Forever Lucky (Lucky In Love)

While the mere thought of being his wife makes me happy, now is not the time to process all that that means. I’m pretty sure I look like a raccoon, and my face is bleeding from this giant rock. There is enough blood that I probably need Neosporin and a bandaid, if not stitches. I am feeling emotions I’ve never felt before... I feel like complete shit and probably look worse, but he’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.

I find it hard to believe I just met this man, my husband, yesterday. I had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t last, but I’d give anything to be wrong about that.

Cillian is a man among men, and while I don’t know him as well as I should, I can’t help feeling like this is not the mistake it seems to be. I can only hope that I am right about that.

“How can you know that? Where will we live? I don’t have a job. I can’t contribute. I’ve never lived with a man,” I say, suddenly looking down at the sheets. “Fuck. We ruined the sheets.”

“Baby, this is Vegas. There’s so much blood and semen in these hotel rooms, it's no wonder CSI picked this place as their setting,” he says, and I burst out laughing. There is no way in hell he’s going to think I’m sane. “There, that’s better.” He pats my back.”

“But the sheets are mortifying.” I tap my thigh three times, trying to comfort myself, but I can’t really move my arm when it’s pinned to my side like this.

“These sheets are proof positive that you’re mine. Do you remember what I said when I claimed you last night?”

“Yes. Of course.” I’ll never forget those words. No amount of alcohol or shame will ever erase his filthy words from my mind.

“Well?”

“You said, and I quote, You are mine now, Ocean Breeze. This cunt is mine and…” I feel myself blush at the memory. His lips were pressed against my neck, and his cock was buried deep inside me. He stopped when he took my virginity; he growled, maybe howled, like a man possessed.

“And?”

“And you’ll kill anyone who even looks at me funny.”

“Exactly,” he says, kissing the top of my hair. I must have used a can of hairspray last night that can’t taste good.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” I say, pulling away from him. I just need a moment to myself. I need to think, and I can’t do that with him in my space, tempting me. He lets me go, but not before kissing me like it’s the end of the world.

“I’ll order breakfast,” he says. I nod and walk away from him. In the marble fortress that this fancy hotel calls a bathroom, I sit down on a fabric-covered bench and cry. Again. Crying is pretty much the only thing in my arsenal. Happy equals crying. Sad equals crying. Mad equals frustrated crying. What did I do to deserve him? I want to be sure I strive to earn him for the rest of my life. He told me that he’d never been with anyone before, but I don’t know if I believe him. That was just too epic to be his first time. He’s too gorgeous. Too rugged. To something that I can’t quite identify. Finally, I turn the shower on and step inside. All of my toiletries are lined up neatly on the ledge. In the exact manner I had them in the room I was supposed to stay in. When did he do this? I’m musing over his thoughtfulness when I feel a breeze inside the glass shower.

I’m not prepared for him to step into the shower behind me, but I melt into him nonetheless. Without a word, he grabs my shampoo bottle off of the ledge and squeezes some into his hand. Deftly, he washes my hair, massaging my scalp in the process. I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed. I don’t even protest when he goes right for the conditioner instead of letting me wash my hair two more times. Then he washes my body, and he’s so careful and tender that I almost cry again, but I force myself to just feel what he’s doing to me instead.

“Let me,” I say when he’s done and moves to wash himself. I give him the same slow, deliberate attention, touching everywhere but his hard cock. Finally, I put some soap on my hands and grab his cock, pumping my fist up and down the shaft until he groans.

“Fuck, lass. I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” I say, dropping to my knees in front of him, with my mouth hanging open.

“Fuck, baby. You look like a goddess down on your knees for me,” he growls. Any traces of soap are long gone, so I pull him into my mouth. Seconds later, he fills my mouth, and I swallow every drop of the precious seed he gives me.