system. “I apologize abjectly.”

“You are forgiven,” Ava whispered, her mouth against his.

Even though you’re guilty of the same oversight? She was no docile woman, only receiving. She gave all, her body and soul. Perhaps a little of her heart. He would have to content himself with that.

He’d gone from famine to feast—no middle ground.

He’d gone from having no one to call his own to having a fantasy here in his arms.

I could win her after tonight. After drawing her into his arms, he buried his face in her hair. Correction, I will win her.