“I promise to choose you for the rest of our lives. To choose you over fear or selfishness. Over ambition or other cares. I promise to never let you down again. To always be there for you. I promise to give you every bit of joy this life has to offer. You are the most incredible man I’ve ever known, and I promise to be the wife you deserve.
“I’m so lucky today. I’m the luckiest person in the world.”
She, too, puts her hand on Henry’s shoulder, still looking up into Dante’s face.
I want to look at Raylan, but I can’t. I know I’m about to cry and I don’t want him to see it.
The tears are partly for Dante and Simone—I’m so, so happy for them.
But they’re also tears of anguish, because I’m realizing that I love Raylan. I truly, truly love him. And that terrifies me.
Simone’s words are like an arrow in my heart.
I promise to choose you over fear or selfishness. Over ambition and other cares.
Is that what love is? Is it putting the other person above your own fears and desires?
I thought that might be the case. And that’s why I thought I’d never fall in love.
But now I have, by accident.
And I want that love. I want Raylan.
I think I might want him more than all the things I wanted before. More than my fears, and yes, even more than my ambitions.
Does that make me weak and pathetic?
Do I have to give up myself to have love?
I feel wetness on my cheeks, and all of a sudden Raylan puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to him, so my face is hidden against his chest. He’s doing that for me—because he knows I’d hate to have anyone see me cry. Even my own closest friends and family.
He knows me so well. He knows exactly what I need.
I remember what he said in Silver Run. I was so angry with him at the time. Now I wonder if he was right all along:
You’re happier here. This is where you belong: here, with me.
I’m afraid. But I want to choose Raylan over that fear.
28
Raylan
The wedding is the loveliest I’ve ever seen. I hope if I get married, it’s in a place like that, with only the people I love the most around me.
After the ceremony, we drink and dance and eat, until everyone is pleasantly exhausted, including Henry and the cantankerous baby Miles, who spits out his pacifier and begins to howl. Callum and Aida hustle him away at top speed, after blowing one last kiss to Dante and Simone.
Riona is quieter than usual. I don’t mind, ‘cause she still asks me to dance. We waltz around under the glass and the stars, the air full of oxygen from all the greenery. This time she doesn’t pull away from me—we dance in perfect tandem, our bodies pressed close together and her head against my chest.
After the ceremony we go back to the Intercontinental Hotel, where I’ve rented a suite for the night. I only hoped to sleep next to Riona—she just got out of the hospital, after all. But as soon as the door closes behind us, she jumps on me, kissing me with all her might.
I have to force myself to kiss her back with a reasonable degree of gentleness. I want to tear that dress right off of her. She’s been driving me insane all night, her skin looking as pale and bright as the moon, next to the rich darkness of the dress. Her hair is like a lava flow down her back, warm and smoky.
She’s never been more beautiful. It’s funny—we were in a room full of gorgeous women, but I only had eyes for her. Riona has a fierceness that grabs me and holds me fast. I want to know what she’s thinking and feeling, always. She’s both blunt, and a mystery. Strong and powerful, but also fragile.
And above all, she’s so goddamned sexy. She’s all over me with an intensity I’ve never seen before. Ripping my shirt open so the buttons pop off, tearing off my pants.
I lift her up and throw her down on the bed, equally desperate to have her.
When I kiss her mouth, she tastes of champagne.
“You weren’t supposed to drink!” I accuse her. “When did you get champagne?”
“I only had a sip,” she says. “While you were congratulating Dante and Simone.”
“You naughty little thing,” I growl, seizing her by the throat—though not too hard. “How should I punish you?”
I pull down the front of her dress and take her breast in my mouth. I suck her nipple hard, until she squeals.
“Stop that!” she cries, slapping me away.
I grab both her hands and pin them over her head. Then I return to her breasts, noting that both her nipples are standing up straight, tightening her breasts.
Lightly, I trail my tongue around her nipples, without taking them in my mouth. I tease them with my tongue until her arms are shaking in my grip.
“Stop?” I say. “Or keep going?”
“Keep going,” she gasps.
“Say, ‘Please, Daddy,’ ”
She scowls at me, and I could laugh out loud at the pleasure of teasing her. I knew she’d hate that. I flick her nipple with my tongue, making her moan in frustration.
“Please, Daddy!” she says, petulantly.
I close my mouth around her nipple again and I suck, gently. I caress her breast with my tongue, until she gives a long, groaning sigh of satisfaction.
Then I slide down her body and go to work between her legs, instead. I put her legs up on my shoulders and I eat her pussy until I feel her thighs clenching around my head, her hands thrust in my hair, and her clit grinding against my tongue. My mouth is full of the sweet and fiery taste of her, like cinnamon and sugar, like pure, raw arousal.
I’ve never tasted anything so good. I could spend hours down here.
I let her control the pace for a while, rolling her hips against my tongue. Then, when I can feel she’s close to the edge, I grab her hips in my hands and I increase the pressure of my tongue. I lick faster and harder until she’s gasping, until she digs her fingernails into my scalp, screaming, “Oh my god! Oh my gooooood!”
She’s still half-wearing her dress, and my shirt is still on, though torn open. I don’t care. I like us half-dressed. I like the look of her, clothes pulled up, hair wild and messy, makeup smeared. I love the immediacy, the impatient lust that won’t let us take even another second to properly undress.
I flip her over and I enter her from behind, me sitting back on my heels, and her on my lap, sliding up and down on my cock. Sinking myself inside of Riona is pure fucking heaven. The feel of her is addictive. The taste and scent, too.
She’s sitting up and I pull her back tight against my chest, my hands on her bare breasts. I caress her tits as I fuck her from behind, squeezing and pulling on her nipples. I gather the whole of her breasts in my hands and they fit perfectly, the way every part of her fits me.
I grab her hair and pull her head back, so I can kiss the side of her neck. I bite her gently, and suck on the tender skin, my other hand still fondling her breasts.
I leave marks everywhere I touch her. Her skin is so delicate that I can see the flushed imprints where I squeeze her breasts, where I bite her neck. It makes me want to whip her again, just for the pleasure of seeing those red welts on her flawless ass. It makes me want to tease and torture every inch of her body.
I love how wild it makes her. The more I push her, the more she wants. She can’t get enough of it. She’s riding my cock, her head pulled back with my hand wrapped up in her hair. She presses my hand tighter against her breast, begging me to squeeze harder, to torment her sensitive little nipples.