Don't Kiss the Bride

She grabs her laptop, slams it closed, and tosses it on the cushion next to her.

In a quick motion, I scoop her up in my arms and sit her on the back of the couch, facing me. I stand between her legs, and with a smile, she pulls off my dusty sweatshirt, then reaches to undo my jeans. Going in for another long kiss, I kick off my boots. Her bare foot pushes my jeans down, and I hurriedly step out of them and yank her sweater up over her head. She grips my arms as I grab the waistband of her jeans and pull them off without bothering to unzip them.

I glance down to see kitten-faced panties equipped with little fuzzy fabric ears sticking up from the waistband.

“Did you wear these for me, you little imp?” I hook my fingers in the thin straps and pull them off her.

She giggles. “Of course.”

“I’m keeping them.”

She wraps her long, toned legs around me and pulls me in, reaching down to cup her hand around my cock. Grabbing the back of my neck with her other hand, she tugs me back to her lips.

“You’re so fucking hard,” she whispers, making my dick twitch in her hand.

I stroke her pussy, and she all but purrs and writhes against my hand. “And you’re so fuckin’ wet.” I bite her lip, and she lets out a little sexy yelp.

Hooking her heels into my ass, she guides my cock into her pussy and arches back, gripping my shoulders as I sink my shaft deep into her. I bow my head to feast on her uplifted breasts, flicking my tongue over her perfect nipples.

She breathes my name as she moves her hips up and down to meet my thrusts. Her tight walls pull me in, my balls slap against her pink flesh, the sound of rhythmic, wet suction an erotic chorus between us.

Grabbing her throat, I pull her up to me and kiss her deep, delving my tongue into her mouth until I own her every breath. She pants against my mouth with her small hands splayed across my hips.

I pull out almost completely, and she gasps in frustration. Resting the tip of my cock against her entry, I cup her face in my hands and kiss her lips softly, then pull away, hovering just millimeters from her mouth. Slowly, I push into her just a fraction. Her wet lips envelope me, deliciously tight and hot.

“Give it to me,” she begs.

“Look at me,” I whisper. She opens her eyes and stares into mine, and I watch her eyelids flutter half-closed when I feed my cock into her inch by inch. She looks so fucking beautiful and sensual, it takes all my self-control not to cum instantly. She lets out a satisfied moan when my cock is finally completely buried in her, and I rock myself against her, slowly stoking the building passion.

Reaching up, she winds her arms around my neck and clasps her hands together. “I love you,” she murmurs breathlessly.

“I love you, Sparkles.”

When I feel her tighten and tremble around me, I capture her lips and kiss her through it, spilling myself into her for the first time, so fuckin’ glad we don’t have to stop or pull away or have latex between us anymore.

Moments later, she rests against my chest and I stroke my hands up and down her spine as we catch our breath.

“I missed you today,” she says softly.

“I see that.” I tip her chin up and touch my lips to hers. “I missed you, too.”

Silently, I pick her up and carry her upstairs for round two in a nice, hot shower.

Later, we’re lying in bed watching a movie in matching white tees and gray sweats, looking at the digital floor plans of our new house. A vanilla-cookie-scented candle burns from the top of the dresser. Gus and Cassie are sleeping at the foot of our bed.

I’ve never felt so domestic.

I’ve never been so happy.

“I’ve been thinking…” she says softly, closing the space between us to cuddle up into my side.

I put my arm around her. “Okay…”

“I don’t want a wedding.”

Worry whips through me. Did she change her mind about me, after all?

I clear my throat and brace myself. “You don’t?”

“No. I loved our wedding day. I don’t want another one.”

I’m surprised. And relieved as hell. I thought all women wanted a wedding with the white dress with the veil and the long train with lots of guests and food and music.

“Babe, are you sure?” I ask. “I thought you wanted a real wedding?”

“Actually, I never wanted one until the day I was standing in front of you in the backyard. That became my dream wedding.” She cranes her head up to look at me. “That was our real wedding. It’s the only memory I want of marrying you.”