She blinked up at me, surprised. “And you’re mine, Keaton. Don’t forget that.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?” The sight of her crying during our ceremony still stuck with me, concerning me.
“Little late now to take it all back. And yes, I’m fine, Keaton. I’m choosing to think of this as an adventure, an experiment, if you will.”
“I’m happy to be your test subject. I admit I was a little worried that you might change your mind and not show up at all.”
“I hardly had time to think, between filming and dress fittings. Otherwise, with time on my hands, I’d have been reconsidering this whole plan.”
“When I saw you start down that aisle, walking toward me, and so beautifully…” I had no words to describe that moment in time. I touched my forehead to hers. “Thanks for going through with it.”
“You’re welcome.” She closed her eyes as the song came to a close.
I twirled her out and back into my arms. Everyone clapped and begged to see us kiss once more. If I believed in such things as fairy tales, this might be as close as I could get to one.
Not that I considered myself a charming prince.
Then the lights went up, and I heard Melanie call out, “That’s a wrap. We got everything we needed here. Now for the final shots as the happy couple proceeds to their suite for the night.”
Three takes of me carrying Sophie over the threshold and to our red rose-petal covered bed was two takes too many in front of the camera crew. I was ready to take my bride to bed, and over my dead body would that show up on national TV.
“You got enough to work with,” I growled when Melanie demanded one more shot. I pretty much shoved them all out the door of our suite.
Finally alone, Sophie and I shared a glance and we both breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.
“We did it,” she said. It was late, my buzz was gone, but my desire for her grew stronger by the minute.
Sophie groaned and kicked off her heels. "My feet are killing me.”
I loosened my tie and sat on the couch. I cracked the knuckles in each hand, wiggling them. “Lucky for you I came prepared. My fingers are ready. Come here. ”
“Perfect,” she chuckled and sat. Her feet landed in my lap and I went to work, easing her suffering thanks to the tall stilettos she wore all night.
“We should probably talk about how we’re going to handle the next ninety days,” she suggested between tiny moans as I kneaded the balls of her feet.
“You want to know what I think?”
She smirked. “You’re all for spontaneous acts of combustion?”
“It’s pretty amazing how much you know me so well already.” A crooked smile smoldered on my lips. Once I felt her feet were satisfied I moved higher, under her dress, up her calves, past her knees and thighs. “My fingers can do even more to please you.”
She stopped my progress. “This gown is so tight, they practically painted it on me. I don’t think I can spread my legs for you while I’m in it.”
“You know the remedy for that. Take it off.” I dipped my voice an octave lower, scanning her body.
She stood and crossed to a mirrored closet door. I watched her reflection in the glass as she twisted and tried unzipping the back of it.
“If you want your husband to help, just ask nicely,” I prodded.
Her response was a husky, seductive purr that sent shivers down my spine. “Please?” She purred. How could I say no?
I stalked up behind her, unable to resist the temptation any longer. Slowly, I dragged the zipper down, revealing more and more of her bare skin with each inch. My pulse thundered in my ears as we locked eyes in the mirror. The heat between us like we were the last man and woman on Earth.
She stepped out of the gown and hung it up before swiveling around to face me in a white lace bustier and thong. Our bodies met in a searing embrace, our skin pressed tight against each other's.
“Guess we’ll never need the pillow wall again,” she chuckled and gathered the red rose petals that had formed a heart shape on the bed.
I circled my arms around her. "No walls between us. From this day forward.