The reception is a blur of champagne. The air is thick with laughter and congratulations, and the soft music beckoning us to the dance floor.

I spend as much time as I can with Willow in my arms, staring into her pretty hazel eyes.

She's my wife.

It's the only thought in my head.

Through all our thanks yous and congratulations, through the toast and the cake and the last dance, it's the only thought in my head.

Even as we say our goodbyes and tumble into our limo for the two mile drive to our hotel.

My whole body is warm.

Light.

Not with nerves, but with joy. And it's written all over her face too.

She's as happy as I am.

I fall back onto the bench seat.

She climbs into my lap. Her hands go to my hair. Her smile spreads over her cheeks as she looks down at me. "We're really married."

I take her left hand and and trace the outline of her rings with my thumb. "You have doubts yet?"

She stares back into her eyes. She knows she has the power to crush me, but she doesn't consider it for a second. "No." She slides her right hand down my left arm, takes my hand, and traces the outline of my wedding ring. "I don't think I've ever been this sure of something."

"You're my wife."

"You're my husband." She releases my hand and settles into my lap. "It's perfect. Today… everything was perfect." She leans down and presses her lips to mine.

Fuck, she tastes good.

I need this closeness with her.

I need everything else in the universe gone.

I need to make love to my wife.

And I don't give a fuck how cheesy it sounds.

She pulls back with a needy sigh. She wants me, badly. But there's something besides desire in her hazel eyes—

She's exhausted.

I reach up to run my fingers through her hair.

Her eyelids flutter closed. Her lips part with a sigh.

I get lost in the pleasure spreading over her expression. "I'll forgive you if you fall asleep."

"I won't forgive myself."

"It's almost midnight."

"I don't care."

"That's 3 a.m. in Los Angeles."

"I don't care about that either."

"You drank half a bottle of champagne."

Her smile spreads over her cheeks. She stares back into my eyes. "Are you trying to talk your way out of sex?"

"Fuck no."

"Good." She slides her hand to the back of my neck. "I need to have sex with my husband."

"Fuck, say that again."

"I need to fuck my husband."

I nod. "I need to fuck my wife." I take her hand and plant a soft kiss on the pad of her ring finger. Then I move onto the middle finger. The pointer finger. The pinkie.

The thumb.

"Tom…" Her voice gets needy.

But it's tired too.

I need to do this now. Hell, I want to do this now.

"Remember that day we went to the roller rink?" I ask.

She laughs. "And we had sex in the limo?"

"I was gonna remind you about how we fucked in that empty office. And-" I reach down for the hem of her skirt and push it up her ankles. "That was the first time I had my head between your legs."

"Yeah…" The tiredness drops from her voice. Until it's all needy. "Tom, I…"

"First time anyone ever ate you out."

She nods as I drag my fingertips up the inside of her calf. "It's only two more minutes to the hotel."

I roll down the divider to call to the driver. "Keep driving until I tell you to stop."

"Sure, sir." His voice is even. No doubt, he's used to horny newlyweds.

Willow's chest heaves as I roll up the divider.

She undoes the knot of my tie and pulls it aside. "You look good in a suit."

"Like a nice boy?"

"A nice boy with a cock piercing."

I laugh. "And a sleeve tattoo."

She presses her palm over my hip, the one with the tattoo of her name. "And this." Her eyes meet mine. "You do realize you're looking at the least bad ass person with a chest-piece of all time."

I drag my fingers over the lines of the ink on her chest, that glass heart, broken and bleeding. I hate that she went through all that pain, but I do love the tattoo. It's a scar. A sign she's strong enough to survive anything. A symbol of her reclaiming her body.

God, I really am a cheesy fucker now.

"You're very bad ass." I slide my hands over her shoulders. "Pink hair."

"True." She laughs.

"Pink dress."

"Close."

I tug her skirt up to her calves. "Pink shoes."

"Is that really bad ass?"

"Why the fuck not?" I run my fingertips over her bare skin. "Fuck, I love your shoulders."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. They're strong. Like all of you." I lean in and press my lips to hers. "You're the strongest person I know, kid."

"Tom…"

"Help me find the zipper on this thing."

"Did you like it?" She stares back into my eyes.

"You looked like a fucking angel."

"Yeah?"

I nod. "You are an angel. You fucking saved me."

"You too."

"Zipper. Now."

She lets out a needy sigh as she turns around in my lap. "In the middle. See?"

Yeah. I find it and pull it all the way down her back.

I trace the zipper's line up her back. She's not wearing a bra, and fuck the feeling of her bare skin against my fingertips—

She pushes the dress to her waist then lifts her hips so I can push it to her knees.

She's wearing soft, white lace lingerie. It's perfect and gorgeous but I need it gone.

She lets out a soft moan as I push it off her hips.

Willow turns around and slings her legs over mine to straddle me.

She sinks into my lap.

My wife is naked in my lap.

It's fucking amazing.

But I still need to be between her legs.

I wrap my arms around her waist and I kiss her hard.

She kisses back with every bit of love and affection in the world.

Her need pours into me.

My need pours into her.

Slowly, I lower her onto her back on the bench seat.

I drag my lips over her cheek. Her neck. Her collarbone. I trace the lines of her tattoo with my tongue.

She shudders as I take her nipple into my mouth.

Her hands dig into my hair. "Tom… no teasing. Please. I need you."

Fuck, the words are music.

I move to her other nipple and play with it until she's groaning.

Then I drag my lips down her stomach.

Across her hips.

I trace every line of her Tom tattoo with my tongue. It's still hard to believe that she marked her body for me.

That she's wearing my ring.

That she wants me forever.

But this is an undeniable mountain of evidence.

Willow really loves me.

It's not that I ever doubt her affection. It's more that I still can't believe I'm worth loving. Sometimes.

But the way she looks at me—

"Tom," she breathes. "Now."

Fuck, my wife is demanding my body.

This is my marital duty.

I'm not about to fuck that up my first night as a married man.

I plant a kiss on her pelvis.

The inside of her right inner thigh.

The left.

She shudders as I bring my lips to her clit. I lick her up and down once. For me. So I can taste every inch of her.

Then I go right to the spot where she needs me.

And I lick her hard and fast.

She presses her thighs against my cheeks.

She bucks against my mouth.

Fuck, she tastes good.

And the way her groans are filling the limo—

The way she's tugging at my hair—

I can feel all her need.

And it's making me so fucking hard.

I pin her to the bench seat and I lick her harder.

Faster.

Her groan gets heavy. She's almost there.

I lick her again and again.

Until she's groaning my name.

Until she's coming on my lips.

Fuck, I lick her until she's pulling me back up her body.

She looks down at me, her eyes hazy with pleasure. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"Yeah?"

Her nod is heavy. Needy. She slides my suit jacket off my shoulders. She takes her time undoing every button of my shirt. Undoing my belt.

My eyelids press together as she cups me over my slacks.

"Fuck." I reach for her. My palm presses between her shoulder blades. "Willow…"

She unzips my pants and slides them to my knees. She takes her spot in my lap, rubbing against my cock. Fucking boxers are in the way.

It's not a lot of fabric.

I can feel how warm she is.

How wet she is.

I need that.

I need her.

She plants a hard, deep kiss on my lips, not at all shy about the fact that I taste like her. Her hands dig into my hair and hold me in place.

Fuck, I love when she gets like this, all demanding and in control.

Like she needs to use my body for her pleasure.

Like she needs to use my body for my pleasure.

She drags her lips over my cheek and sucks on my earlobe.

My breath hitches. My nails dig into her skin. God damn. She knows exactly how to work me.

Pleasure floods my body.

I can't fucking take not being inside her.

But it's the good kind of torture.

She moves to my other ear, grinding against me as she teases me.

One hand knots in her hair. The other presses between her shoulder blades.

I let my eyelids flutter closed.

I soak in all the pleasure she wants to give me.

Then-

Fuck-

She drags her lips down my neck. My chest. My stomach.

She places herself on her knees on the floor of the limo and she pulls my boxers to my ankles.

She looks up at me, her hazel eyes full of desire.

She holds my gaze as she brushes her lips against my tip.

As she takes me into her mouth.

Fuck-

She's too fucking sexy.

And her tongue flicking against my piercing feels too fucking good.

I have to bring my hand to her chest and play with her nipple.

I have to get her groaning against my cock.

Fuck.

That's my wife on her knees in a limo.

Who the fuck would think this could be so fucking romantic?

I let pleasure flood my limbs. My balls tighten. I'm too fucking close.

I look down at her and tug at her hair. "Now."

She presses her palms against my thighs and pushes herself up.

I slide my hands around her waist and pull her into my lap.

Her knees plant outside my thighs.

Her hands plant on my shoulders.

She looks down at me as I bring her body onto mine.

As my tip strains against her.

She lets out a low, deep groan as I slide inside her.

"Fuck, Tom." Her nails sink into my skin.

I bring my hands to her hips and I guide her body over mine.

I pull her closer.

I rock my hips to meet her.

I'm deep inside her.

We stay locked like that, staring into each other's eyes, bodies moving together.

Until she's there, groaning my name as she comes on my cock.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me closer.

Then her lips are on mine, and she's kissing me hard.

And I'm groaning against her mouth as I drive into her.

Fuck.

With my next thrust, I come. My cock pulses. Pleasure floods my body.

She rocks with me until I've spilled every drop.

Then she collapses on top of me.

I wrap my arms around her as I catch my breath.

And I look up at her.

I stare into those gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Fuck, I love you," I breathe.

"I love you too."

"You want to go back to the hotel room and do that again?"

She nods.

Fuck, I'm lucky.

That's Willow in my lap.

She's my everything.

And, now, she's my wife.