It didn’t matter to me if we got married in pajamas, bathing suits, or formal wear. I just wanted to get the ceremony over with. When Evie met me with protests about rushing through it, I gave in. There was something she had packed that she wanted to wear. She was angry I even suggested she marry me in a pair of jeans. She mumbled something about a bad prom memory and I let it go.

She was upstairs in the bridal suite changing. I paced in front of the fireplace in the small study, drinking another glass of champagne. There was no reason for us to use the mini-ballroom. We agreed the study would work for the ceremony.

I checked my watch again. How long did it take for her to change into something else? It wasn’t like this meant anything. It was a check in a legal box. The sooner the minister said I do, the sooner we could make the heir that would give me my fortune. There was no reason for her to go through a lot of trouble.

I stared at the flames in the fireplace. The logs popped and crackled. If I was going to talk myself out of this, now was my last chance to walk away. Once I married Evie, it was forever. Divorce made the contract null and void. I’d lose everything.

And who would I be then? An ex-billionaire. I balled my hand into a fist. That wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t fail. And I wouldn’t fail at this marriage.

This was a smart move. I was marrying a smart girl. She was beautiful and sexy. And she didn’t want anything from me other than the baby. It was as close as I could get to finding the perfect business partner.

I turned my head as I heard her heels on the hardwood behind me. The innkeeper drew the doors open and Evie floated toward me. Holy fuck.

She wasn’t supposed to look like that. She wasn’t supposed to look like an angel. Like a goddess. A dangerous combination of sweet and sexy. Her stride was slow and graceful. She had touched up her makeup and her skin glowed. Her hair was pulled to the side and cascaded down her shoulder, held in place with a rhinestone clip. The seriousness of the ceremony suddenly punched me in the stomach. Evie didn’t look like a woman playing dress up. She looked like a bride. My bride.

“Evie,” I growled.

“You like it?” She lowered her long lashes. “If this is the only time I ever do this, I wanted to wear white. Once.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I get it.” I felt bad for trying to talk her into doing this in jeans and riding boots. She was an exquisite bride.

If it hadn’t been for the minister, I would have told her every dirty thought in my mind. How I wanted to lay her down in front of the fire, push that white mini-dress up to her hips and drink every drop of her until she screamed my name. Then I’d bury myself inside her. I’d rip the crystal beads from her breasts and suck her tits. I’d flip her over and take her from behind. The way we both liked it. But that would have to wait until after the ceremony. I tried to settle my cock. Calm it down before she realized how hard a simple white cocktail dress had made me. How she had flipped this ceremony upside down for me.

The minister yawned. “Shall we get started?”

“Wait, wait,” Jan Hughes was next to us. She was the elopement coordinator as well as our only witness. Right now, she was also the acting wedding photographer. She claimed to be a jack of all trades. It was necessary in her line of work.

“I need a shot of this. When the groom first sees the bride is a special moment.” She held up the camera and moved the lens until she was happy with the focus. “Beautiful. Ok. Go ahead.”

Evie stood across from me. Her eyes sparkled. She held a small bouquet of white roses. Jan had given them to her when we arrived. She had pinned a single rose to my jacket.

“I have to say I’ve only performed a few weddings this early in the morning.” The minister lit a few tapered candles on the mantle. It was now 2:30.

“It’s fine, Randy,” Jan hushed him. “We do elopements.” She looked at me. “This is exactly what we do.”

“I’m only mentioning the time,” he argued.

I had paid extra for them to accommodate us. Jan was eager to take the money.

I knew that Randy was talking, but I wasn’t listening to his stories about a couple of teens who eloped. The woman in front of me was gorgeous, and she was about to become my wife. Not in the true sense, but no matter what happened, I’d be linked to Evie the rest of my life. She could live wherever she wanted. Do whatever she wanted. Live out her career dreams. Raise the kid however she liked.

But tonight, we would be tied together forever. It might have started in the tiny corner booth at Bella’s, but it was becoming real now as we exchanged vows in the Magnolia Inn.

They weren’t vows about love, or even about friendship. We had chosen the non-religious, least romantic package in the binder. Keeping it simple and legal was the goal. There was no reason to complicate our arrangement.

We repeated the words Randy spoke.

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister announced after we both pledged to uphold the bond of our marriage.

I heard Jan snap more pictures.

Finally, I could pretend there wasn’t anyone else in the room. The minister had given me permission to kiss my wife. When he saw the way I kissed Evie, he probably wished he hadn’t.

My arms wrapped around her and I crashed my lips into hers. She purred as I kissed the corners of her mouth and my tongue danced against hers.

The minister cleared his throat. “Congratulations. A long and happy union to you.”

“Congratulations, you two.” Jan was somewhere next to him.

I tangled my hands in Evie’s hair. She tasted like cinnamon and champagne. I could get drunk again off her lips. Fuck. I needed to take her to the bridal suite now.

She slowly pushed against my chest. “Thank you,” she murmured to Randy and Jan as they left the room.

We had a moment alone. “We did it,” she whispered. “We’re married.”

“We are.”

I crushed her lips. My hand gripped her ass, dragging her body against mine. Her hips pushed into me.

“Upstairs, now,” I growled.

She nodded. The minister had pulled the doors closed. For a second I thought about playing out my fantasy with Evie in front of the fire, but every bride deserved a honeymoon suite. Something she had said resonated with me. If this was the only time she was going to do it, she wanted to wear white. Maybe she wanted the other cliché traditions brides experienced. I could at least give her a wedding night she’d never forget.

The Magnolia Inn wasn’t a five-star resort, but it was quaint. There was a four-poster king upstairs. I had a lot of ideas for my wife tonight.

I locked her fingers through mine and pulled her behind me. Mrs. Hughes met us at the bottom of the winding staircase.

“It was a beautiful ceremony. I like the intimate ones,” Jan added. “They are truly special to witness.”

“Thank you.” Evie giggled.

“The suite has been prepared for you. “There is champagne and strawberries. All the extra touches you requested, Mr. Hartwell, have been added. Let us know if you need anything.” She smiled as we climbed to the second floor.

Evie glanced down at me. “What extra touches?”

I shrugged. “You’ll see.”

The room was at the end of the hall. The door was cracked. I could see the flicker of candles, and there were a few flower petals trailing into the hallway. It came with the package. It wasn’t like we needed any of those things, but I had never been a cheap bastard. I threw in every last option Jan gave me.

“Wait,” I ordered Evie. I scooped her in my arms. She squealed.

I kicked the door open and slammed it behind us.

“We might not do anything else traditionally in this marriage, but I can carry my wife over the threshold.”

“I’m your wife,” she whispered. “It sounds so strange.”

“Get used to it. Because you are mine.”

She tipped her lips upward and I seized them. My tongue pushed inside and she purred. I lowered her to the bed.

“Mrs. Hartwell, are you ready for your honeymoon to begin?”

She nodded.

My cock was throbbing. I didn’t know the thought of fucking my wife could make me this hard.

She reached behind her, sliding the zipper down her back. The white dress fell from her shoulders. Her tits bobbed free. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I licked my lips. Was that even something brides did?

“All of it,” I demanded. I wanted to see the rest of her. Bella’s seemed too long ago. I was anxious.

She shimmied out of the dress and it landed on the floor. Her palms slid between her hips and her white panties. Her eyes met mine as she rolled them down her thighs and off her ankles in a slow easy movement. Like she had planned this striptease for a while. The panties piled on top of the dress.

I was out of my jacket, shirt, and pants in seconds. I didn’t know what turned me on the most in this scenario. The fact that I was getting ready to fuck my wife, or the fact that I was going to fill her with my come—on purpose. I wanted to knock her up. For the first time in my life, it was something I was trying to make happen, rather than avoid like a case of the flu. The thought of getting Evie pregnant was an instant turn-on. It was her bargaining chip. I knew that, but it was fucking sexy to know I had a mission.

I crawled toward her.

“Mrs. Hartwell,” I growled into her ear.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“I just like saying it. Calling you my wife when I fuck you.”

She shivered. “Keep saying it.” Her voice was raspy.

I reached between her legs. She moaned when I touched her clit. My fingers slid between her velvety lips, feeling how soaking wet she was. Eager. Hot. Needy for my cock.

I pumped my fingers inside her while she panted.

“That’s it,” I coaxed. “How many times can I make my wife come?”

“As many as you want,” she answered.

I laughed. “That’s right. I think the entire honeymoon for starters.”

I kissed her shoulder and made a path to her tit. God, she had perfect tits. I took one in my mouth, sucking it deep until she cried out.

“Too much?”

“No. It feels good.”

My fingers were slick with her. I roamed over her clit and she groaned, bucking her hips.

“No condoms,” I reminded her. It was instinct to grab one. I should be ripping into a foil packet right about now, but I wasn’t.

“That’s the deal.” Her eyes opened. “I want you to give me a baby, Jer.”

They were words that scared the shit out of me. I’d never let a woman who wanted a baby inside my door, let alone in my bed. But with Evie panting and wet underneath me, all I could think about was how I would fill her with my seed. That I’d fuck her every day until she had my baby. It should have terrified me, but I couldn’t wait to do it.

My solid cock bounced between her legs. She started to take short gasps for air and I knew her first climax was near. I pushed the tip of my cock to her swollen pussy. Her nails dug into my shoulders as I began to slice into her, with nothing between us. Shit. It felt good to fuck without a condom. Skin on skin.

“Oh yes,” she cried. “Oh fuck me, I’m coming like this.”

I grinned. I could feel her orgasm clinging to my dick as I thrust inside her. Fuck. She was hot. Sexy. And mine.

I began to fuck slowly as she rode the orgasm, but a switch flipped in Evie. Something primal. Something incredible.

Her hips moved like she was a belly dancer warming up for a performance. Where did she learn that trick?

I sucked harder on her tit, releasing it from my mouth before moving to the other side.

“Oh Jer,” she purred. Her hips were hypnotic.

“I’ve gotta see you do this from behind, baby.”

I rolled, flipping her on her stomach. I slapped her creamy ass. She wiggled backward, ready for me. I pressed my dick to her entrance and with a roaring slam I was inside her. The heat was blinding. We both groaned with pleasure.

“Show me,” I growled.

She grinned like a she-devil, and her hips began to rotate. In and out, side to side and back and again. Fuck. I’d never seen anything like it. The spasm in my spine started. No. No fucking way was I going to come this soon.

I reached between her legs, tugging on her clit. She moaned, throwing her head back. I had her. Another orgasm in my hands. I twisted lightly, while my cock was buried inside her.

“Oh shit. I can’t. I can’t,” she whimpered.

“Oh you can, baby. Scream.”

She shook her head. “I’ll wake. Every. One. Up.” She bucked wildly as I spread her legs wider, angling my shaft deeper.

“Wake them up,” I commanded. “Let them hear how I make my wife come.” Shit. I was getting off on this wife stuff. It was hotter than dirty talk.

“Jer,” she wailed.

I had pressed a finger to her sweet rosebud. My one hand clutched her clit and the other was filling her in a new way. I didn’t have to wonder for long how much backdoor experience she had. It was obvious she had none. God, I had married a backdoor virgin. Fuck me. As soon as I even began to breach that special spot, she came hard, screaming like a wild banshee. Her hands landed on the headboard. She held on for sanity while I fucked her from behind, creating one orgasm after another.

I pushed my finger all the way in and she hissed, eyeing me over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Her breath was ragged. “How did you know—”

I cut her off. “I’m just making you feel good. Want me to stop?” I teased, knowing she loved it. She was so tight, but eager to stretch and learn. Her body yearned for it.

She shook her head. “No, don’t stop. It feels fucking amazing. I’ve just never—”

“Then let me be the first to christen my wife.” I winked.

She threw her hips back and I felt my spine tense again. I was a man lost this time. I slid my hand to her waist, digging my fingers into her soft skin. I couldn’t stop myself from climaxing. I pounded my cock into her, wanting to give her everything I had. I wanted to fill her. Soak her. I slid my finger in an out of her sweet virgin asshole as quickly as my cock moved in and out of her pussy.

“Oh fuck, Evie,” I rasped, slicing harder and faster.

I thought I saw stars, or maybe it was the gates to paradise. I didn’t know. Only that my body spiraled and shook. I breathed her name over and over until I had exploded every last drop of come I had inside her.

I didn’t want to move. My cock was happy right where it was—inside my wife.

Instead, I pulled her to me, lowering us both to the bed, so that our bodies were locked together in the sweaty aftermath of sex.

I kissed her neck. “Think you’ll remember your wedding night?”

She giggled. It was the sound of music. “Do you think you will, or are you worried we’re still too drunk?”

“Oh we’re definitely still drunk.” I ran my hand over her hip. “Drunk, married, and happily fucked.” I laughed. It sounded absurd. In less than twenty-fours I had altered the course of my life. It felt good.

“And tomorrow?” she asked.

I closed my eyes. “Tomorrow we deal with tomorrow.”