Chapter Twenty-Two

Caroline

The suite in the Inn is something out of my wildest dreams. One of his friends from San Diego stopped him in the hall. Several of them are staying here tonight. We had the extra space so it was perfect, even if right now, it’s inconvenient. They were bro hugging and talking about something related to guns and bad guys, so I smiled politely and took my leave. This isn’t the room that Tahoe was staying in when he asked me to marry him, this is a few rooms that were renovated into a gargantuan room that overlooks the bay. It was far later than we wanted it to be when our guests started dispersing, so the late hour lends a blueish tint to everything it hits.

The ceremony was beautifully simple. We exchanged vows on the dock. I teared up, and staying true to character, Tahoe was serene and well spoken. There were cheers, and wild shouts when we kissed, and for that one second, all was right in our world. There was nothing on my mind but the love we shared. My cheeks, honest to goodness, hurt from smiling so much. We finally snuck away when the rental company arrived to tear down the big, white tents. Now there’s electricity running through my veins where blood once raced. I’m buzzing with excitement and anticipation—the anxiety I feel at finally knowing what it feels like to have Tahoe in all ways.

There are white candles scattered everywhere. White lilies are in vases, covering every surface, even a few bouquets in large displays on the floor next to the arched window. It takes my breath away. It’s so eloquent. It’s so special. But I knew he wouldn’t treat this any other way, not after all we went through to keep this moment intact.

I sense rather than hear, when he’s behind me in the doorway. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect, Tahoe. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

He drops a kiss on my shoulder. “I did it for us,” he corrects. “I want this to be perfect.”

Just this once. I agree with his definition of perfection. “It already is. Today was the most magical day of my life. I couldn’t picture anything differently. I’m so happy you’re my husband.” The last word is new, so I smile like an idiot when I say it.

He walks in and shuts the door. The resounding lock follows. “Yes, wife. I agree. What should we do first?” He uses his cell phone to play music through a wireless speaker. He turns it up. “Need some background noise, I think.”

My heart races. “Yes. Of course. What should we do first?”

He works the buttons on his uniform and I watch in awe. “I’ll make the plan then. It’s not the most comfortable uniform. I’ll probably get comfortable. If you don’t mind. Wife?”

I nod. Like a meek child. Him naked is my favorite sight, better than a million sunrises or sunsets from the air. Better than a cloudy sky in mid-July.

He hangs up his shirt, a careful maneuver, and unzips his pants. Tahoe meets my eyes. “Then you should probably get out of that dress. It can’t be comfortable either.” His pants fall to the floor. He’s controlling this atmosphere completely and I’m eating it up in the wildest way possible.

“It’s not. It’s absolutely horrid,” I deadpan.

He holds his dominance, but I see a hint of smile in his eyes. He grabs the collar of his white undershirt and pulls it over his head in a brusque maneuver. Running his hands through his hair he rakes my body with his gaze. “Shame. I don’t think you’ve ever worn anything that makes me want to fuck you more.”

I gulp, losing my breath. “Not even my white sundress,” I counter.

He shakes his head. “Nope. Not even close.”

“Why?” I raise my chin, and step toward him.

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “Because this dress means your mine.”

“Remember that time in the diner? You sat in Shirley’s section and barely noticed me?”

That memory takes him out of character—a slight grin pulling up his lips. “That wasn’t the first time I noticed you. That was the first time I let you see me noticing you.”

“I wanted you even then. When I thought I had no right to like a man as faultless as you. Even when you hassled me the month we worked on my house. I never admitted it to myself but I was yours even then, Tahoe. A dress doesn’t make me yours,” I say, crossing to where he stands in a pair of dark boxer briefs. Slowly, I raise my left hand to his chest, right above his heart. “This makes me yours.”

His hand encircles my wrist and it’s warm, a soothing touch.

“What comes next in the plan?” I ask softly. The moonlight makes his eyes glow even bluer than they are in natural light. Every muscle is shadowed and lit in perfect harmony. “I want to touch every single part of my husband,” I admit. “Can that be part of the plan?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Turn around.”

I do, showing him my bare back and the hidden zipper the seamstress worked so tirelessly on. It’s a work of art and it honors my parents’ marriage in the best possible way. I was grateful to be able to have this from my mama on our wedding day. Tahoe kisses the middle of my back and then pauses to blow a cool breath on my spine.

My skin prickles, and I close my eyes to the sensation sliding over my whole body. He blows again on the back of my neck, and while I’m distracted by the brush of his exhale, he slides the zipper down over my backside, until the dress is released. It falls off my shoulders and turns into a billowy puddle around my feet. I inhale sharply as his fingers slice down the sides of my body, brushing the sides of my exposed breasts, and against the nip of my waist. “I like the dress on the floor even more than on your body,” he says, mouthing the words on my arm as he drags his lips from one shoulder blade to the other. “Any last words?” his voice is strained, and the sound travels down as he kneels behind me to drag my white panties down my legs.

I sigh, and look up to the ceiling to catch my breath.

He kisses, and then licks the back of my thigh right where my ass meets my leg. “I might not live through your seduction,” I say, breathing out violently. My hands are in tight fists by my sides, unable to touch him.

“You’ll live,” he whispers. He brushes the insides of my thighs with one hand, until he finally gives a gentle caress at my core—wet and waiting. At the first touch, my knees buckle and I lean forward, palms on the edge of the bed. “And you’ll be better for it. Stay still, Caroline,” Tahoe urges.

We’ve never played games like this, he’s never been this person when we mess around. “You’ve been holding out on me,” I say.

He doesn’t respond. All I hear are his sharp intakes and exhales as he rubs between my legs. When I’m about to come, because he’s a master at playing me, I feel both hands on my ass cheeks. He spreads them wide.

I gasp, but he quiets me with a hum of a noise. Intuitively, I know what’s coming next. His tongue is lapping at me and while the rest of my body is as cool as the night air, everything below my waist is fire, lighting up with each stroke of his tongue, or suck of his lips.

I call out in a muffled scream and can’t stay upright another second, my stomach collapsing on the bed.

Tahoe wipes his mouth on my right ass cheek, and then growls, “Not yet. I’ve waited too long for this.”

“Why don’t you just stick it in and then we can reset?” I say, flipping on the bed keeping my knees open to give him a view of which I speak. “Let me come at least a few times first. You’re so good at it,” I plead. “Husband,” I add. “I won’t suck your cock or anything. Only sex for Monty tonight. Okay?”

His gaze turns feral as it alternates between my face and in between my legs. “Say suck your cock one more time and I’ll fill your mouth quicker than you can say please.”

Smirking, I scoot back until my head hits the pillow. “Suck my pussy until I come,” I say instead.

Tahoe puts his hands together like he’s praying, and looks up. He doesn’t say another word, he eats me out so furiously, I come back to back with barely a pause between. This is the part of the night where we normally retreat to our respective sides of the bed and pray our subconscious personalities don’t come out while we’re sleeping and fuck each other rotten.

I’m fingering my hair, coming down from the orgasms and he’s panting with pleased exertion, chin resting on my pubic bone. “Twice?” he asks, impressed.

I nod. “That felt amazing. It wouldn’t stop. Only one thing would have made it better?”

He quirks one brow, wary of any criticism in the bedroom. I decide to put him out of his misery quickly. “If your dick was inside me while I was coming.”

“Oh,” he says, taking a page out of my shocked playbook. He’s still wearing his boxer briefs, our M.O. still in play due to brutal habit.

“What next then?” My heart rattles against my rib cage. I’m already turned on and ready. I can tell just by looking at his face, he wants to come. This is the game changer. The moment we’ve been saving all of our self-control points for. Why we fought with our friends and broke up in a panicked haste.

I lean over and slide the stretchy fabric down his thick thighs. He bends over and takes them the rest of the way off. When he stands up, his tattoos shaded in the candlelight glowing from the nightstand, I can see his hesitation. In the twine of his muscles and the set of his jaw. “They are all the way off,” he says. His chest heaves as he looks at me. “Caroline, I love you so much.” Tahoe’s voice shakes at his admission.

“Like I love you,” I reply, making a reach for his steely hard cock. He shakes his head softly, but the smile on his face tells me he’s not telling me not to touch, he’s telling me he doesn’t believe we love each other equally. “It’s going to fit,” I remark, when I wrap my hand around it and my fingers don’t meet. “We’ve had this conversation before, but I want to ask now that it’s going in there. Preliminary reassurance,” I say. “Don’t get me wrong, I want it inside me more than anything else, I’m just talking logistics right now.” He joins me on the bed, on his knees in front of me.

I rise up to meet him. One naked body pressed against the other. Heart to heart.

I slide my hand up and down the large shaft, and he reaches between my legs once more. This time, he doesn’t rub my clit, he spreads the entrance open with his pointer and ring finger and slides his middle finger inside me.

His eyes flare open. I see the surprise. “It’s going to be a tight fit,” he admits, clearing his throat. He moves his finger inside of me and my eyes actually roll back in my head. “Oh my god,” I moan. “What is that?” I lean my head against his chest.

“Eyes up, Sunny,” he orders. “I want to try something.” As he speaks, he keeps moving his finger in that come hither tempo that is seriously boggling my mind, and turning my legs to jelly.

I open my eyes. “Try it. Try anything,” I breathe. “Please. It feels so good.”

I’ve forgotten his dick in my hand for the moment, at the gentle surge in my hand, I work it a little more. He closes his eyes with pleasure. “Stop for a second. I need you to focus,” he says. “Better yet, I need to focus.” I refuse not to touch it, but I stop pumping my fist.

He stops moving his finger and presses the same spot hard. There’s no way I can keep my eyes open. The pleasure is seated too deep. When I open them, he’s smiling. “I got two in,” he says, biting his lip. “One more, and you might not tear when I fuck you.” He swallows, and runs his lips and nose against my neck. The full sensation is fucking brilliant. “I want you to enjoy this. I should have been fingering you the whole time. I feel like an idiot.”

He licks my neck and I forget to breathe. “There’s nothing you can do that will hurt me right now, Tahoe. Absolutely nothing. Your touch only makes me feel good.”

I spread my knees apart a little further to give him better access and I feel it more—his fingers slip deeper. Tahoe stars moving his fingers again in that same rhythmic motion, and I toss my head back.

“Lay down,” Tahoe says. He takes my body weight in one arm and lowers me like I’m a feather, until I’m resting on the mattress. His skill is top notch because his working hand is still making me feel light headed—turning everything I thought I knew about an orgasm on its head. He kisses me, his lips a whisper touch against my neck. My ear. My mouth. With both of my hands free, I let my fingers roam his body. The contour of his hips where his sculpted ass starts has mostly been hidden from view unless I was giving him a blow job. The warmth of his body on the inside of my thighs is another new sensation.

“I think I’m going to come,” I say, arching my back so my breasts press against his chest.

He stops moving. “No, don’t. Not yet. You’re feeling good?” he asks, eyes vivid and assessing.

I groan. “Look at me, do I look like I’m feeling good?” He lets his gaze wander over my body—my hardened nipples, my hips working his fingers, and my flushed, excited physique.

He scoots forward, and removes his fingers in a slow, deliberate move that has me feeling cold and empty. I hiss out a frustrated breath. “That doesn’t feel good.”

“It will soon,” he replies. “I hope,” he adds in a lower voice. His hand shakes a bit as he lines up his throbbing shaft to where it’s never been before. He swallows hard as he watches his body and mine.

His gaze flicks up to meet mine, and there aren’t any words left to say. I feel the head as he pushes it in. While it’s bigger than his fingers, I’m so wet and ready to receive him, it makes me delirious with lust. Here’s this big, beautiful man trying to be careful with me. Because he loves me. Tahoe is watching my face for any sign of discomfort. “I’m okay. Give me more,” I say.

He hisses out a breath. “You have no idea how badly I want to give you all of it. Right now, Caroline.” His words are a feral growl, and they send a shockwave to my core. The very place that needs the pep talk. “Can you raise your hips? You’re so fucking tight. So tight.”

I raise my hips a touch, and I realize why he asked, it slides his cock in a bit more at the same angle so it’s less jarring. I back my hips to bed the bed and rock into him again, going a little further this time.

“I feel so full,” I admit, moaning when it rubs just the right way. He takes this as his cue to work my clit as I try out my new superpower.

He sighs, “I’m not even half in yet, Sunny. Your game is fun, but can I give it a go now?”

I moan when he flicks my clit with his thumb back and forth. “Yes,” I reply. “Fuck me, Tyler Holiday and never stop.”

He leans in and kisses my mouth. His body shakes, and he leans back up, with one hand on my hip and the other firmly on clit duty, he drives his hips forward. He stops and kisses me again. “Okay?” he rasps, putting both hands beside my head to hold himself up.

“Half in?” I ask, grimacing a little. “It stings a bit, but it still feels more good than anything else.”

He grins against my lips. “That’s as far in as I can go,” he replies, jutting his hips forward to make his point obvious.

“You’re in me,” I exclaim, biting his bottom lip.

He exhales. “I’m all up in you and it feels better than in my dreams.”

“Make love to me now. That’s the plan.”

He withdraws his dick and pushes forward again. I make a loud noise and he stops short. “Did I hurt you?”

With both hands, I grab his ass. “Yes, by stopping. Don’t stop. Keep filling me,” I command. “If you want to please your wife.”

He does exactly that. He keeps kissing my lips, and listening to every moan and sigh I make, but he’s moving against me, with me, inside of me, all over me. We’re connected at the basest level, and every time he thrusts deep, I can’t control my screams. It’s his name. Or something that makes zero sense, or it’s prayers that it never stops, that every moment feels just like this. His lips taste like me mixed with our wedding cake, and while our bodies find their perfect harmonies together in this new act, it still feels familiar. Right.

Tahoe’s neck tightens. “I’m going to come,” he says. “Should I slow down?” I love that he’s controlling this, trying to let me have the best experience possible. His pumps grow deeper, and slower as he waits for me reply.

“Like that,” I say. “Slow and deep.”

He nods, and I can see the resolve in his eyes right before I shut mine to lose myself to the building orgasm. “Fuck me. Just like that,” I say. “It’s hitting the spot,” I tell him, louder than I intended.

“When you talk like that it makes me come quicker,” he says, taking my earlobe in between his teeth. He pumps deliberately now that he knows I’m almost there. “Come,” he says, his breath tickling my ear. “Come now.”

My body tightens and then I come, right on cue. The waves of pleasure concentrated where our bodies are connected. It’s not a blip of an orgasm, it’s a massive, world shaking orgasm. I hold him to my chest and relish this new connection, this new way of expressing just how much we love each other.

“I need to come, Sunny,” he says, reminding me with a gentle nudge. “Where do you want it.”

I remember how he told me he’s never come inside a woman. It’s something he told me when we were painting the hangar. To think, I was shocked by that tidbit back then, and now I’m about to beg him to leak as deep inside me as he can.

“Inside me,” I say.

He closes his eyes on a satisfied smile and begins a comfortable, scorching pace again. It doesn’t take long now that he’s concentrating. He tucks his head into the crook of my neck and his body goes rigid. I’m amazed to feel him flex with each hot burst inside me. It goes on and on for longer than it ever has when I’ve given him blow jobs.

We stay connected, him inside me, while we both catch our breath. It happened. I can’t even begin to process how good it feels. What a different sensation it is to have his big, stunning cock in my body. “I’m going to pull out now and it might hurt a bit. Ready?”

“I’m not made of glass, Holiday.”

He smiles a knowing smile and slides out of me in one swoop. “Ow,” I say, automatically grabbing my vagina with a cupped hand.

He leans up on his knees and looks down at me. “I told you,” he chastens. “How was it? Are you scared of me now?” He takes his dick in his hand and shakes it a couple of times. “Was it what you hoped it would be? That’s a lot of pressure. I thought I was going to blow my load the second I got all the way in there.”

I let my fingers glide over the tender, wet skin as he watches. “I’m surveying the damage to see if there’s any possible way we can do it again right now. I’m glad you held out. It felt so good. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on that. I feel empty now.”

“We have the rest of our lives to play fill the hole. I want to make sure you’re not going to walk funny tomorrow.”

“You came in me,” I remark, grinning. “You’ve never done that before.”

“It’s a day of firsts isn’t it?” he replies. “It felt so good coming inside your tight body. I’m getting hard again just thinking about it.” He does too, his dick growing back to full tilt right before my eyes. “That, I want to do every single day.”

Instead of focusing on the sensitive skin, I rub my clit instead. Tahoe watches, stroking himself as he does. “This marks the best day of my life,” he says, eyes lowered in a mask of lust. “One I don’t want to end. I want to keep it forever.”

“It doesn’t have to end,” I reply. “We’re defining everything from now on. Today doesn’t end. Let’s repeat this every single day for the rest of our lives.”

He grins. “Every single day?” I nod. Tahoe lays next to me on the bed, his hand still on his dick, my slickness still coating him, making his hand slide easily. “That thing you did before. On my abs,” he says, slanting his gaze my way. “Except on this, instead.” Pushing down until it’s standing straight in the air, he sighs. “If you’re up for it, that is. Basically I want to replay every time we ever messed around, except ending it with me inside you.”

“You’re up for it. So am I,” I coo, slinging my leg over his wide hips. I take over holding, and have to lean to one side to position him where I think he’s supposed to be. From this angle, actually seeing it, the size looks harrowing. “Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” I say, meeting his eyes.

He shakes his head. “You can’t do this wrong. If it’s in you, it will always be right. Always.”

I sit down, and to the side and suck in a sharp breath when his head opens me wide. “Right. That’s right. That’s right,” he hisses. “Nothing has ever been more right. Keep going,” he urges.

He closes his eyes and wets his bottom lip. His chest and stomach are rippled to perfection and it seems every muscle in his body is textbook perfect. Looking at him, piece by piece, underneath me, gives me a power I didn’t know I had. He’s mine.

I sit down further, and feel a throbbing jerk deep inside me. I lean over and put my hands on his sculpted midsection and ride him up and down. This feels like a different pleasure, another angle that rubs me just the right way, and I can’t escape the moans of pleasure I know are coming. My clit slides against him, and his huge girth brushes me.

When I meet his gaze, he gives me a lopsided grin. “Every day, yeah?”

“Oh, fuck yes, every day,” I cry out.

“Say fuck again,” he says, narrowing his candlelit eyes.

Riding him, I crawl forward until my lips are balancing just above his. “Fuck me,” I tease, mouth barely brushing his. “I never was good at being your girlfriend,” I breathe, grinding on him in a slow tempo.

He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and pulls. “Because you were always meant to be my wife.”

He said the word. I kiss him hard, and his hands slide from the sides of my face down my body to land on my hips. He guides me to our orgasms, the waves tearing through us at the same exact time.

I lay on top of his chest, listening to his heartbeat for what feels like forever. Though I know it can’t possibly be that long because forever is what you ask for, and right now is all you’re promised.

For us, our love was destined, a mark in time that came hurtling toward us without our consent. Found and lost. Love and loss. Promises and lies. Floating and falling. Forever and never.

Defined simply: happily ever after.