ONE YEAR LATER...

Her head fell forward, and the breath left her lungs with a whoosh when Trent drove deeper. Each time with him was a bit overwhelming, the length and breadth of him taking up every millimeter of space, filling her so full it seemed there wasn’t enough room inside her for anything else, not even for air. And she loved every minute of it.

His thighs smacked against the backs of her legs when he bottomed out, and he leaned over her, his belly against her ass, his chest to her back, and his face next to hers.

“Give it to me, Carly.”

When he growled his demand in her ear, she didn’t hesitate. She tossed her head, sending a wave of curls over her back. His fingers sank into the spirals, and, bit by bit, he coiled the length around his hands.

“Love your hair, baby.”

He tugged firmly, not hurting her but in full control. This was always his way when he made love to her. He set the scene, the pace, and the position, and he decided how many times he sent her hurtling past the point of no return with his mouth or his fingers or his beautiful big cock.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, and, at first, all she could see was her face in the mirror. Trent enjoyed taking her from behind but didn’t want to miss seeing her face as he brought her to climax. He often found a mirror and fucked her in front of it—on the bathroom counter, on the floor in front of the antique floor mirror in their bedroom, or, if away from home, planted on top of a vanity like this one.

Right now, she stared into her own half-lidded blue eyes hazy with passion, saw how the rosy blush of her cheeks matched her parted lips, the lower one pink and puffy where she’d caught it between her teeth only minutes ago when he’d driven into her tightness.

“My beautiful wife,” he murmured, low and throaty.

Lifting her gaze to meet his in the mirror, she smiled. Though still brand new with their wedding vows said only hours before, she loved the way ‘wife’ came effortlessly from his lips.

“Is my girl happy?” he asked while beginning to move. He pulled ever so slowly out of her clinging channel. Not so much he lost her though, stopping when he hovered on the brink with only the tip still claiming her. He paused there, for the count of two thudding heartbeats before, with the same unhurried control, he reversed direction and sank slowly back inside.

She moaned at the stretching sensation. Even after a year, his size still took her breath away. “Your girl is ecstatic, husband.”

His fingers curled into the pliant flesh at her hips, when he began the next slow in-and-out glide. “It’s hard to believe a year ago, tonight, I had your sweet ass bent over a different table, claiming you as mine.”

“A wonderful memory we’ve recreated on that same table many times before. Well...almost.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “We rarely stop with only you getting off anymore.”

After lingering at the entrance, his thumbs parting her folds, his head dipped forward to watch. He repeated the measured, deliberate penetration, but, this time, his return was the faster and contained a touch more force.

She whimpered, wanting it all at once: faster, deeper, harder, and she wanted it now. But Trent loved drawing it out, taking her to the brink and keeping her there, sometimes for hours, and his control was phenomenal.

“And we’ve expanded your horizons beyond missionary. Good thing I came along when I did, Carly.”

“I gave you 101 Sexual Positions You’ve Gotta Try as a little joke for your birthday, Trent. Not a challenge.” The last word came out with a groan, as he timed it perfectly with a deep stroke.

“You gave me the book because you wanted to try every single one. Admit it. What number are we up to now?”

“Fifty-three,” she replied, the words broken and turning breathless as he glided through her slickness.

“Hmm, not bad at all, considering my birthday was in November.”

His hands shifted, spreading her cheeks. He slipped a thumb between them, gathering wetness from around where their bodies joined. Next, it moved upward through her cleft until it came to rest on the untested hole in the back. Oh, she’d had his thumb there before, his fingers, and some surprisingly pleasurable buzzing toys, but never his generously proportioned cock. He’d hinted for some time of taking her anal virginity on their wedding night, and from the way it had captured his attention, it seemed he might very well conquer this last remaining bastion tonight. 

He pressed inward inserting only the tip. “Are you ready for the next chapter, baby?”

Unable to deny the thrill of excitement racing through her, she let out a breathy sigh along with her answer. “Read on, sir.”

Humming in approval, he increased the pressure, his thumb dipping further into her tightness. It felt incredibly naughty, but also exhilarating, especially with the steady in and out glide of his cock in her pussy.

“Mm, that’s my good girl, always eager to play.”

“Not always good, what with Monica adding a Fifty Shades of Grey section at the store.”

“And you had to step up and volunteer us for product testing.”

“Our customers deserve only the best you know.”

His low chuckle accompanied more exquisite pressure as he sank up to the first knuckle.

“No one knows, Trent. Monica had the idea, but didn’t have time, and...well...you know the rest. But I’d die of mortification if anyone found out I select everything we sell.”

“Do they think the sex toy catalog on your desk, open to a rather extensive array of butt plugs in all lengths and sizes, belongs to your boss?”

“No one was supposed to see that, especially you,” she whispered.

“Your secret is safe with me, baby.” The promise came with his thumb embedding up to the second knuckle. The rest of his hand splayed up over her behind, his fingers reaching the small of her back, as finally, he began to move faster.

“Yes, Trent, mmm,” she groaned. “It feels so good.”

“You should feel it from my end,” he growled, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin growing louder.

Despite the mounting pleasure, she laughed, finding his remark incredibly funny. “We get requests from fuzzy play handcuffs, to blindfolds, to vibrators, naughty girl paddles, and floggers—who knew rich people were so kinky? But the one thing no one has requested yet is a strap-on. So, if that was an offer, I’m afraid you’re out of luck, honey.”

His free hand gave her a smarting smack on her cheek. “And we’ll keep it that way. The only one getting in through the back door around here will be me.”

“Trent! What a sexist perspective.”

“Except for right now, I haven’t heard you complaining.”

His spanking hand slid around in front, made its way between her thighs, and began making sure she never would either. “You remember who’s the Alpha in this relationship, don’t you, baby?”

It took her a moment to formulate a reply because two of his fingers had located her clit and the constant rubbing and flicking, not to mention the occasional slow roll between his thumb and forefinger were almost too much to bear. What finally slipped out for an answer, was a moaned, “You are, Trent.”

“That’s right, and who are you to me, Carly?”

“I’m your very good girl, sir.”

He growled, his hips moving faster, as she knew they would. One of two things always got him going, either spanking her while she called him sir, or her telling him she was his good girl. Her smile of pleasure, which she dipped her head to hide from him, was because she’d deliberately used both hoping he’d get on with it and make her come.

The smile faded, however, when he stopped. Both his cock and his thumb stayed buried inside her as he proceeded to swat first one cheek then the other. This meant she lost the stimulation on her clit. But the combination of the warm tingle on her ass pulled taut while bent over in front of him and being filled to exquisite fullness was a tradeoff she could live with.

“More, please,” she moaned in mounting urgency.

He didn’t give it to her, of course. It was Trent who set the pace, not her. She knew it, and he called her on it, though he massaged the hot spots he’d created while he did.

“Someone's behaving deliberately naughty. Don’t think I’m not aware of what you’re up to, Carly.”

“But it’s my wedding day, and I’ve been the best girl ever this year. Don’t you think I deserve to cut loose?” Her protest came out just the slightest bit whiny as she met his gaze in the mirror. She wanted to come, though, and badly. “I graduated with honors, found our dream house with the four bedrooms and huge yard we wanted, and I started managing your office. Just think, your men won’t ever have to threaten another revolt like last summer when they didn’t get paid on time.”

His stern expression, which the twitch of his lips told her he didn’t mean, smoothed out, and a smile played around the corners of his mouth. Heavenly day, he was handsome! Then, to her great satisfaction, he started moving again.

“I’ll give you the ‘with honors.’ That was all you—proud of you, babe. But I seem to remember it was me who spotted the house on Bel-Air Place. And the men threatened a revolt because I missed the direct deposit deadline because you came in while I was doing payroll and insisted on modeling the newest treasure, your words, from the La Perla summer collection.”

“You sound as though you’re complaining.”

He snorted derisively. “Was my cock inside you?”

She giggled because that was answer enough. But Trent was in a chatty mood—of all times, sheesh!—and continued. 

“If memory serves you came three times. Once by my tongue, another with my fingers at the same time you went down on me, and the last with your back to my desk, your heels hooked over my shoulders, and me deeper than ever in your very wet pussy.” For emphasis, he plunged hard, though she didn’t need any physical hints to job her memory, she recalled everything about that night.

“Let’s make a deal, baby. No talk about payroll, work, or other men, even my men, when I’m fucking my beautiful wife.”

“You’ve got it, sir.” She would have agreed to anything at this point,

His free hand swept up her back to entangle in her hair again. When he pulled, keeping her head high and facing front, together, their eyes dropped to the image of her breasts in the mirror, swaying to the rhythm of his hips smacking against her ass. Nothing felt quite as good as when Trent pinched and rolled her nipples while driving inside her, except his hand wound in her hair, firmly tugging, while his thumb was in her ass.

“Mmmm, so good, husband,” she moaned.

“I know what my girl likes, which is why I do it. Back to the subject of good versus naughty, what do you call stripping naked in a store in the mall and having sex on the panty display? Or being tied with your hands to your ankles and taking my cock down your throat on the register counter. Or bending over with your cheek against the glass while I spank your gorgeous ass in the window where anyone passing could see.”

“A very lucky girl?” She cried out, not from pain or in protest, rather, from pleasure because Trent slammed into her hard in response to her sass. She barely possessed the capacity to mount a defense. “We were closed, and you swore the cameras were off.”

“So I did.”

“And you were the one who bound me with rope and put me on the counter. You were also the one who stripped me naked and laid me on that table.”

“Now who’s complaining?” He moved faster, going harder and deeper. “I’m also the one who covers your mouth to contain your screams as you get off at least twice to my once, each time.”

She groaned, feeling her orgasm building fast. “All wonderful memories. Thank you, sir.”

Shy of a crescendo and the big finish, her usually wonderful, handsome new husband turned from teasing to diabolical and slowed to a leisurely rhythm once more. Her fingers curled into the unyielding vanity as she whimpered in frustration.

Carly heard the amusement in his voice when he murmured, “You’re very welcome, baby.”

He continued to play, grinding slowly while still firmly planted, and he pulled his thumb all the way out of her ass before gliding it back in and doing the delicious twisty thing he did so well. Once filled again, he resumed his deliberate, unhurried pace.

A devious chuckle came in answered to her ragged exasperated moan.

“You must admit,” he said at length, “your behavior isn’t always good. But as I told you a year ago tonight, I don’t mind a little naughty. And as I promised back then, you can feel free to explore your wayward side with me. I’ll keep you safe, baby, and if you ever stray too far across the line towards bad, I’ll enjoy making you my good girl again.”

“I want to be good for you, Trent. I love you, honey—”

“I love you, too, Carly.”

“You didn’t let me finish. I want to be good, but tonight, not so much.” Gone was the shy girl of a year ago too afraid to ask for more kisses. She reached back and grabbed his hips, pulling while she rocked against him. “How about finishing what you started, big guy, and getting get me off now because you’re driving me insane with all this slow stuff. Afterward, I promise to be angelic the rest of the night.”

His laughter filled the room at the same time his thumb slipped out. Then, he spanked her upturned ass twice on each cheek. Her whimpers—not of surprise, she knew her man and that this exact thing would happen—turned into low, sustained cries of delight after he plunged his thumb back in and began giving them both what they wanted, by pumping his cock fast and deep into her pussy.

“There goes my baby, decimating the line again, and me without your paddle.”

She managed to ask, though just barely, “You forgot to pack it?”

“I left it on purpose; the handle contains metal. Don’t you know airport security would have gotten a kick out of finding a princess paddle in my bag?”

“Good thing I packed one for you.”

He paused, mid-stroke. “What?”

“Pull out the drawer to your right.”

He didn’t waste a second, and soon withdrew a heart-shaped pink paddle the size of his hand. Soft white fur covered one side, the other was padded leather imprinted with the words “his good girl” in raised white letters.

“I had it made-to-order as a wedding gift. Do you like it?”

“I love it, baby, thank you. But the better question is, will you?” He pulled all the way out of both greedy holes. “Let’s find out.”

“Now?” Damn, she should have waited until later to give it to him. She was almost at orgasm number one.

“You’re bent over in front of me. What better time is there?” The mirror reflected the grin on his oh-so-handsome face as he rubbed the furry side over her upturned backside.

“Mm...” she hummed, “that’s so very nice.”

“I bet,” he drawled.

She cracked one eye, wondering at the change in his tone, and rightly so, because he flipped the paddle over to leather and laid a smarting smack on the center of each cheek. Before her yelp of surprise had faded, he was back to stroking lightly with the fur.

“And that’s even nicer.” Understatement of the year; the abrupt change in sensation from stinging to soft was a-freaking-mazing. A thought occurred to her, and she arched, twisting from side to side, trying to see her butt.

“Stay still, Carly. I’m far from through with you.”

“But I want to see if it left a mark. I can’t tell. Did it?”

“After a couple light taps? You’re barely pink.”

Her eyes met his. She’d been curious and rather excited by the prospect ever since she bought it online. “I’ve wondered for weeks if it would leave an imprint.”

He frowned. “It would take a helluva lot more than I just gave you, and, baby, we are not going there.” His brows arched, his face stern when he added a simple question. “Unless you’ve earned it. Have you?”

Should she make something up? If he found out, he’d be ticked.

“Other than provoking you a few minutes ago? No,” she answered reluctantly.

In the beginning, she’d been leery about taking more than his hand. But as they played, her confidence and boldness grew. It turned out Trent was the one who had to set limits, saying when enough was enough. It was her trust in him which made her feel safe testing the boundaries between pleasure and pain. His refusal, now, to explore all her gift had to offer left her disappointed.

“You want me to mark you.” He didn’t pose it as a question.

Her gaze shot to the mirror once again meeting his. Did she? Is that what this was about? The thought of the paddle’s imprint on her cheek, not merely pink-rosy skin, but words that spoke what she meant to him. A light came on.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I guess I do.”

“You’ve got my rings.”

“I know, Trent, and I love them.”

“But you want more.”

Her man, always so intuitive.

“Ever thought about a tattoo?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No needles.” She’d had a needle phobia since she was a kid. No...hell, no.

“A collar?”

She wrinkled her nose. They weren’t master and slave, so that didn’t sit right with her either.

“You want to carry something of me with you, something personal, and intimate. Don’t you, baby?”

She nodded, tears misting her eyes. He was so in tune with her, he had figured it out before she did.

“Then I’ll do it.”

He thrust hard again, sank both hands in her hair, and pulled her up in front of him, so deep now she felt impaled by him. He wrapped his arms around her, taking a breast in one big palm, while the other slipped down in front to cup her sex.

“Trent,” she gasped, her heart racing.

His voice harsh and raw with emotion, his breath brushed against the side of her neck in a rush of heat. “Did you toss your pills?”

Her eyes opened wide at the sudden, seemingly random question. “Yes, like we agreed.”

“Then I’ll mark you, but it won’t be with leather.” Using his chin, he brushed the hair off her neck and laid a hot, open mouthed, wet kiss on her throat, right over her pulse point. Goosebumps broke out on her skin at the feel of his tongue tracing every rapid beat.

She curled her hands around his forearms and clung to him as he drove up inside her. His thumb at her breast flicked over her nipple; the other wedged between her thighs relentlessly thrummed her clit. As he built a climax within her, she watched in the mirror as their joined bodies moved together, making love as husband and wife for the very first time.

And just as their lives had intertwined today, so did their orgasms as they cried out their pleasure together.

Carly felt the surge of warmth inside her as Trent groaned his completion. The husky, gruff sound mingled with her softer breathy cries of release, to her, more beautiful than music.

It took several long moments for lucid thought to return. “I thought you were going to, um...you know. For the first time tonight.”

“Changed my mind.”

“How come?

“Love your hair, Carly, and love your sweet mouth and full breasts. And I love the roundness of your glorious ass. I can’t wait to fuck it, and make it mine, and only mine, but not tonight.” He eased out and turned her to face him, gathering her into his arms. “Instead, I wanted something more meaningful. To mark you deep inside, and God willing, make the baby we both want on our wedding night.” He kissed her, long and slow, and when he lifted his head, his lips hovering over hers, he brushed her hair from her face. “He or she will always be a part of you that is also a part of me.”

“Oh, Trent,” she managed, through panting, hitching breaths.

“As for something tangible that you can see and touch until our child arrives, I thought perhaps a chain with a heart engraved with ‘his good girl’ on it.”

He was so unbelievably sweet. “I’m going to cry,” she announced too late. Tears were already beading on her lashes, and a few had overflowed to roll down her cheeks.

Smiling down at her, Trent whisked them away with his thumbs. “Let’s get you to bed, beautiful. You can lay on your back with me still inside you, and, with luck, my seed will take root. To make doubly sure, I’m going to clean you up, and we’ll have round two.”

“Yes, please. I want that, every bit of it. The claiming, the chain,” she paused in her excitement to clarify, “can it be a belly one?”

His smiled widened as he nodded. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“Then, a baby, a gold belly chain, and, of course”—she reached up and laid her hand on his gorgeous, whisker-stubbled cheek—“another round, always, with my sexy badass husband who is also incredibly fucking sweet. Oh, but in reverse order, of course.”

He tossed his head back and laughed heartily before he picked her up and, while grinning from ear to ear, carried her to the big bed. He arranged her hair on the pillows—to this day the red-gold spirals still fascinated him—before he sat on the edge of the mattress and leaned over her.

“Love you, Carly, baby, with all my heart.”

“I love you, too, Trent. More than you’ll ever know.”

She saw him through happy tears as he entered the bathroom. Sometimes, she cleaned up on her own and came back to bed for more. Other times, Trent preferred doing it himself. The first time he’d brought a warm wet cloth and spread her thighs, she’d squirmed beneath his hands, heat stealing into her face. Although he insisted, his touch was gentle as he bathed the proof of their combined passion from her skin. She loved how he wanted to take care of her in every way, but she’d been mortified. Her shyness faded over time as the tender ritual repeated, and now she took pleasure in it nearly as much as he did.

She loved him. So much so, sometimes, she thought her heart would burst with it. And what better way to share their love than by starting the family they both wanted? She felt a warm flow through her at the thought of a dark-haired, blue-eyed little boy, or a girl with Trent’s extraordinary green eyes. Although he loved it, she wouldn’t wish her titian hair on any of her children. But even if they were so blessed, with her gorgeous husband for a daddy, their child would be beautiful.

Her hand slid over her belly, and she wondered if they had indeed made their baby tonight. A little tingle spread across her skin, and though she couldn’t know for sure, she thought maybe they had.

Over the past year, she and Trent had often talked about the life they would share and the family they would create. Carly would have been fine with getting started before the wedding, but not her old-fashioned man. He’d insisted on vows first. She hadn’t expected him to get started on the wedding night, however. Except, if she had conceived, it would make the memories of this night even more special.

Rolling onto her side, she wrapped her arms around her waist, watching for his return as she smiled inanely, like a giddy, head-over-heels-in-love fool. She couldn’t help it.

Her one-time crush had turned out to be the love of her life. The same as in her dreams, he was tall, strong, ruggedly handsome, and a badass. And her fantasy-man-come-to-life, who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, rocked her world every time they hit the sheets, as well as the floor, the wall, the high-backed couch in his office, and the table in the middle of the showroom floor at Sweet Nothings.

Trent was indeed her dream man but also so much more, and, today, he’d taken her hand, vowed to honor, cherish, and love her always, and, promised to share the adventures of their lives together.

He’d asked before if she was happy. With him, as usual, mere words couldn’t describe just how happy she felt.