Don't Kiss the Bride

I’ve mentally scolded myself at least twenty times a day when I’ve almost given in to the impulse to touch his hand or kiss his cheek.

I’ve held back from snuggling up to him on the couch with Cassie and Gus.

I’ve caught him doing it too—leaning in as if he’s going to kiss me, then suddenly backing away. I’ve felt his eyes on me as I’ve moved around the house.

We’ve forced a separation. But why?

Because of our age difference?

Because of our fears?

Because I felt intimidated by his past?

Because my father convinced me it’s wrong?

None of it seems to matter anymore.

Since we met, every touch, every kiss, every talk between us has come naturally. Effortless in every way. Without motive or expectation.

Isn’t that the way things are supposed to be?

Nothing has ever felt more unnatural and wrong than forcing myself to stay away from Jude.

At night, I lie in bed and ask myself what the hell I’m doing. What we’re doing. The answers used to be so clear.

I’m afraid of getting hurt. I have a deep-seated need to feel free—to have an easy escape. I don’t ever want to trust another person again who might let me down.

But distancing from Jude has unexpectedly fragmented my heart. The mere thought of not having him in my life terrifies me. Not because I’m afraid of being free—I’ve been free since I was eleven years old. But because being with Jude makes me feel complete and whole. Like I’m where I belong.

I believe what he said in the necklace message, and I think Jude is the one who will stay with me. I believe that in my soul and in my bones.

I no longer want to live on the verge of a quick escape plan. I want to go through the rough times with him, rather than running away.

And I especially want to go through the good times with him.

I want the wedding vows to be real. I want us to live them and honor them with our whole hearts, and see where life takes us together.

But I need him to want those things too. And I’m still not sure that he does.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking his damp thumb along my cheek.

I wonder how long I was lost in my thoughts.

“Yes… just enjoying being with you and watching the snow fall.”

He takes a breath so deep I feel his chest press against my back. “I miss you,” he says quietly.

I close my eyes, understanding his words. Being in the same place is not the same as being together.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Pushing my damp hair to the side, he kisses the back of my neck, open-mouthed, hungry, and possessive. His hands move in the water to cup my breasts, squeezing and pushing them together, pinching my nipples between his fingers until they burn and tingle. I arch my back, pushing my tits into his palms and my ass against his cock. He groans wildly in my ear as his hot shaft slides easily against my flesh in the soapy water.

My head falls back against his shoulder and I turn to kiss his neck, nipping at him with my teeth. Water splashes as his hand dives between my thighs like a shark. Two thick fingers zero in on my G-spot, curving upward with precision and rubbing rhythmically. Whimpering, I grip the sides of the tub to steady myself as I rock back and forth, thrusting up into his hand, then back against the ridge of his cock.

He grasps the side of my face and turns me to him. Our lips clash, breathless and needy. He crosses his legs over mine, pinning me down. My body is buzzing, my hips rolling up and down, back and forth. The tip of his thick cock pushes between my ass cheeks, nudging my pulsing entry. I suck his tongue into my mouth, crazy hungry to devour any part of him I can get. Inside me, his fingers swirl against my walls, his thumb perfectly positioned over my swollen clit, flicking and circling me into a trembling frenzy. I push my body harder against his hand and his cock, needing him to fill me and give me release from this sweet torture.

He pulls his mouth from mine. “You’re begging me to fuck that ass, aren’t you?” he growls.

Euphoria has taken over my mind and body like a drug. At this point he can climb into any hole he wants and live inside me forever. “I want you…” I murmur.

Clutching my hair in his fist, he pulls my head back to stare into my eyes. “I want you, too.” He slowly drags his nose down the length of mine. “Put your legs over the sides of the tub,” he whispers.

He untangles his legs from mine, grabs me beneath my knees, and bends each of my legs up over the edge of the tub, spreading me wide over him. I grasp the slippery sides of the porcelain as he lifts me by my hips, positions me over his cock, then lowers me down onto him.