“That’s not fair! No! Oh God, all right. I am beautiful, okay?”
“Say it again.”
Another tickle. Another scream.
“I am beautiful, you swine. No, stop.”
He took pity on her, dropping her wrists and moving his fingers to his cravat.
“Got to get this off before it strangles me.”
“Aww, it suits you. Such a gent.”
But she helped him loosen the knot and slide the blue-patterned silk from around his neck.
“That’s no gent, that’s your husband,” he said in a wisecracking Brooklyn twang. “Look, we’re both very overdressed. Shall we relieve ourselves of our finery?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Unbutton me.”
She stood up, shrugging off her wrap and presenting her back view to Ben.
“I’ve been wondering all day,” he murmured, unbuttoning slowly down her back towards her hips, “what’s under here. Fuck, why can’t they have wedding dresses with Velcro fasteners? These are so bloody fiddly.”
Vanessa laughed. “Velcro, classy. Maybe I’ll design a line, make my fortune. For the groom who can’t wait.”
“That’ll be me,” said Ben, sliding his hand under the parted material, around to cup her breast in its lacy corset cup. “Can. Not. Wait.” He emphasised his point by pressing his lips firmly to her neck.
She helped him remove the dress, pushing the boned bodice down, letting the yards of silk fall in creamy ripples around her feet.
She’d chosen his favourite underwear especially. The cream lace corset was accompanied by tissue-thin French knickers and hold-up stockings—their elastic helped along by a garter that fulfilled two of the ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’ functions in one.
He growled at the revelation and pulled her closer to him, so that his erection could be felt between her lace-covered bottom cheeks.
Now she felt his fingers creep inside her corset cups, palming her breast, rubbing her nipple, which had been stiff ever since they set foot in this room.
He continued to feast on her neck like a vampire until she laughingly pushed him off. “Don’t give me love bites. I don’t like them.”
“No, I don’t either, come to that,” said Ben.
For a moment, Vanessa regretted the reminder of Dafydd and his bad works. Perhaps not the ideal thing to mention on one’s wedding night.
But then Ben spun her around to face him and put his cheek to hers, resting his lips against her ears.
“That part of your life is over now, Ness. You never have to see or hear from him ever again.
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m free.”
“And I want to say,” he said, drawing his head back so that she could see the seriousness of his face, “that I’m so, so sorry. I let you down. I freaked out when I saw that photograph and I didn’t know what to believe, when I should have believed you.”
“It’s okay. You had a shock. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It should be you beating me up,” he said with a sad smile.
“That’s not my kink,” she said, darting forward to kiss his lips.
“Mmm,” he sighed. “I’m so glad. So, what is your kink, dear wife of mine?”
“I love to seduce gorgeous young men,” she whispered. “Gorgeous young men in morning suits are my particular favourite.”