Epilogue
The day of the wedding is bright and surprisingly warm, without a hint of cloud in the sky. Being late October, I wonder if it’s wise to hold the ceremony outdoors, but Jayson insists I have the wedding I always envisioned. There’s an indoor backup plan, but it turns out to be unnecessary.
We exchange vows as crowds of guests watch. If anyone thinks it strange that we’re renewing our vows after only three years, they don’t say so.
When Jayson kisses me, it’s profoundly different than any of the other kisses we’ve shared. I’ve been married to him for three years, but now, and finally, I truly feel like his wife.
As we line up to greet the guests, I glance at the new wedding set on my finger. The other one was exquisite and expensive, but Jayson confessed his assistant — not the idiot one — selected the set of rings before our hasty marriage. This set, much more to my liking, was chosen by my husband personally.
Feeling warm inside, I do my best to get through the rest of the afternoon. I’m thankful for our friends, and thrilled to have a real wedding, but I’m also feeling impatient to have Jayson alone.
Sure, I’m looking forward to the “wedding night”, but I also have another reason for being impatient.
It’s several hours later before we can slip away from the reception at the hotel and go up to the honeymoon suite. I squeal with surprise when he sweeps me into his arms to carry me over the threshold — a tradition he didn’t bother with the first time.
With Jayson’s assistance, I shed the heavy and complicated wedding gown, and he removes his tux. I watch each step as the jacket falls off his shoulders, he unties his tie, he undoes the cufflinks and the buttons of his crisp shirt, and undoes his belt with great interest.
The Jacuzzi-for-two in the huge marble bathroom beckons, and we sink into it. As he adjusts the controls, I say, “Don’t turn up the temperature too high, love.”
Jayson grins. “Why? Because we’ll make our own heat?”
I smile. “No doubt, but that isn’t the reason.”
He leans back, tucking his arms around me and pulling me down onto his lap. The light hair on his chest tickles my back. “And what’s your reason?” Jayson caresses my breast, lightly tracing my nipple as he asks.
I wince slightly. “I read it wasn’t safe… for the baby.”
His hand freezes, and he seems to have stopped breathing.
“Baby?”
I nod, turning my neck so I can see his face. “I’m pregnant.”
He cups my stomach. “How far along?”
“About ten weeks.” I lay my hand over his. “I think we might have conceived the night you proposed.”
He nods. “Ah, yes. The night when we didn’t even make it to our room.”
With a giggle, I answer, “We didn’t even make it to the nearest sofa, Jayson.”
Jayson pales. “We’ve done it many times since. I could have hurt you, or the baby.”
I shake my head. “I talked to Dr. Anderson when I found out. She let me know that it’s perfectly safe to have sex, even with my history. As much as I wanted to surprise you with the news on our wedding night, I wouldn’t have put our baby in danger.”
I look down as his eyes fill with tears for a moment.
“I know.” He turns to me again. “How long have you known, agape mou?”
“About four weeks.” I can’t help but feel a little sheepish. “It almost killed me to wait to tell you.” I wanted to wait until the wedding night, but I’d had another reason as well. Dr. Anderson assured me that once she saw the heartbeat, there was a less than five percent chance of miscarrying. The little heart had fluttered away at the ultrasound last week.
“You deserve a sound spanking for not telling me sooner,” he says with a growl.
I grin.
“Promises, promises.”
His expression turns serious. “I will keep every promise I make to you, Harper.”
With a solemn nod, I answer, “I know, Jayson. I trust you completely.” I have no hesitation at uttering the words. Jayson’s proven his love and trustworthiness in a thousand tiny ways, and a few major ones — like taking me with him when he went to Maia’s hotel to confront her. The scene had been ugly, but we haven’t heard a word from that woman since that night.
“S’agapo, Harper.” His voice is soft as the bubbles that surround us.
He loves me.
“Ke ego s’agapo, Jayson.” I turn in the water to face him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Forever.”
His kiss is fierce, almost feral with passion.
His wet body is against mine, and I can feel his shaft growing against my leg. I want him inside me so badly. In some ways it’s the only time I feel complete when he takes me.
“Fuck me,” I manage to say between kisses.
“Yes,” he growls. “Yes, little Harper.” He turns me around so that my ass is in the air and I’m leaning out of the tub onto a set of towels on the ledge. With a shock I feel his lips against my butt cheeks, as his hands massage them.
“What are you doing?” I ask him softly, but he ignores me. His fingers are tracing the soft skin from my ass to my clit, softly, barely touching, so that I’m practically whining for him. Then I feel his tongue on me, in my most intimate of places.
It’s a sensation I’ve never felt before, to have his tongue circling that opening while his fingers get closer and closer to plunging inside.
But instead of doing that, despite the slick evidence of my need, he grasps one butt cheek in each hand and licks the length of me as he opens me up. I squeal as his tongue moves in like a snake, swirling its wetness as he massages my ass cheeks.
“Jayson,” I say, shocked, as he licks me. The only sound in return is a growling groan, and the vibration of his voice makes me close to coming. Then one finger slowly enters my tender wetness moving in and out, rubbing the g spot as he licks, brushing my clit with his thumb.
I’m weak, barely able to hold my head up as he expertly brings me to a climax harder than I’ve ever felt in my life. I scream his name, my husband’s name, my true husband’s name, as he fills all my openings with himself.
“That’s right,” he says as I pant as the orgasm subsides. Then he slaps my ass softly. “That’s right.”
He presses the head of his cock against my slit, teasing me with the petal-soft skin of the head before pushing it in, its hard length filling me and opening me. His slow pace is perfectly torturous, perfectly pleasurable at the same time.
“Fuck me,” I whine again. “You feel so good.”
“It’s you.” His voice is low. “You feel so wet and soft. You have the best pussy, Harper, so sweet and tight.” He swivels his cock around as he grasps my hips. “That pussy is mine forever.”
I know he’s right. It’s always been for him, from the first moment I laid eyes on him and he made my virginal self all hot and bothered, I knew it was for him.
“I’m yours,” I groan softly, leaning into the towel.
“Damn right,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t you forget it.” He slaps my ass again as he increases the pace, and the sting feels good along with the hard strokes of his cock. I shiver, but I’m nowhere near cold.
He grabs one of my breasts and pinches the nipple as he leans over and kisses my back. He’s never been this passionate with me.
“Harper, you’re going to make me come so hard,” he says. “Your sweet little body, your pussy, your tits… all mine.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Fuck me,” I say. He starts fucking me harder and as the pleasure hits, I can hear the sound of him slapping his hips against my ass. I tip my hips for him and he groans in response, his thumb rubbing my hole as he owns me.
“Jayson,” I cry out as I come again and again, his relentless thrusting making me shudder with pleasure.
“I love you,” he says in a strained voice. “S’agapo.” And then the heat and wetness jets into me as I convulse around him, the warmth and heat the perfect start of our real lives. Together.