EPILOGUE
Declan
Three months later…
We were married on the first of the month. A Saturday. It was early summer and the blooms in the botanical garden we’d chosen were just opening. A perfect backdrop to a perfect day.
I stood at the altar with Brennan and my brothers beside me, waiting for my bride.
Part of me thought I’d been waiting my whole life for Amelia, something in me knowing the first time I’d ever seen her that she was the one.
The people in attendance were a mixture of Casey and Byrne family members, but up front and center sat my two uncles, Jimmy and Joseph. I was pretty sure Joseph was crying into a hanky, and his brother sat beside him rolling his eyes.
They’d taken the news of our engagement the way I thought they would: with whooping cheers and a few rounds of drinks bought for everyone at the Backroom that night. On my dime, of course.
“We’re on Social Security, you know,” Jimmy had reminded me.
The music started, and adrenaline raced through me, speeding up my heart rate as I waited for her and Jack Sr. to appear in the doorway.
“There’s still time to run,” Finn hissed from his spot. Brennan, beside me as best man, laughed under his breath.
“You two wait until it’s your turn,” I said, trying to move my mouth as little as possible. “I’m going to torture you.”
Brennan just shook his head.
“Never happening,” Finn whispered.
“Famous last words,” I shot back.
Behind us, Father Mike cleared his throat and gave us a pointed look. Giving him an apologetic smile, I focused on the doorway again and on my bride-to-be, who had appeared like a vision with her father holding her arm.
The gown was sleeveless and left her shoulders and arms gloriously bare, her skin practically glowing against the white of the dress and the veil. She carried a bouquet of orange roses, her favorite she’d informed me, and leaned heavily on Jack Sr., who looked better every day.
Our eyes met as she got closer, and the shy little smile she gave me had all the blood in my body rushing to my groin. Holy shit. How was I going to make it to the hotel tonight without dragging her in a broom closet somewhere and making this marriage real in the biblical sense? The woman set my blood on fire.
The service was a giant, Catholic blur. I had a hard time concentrating on anything that wasn’t my wife. Oh yes, I’d been referring to her as my wife in my thoughts — and a couple inadvertent conversations with her since she returned from California — frequently and figured this whole wedding thing was just a formality for her parents.
My mother wasn’t in attendance. She was out of the country on a mysterious retreat in the south of France, but I was okay with that. I still hadn’t forgiven her for the stunt she pulled when she gave Claudia Vickers a key to my apartment and encouraged her to “surprise” me.
Jack and Rosie Byrne were there, front row, with Amelia’s two grandmothers. JJ wasn’t, of course, but that was a given.
“You may kiss your bride.” Father Mike’s words brought me back to the present as I lifted the lace veil to reveal Amelia’s beaming face. I leaned in, making her my wife before God and man, forcing myself to pull back just a little, no matter how badly I wanted to kiss an orgasm out of her. This was still a wedding, after all.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest declared, and the small gathered crowd erupted in cheers.
I didn’t hear or see anything other than the vision that was my wife — the happy tears in her eyes, the swollen lips I’d just given her, and the rosy blush to her cheeks at the ruckus going on around us.
“I love you,” I mouthed as I took her hand in mine.
“I love you too,” she replied as we faced the crowd and made our way to the reception downtown as Mr. and Mrs. Declan Casey.
Amelia
I was dead on my feet by the time we managed to get ourselves away from the reception. From the dinner that we were too busy to eat. The wine we were too busy to drink. The endless photos we were forced to pose for.
I wasn’t complaining though. It was a dream come true for me, and I had gotten to marry my own Prince Charming, the boy who’d stolen and kind of broken my heart eight years ago.
The wedding was everything I dreamed it would be — small, intimate, and personal. And it was all over before I knew it.
We were staying at a nice hotel by the airport for the night, and in the morning, we were heading to San Juan for our honeymoon. This time as a married couple and where I would be encouraging Declan to tell me he loved me before every single orgasm I’d give him — and I promised him a ton of those.
He helped me get free of the veil and my intricate hairdo with painstaking gentleness, carefully pulling the hairpins free as the curls tumbled down my back. When the last pin was out, and my hair was down, he knelt in front of me, the look on his face hard to decipher.
He was silent and didn’t speak for a long moment.
“What is it?” I was nervous suddenly.
He smiled, squeezing my hands.
“I’m just memorizing this,” he said, waving his hands toward me, then the room. “All of this. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect bride. A more perfect wedding. A more perfect wedding night.”
His sentimental side choked me up a little, and I smiled, leaning forward to kiss him.
“I love you, Declan Casey,” I whispered, unable to form the pretty, poetic words that he had for fear that I would blubber and totally ruin my makeup before we could get the consummating underway.
“And I love you, Amelia Casey.”
The sound of my name on his lips sent a shockwave of red-hot desire through me, and I was suddenly in a rush to get the damned dress off.
Wiggling to get free, he helped me step out of the gown as it pooled to the floor, leaving me in stockings and the white lingerie I’d picked out to wear under it. It was a lace corset and matching thong set, and while I knew it’d make one hell of an impression, I hadn’t expected Declan to drop to his knees in front of me like he was worshipping some statue.
“You’re gorgeous, baby,” he said, kissing one hip bone and then the other. “I’ll never get this image out of my mind, holy shit.”
I loved that I made him weak, but he returned the favor by placing kisses on my inner thighs as he popped the fasteners on the back of the corset free, exposing my chest in the action. I knew better than to be shy and cover myself, so I stood there and let my husband roll the G-string over the swell of my ass and down my legs.
He pushed me back on the bed once the last of my clothing was shed and took about a half second to shed his own, before pushing my knees apart and thrusting his tongue into the very core of me. I fell back and groaned at the sensation, and he pushed me further, not letting me shy away and exploring every inch of me with his talented tongue.
Just as I was about to crash, he stopped and moved to lay above me, holding his weight off me with his elbows.
“I love you, wife,” he said, as he gently pushed himself into me, making me bite into his shoulder and moan as he moved.
“I love you, husband,” I hissed through a held breath as he moved inside me, pulling me quickly into an orgasm that had been building all day from the teasing touches and stolen kisses at the reception.
Declan followed close after and gave me everything he had, shouting his release as he came.
I knew I was new to it all, but from what I could tell, married life with Declan Casey suited me. He rolled gently off me and gathered me into his arms as he swept the hair from my face.
“Day one,” he whispered, sealing it with a gentle kiss.
I smiled.
Day one, indeed.
THE END
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