CHAPTER 29
MADOC
As soon as we left Sovereign’s, Fallon and I drove to the Waldorf Astoria for our honeymoon night. Tate thought we should all go out to dinner, but Jared got the hint.
The whole drive there, as the valet took the car, and during check-in I kept rubbing the inside of my pinky finger over the flat fit platinum wedding band. The discomfort of something new when I never wore jewelry—except for my piercing—contrasted to the hum I felt in my hand.
It was weird, but it was also powerful.
The ring reminded me that I was Fallon’s. It reminded me that I was her protector, her lover, and her partner.
Eventually it occurred to me that the ring also meant I couldn’t come and go as I like, I couldn’t look at other women, and I was probably the only person in my high school graduating class that had a wife already, but I didn’t care much about what others thought now.
I was cool with this. It was right for us.
By the time we reached the elevator, Fallon’s hands were doing things that technically weren’t allowed in public, and I was really fucking glad Jared and Tate had given us space.
Fallon had her hand under my coat, kneading my lower back. She was burying her nose in my chest as I walked with my arm around her. Her eyes were looking up at me saying everything that was in her head but couldn’t leave her lips.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, I pushed her into the wall and leaned down into her face, her hot breath rushing against mine.
“Fallon Caruthers,” I challenged, pushing hard against her body. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?”
Her fingers started working the button of my shirt under my open jacket. “I’m sorry,” she panted against my lips. “I’m just really ready for my husband right now.”
And all at once her hands were inside my shirt, all over my bare chest, and my bottom lip was between her teeth. I grabbed her by the back of her thighs and hauled her up against the wall, diving into her mouth and tasting the raw heat that sent my cock jerking and hardening. I needed to get these fucking clothes off of her.
“And I’m not changing my name,” she said between kisses.
I felt the laugh in my throat that I thought would be a really bad idea to let loose right now.
It was my wedding night. I wanted to get laid, after all.
“Yes, you will,” I stated matter-of-factly as I put my hand between her legs and rubbed.
The elevator stopped, and I dropped her feet to the floor. Thank God no one was outside the doors, because we were flushed and breathless.
Dragging her by the arm, I dug the card key out of my coat pocket.
“Well, I’ll hyphenate it then,” Fallon mumbled behind me, and I took a second to remember she was talking about our last names.
“No, you won’t.” I slipped the key in, opened the door, and pulled her in. “Hyphenating your name is like saying ‘I just don’t want to admit defeat’ when the truth is women who hyphenate their names have already lost. Men don’t hyphenate their names.” I pointed out, slamming the door behind me as I dug my slow heels into the plush carpet, stalking her. “Now. You are going to be Fallon Caruthers, because you love me, you want to make me happy, and you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
She had about enough time to drop her jaw and for anger to flare in her eyes before I was on her. Taking the hair at the back of her head, I pulled it down to expose her neck, and I sunk my lips and teeth in, biting and kissing so hard and soft that she wouldn’t know which end was up.
Truth was I was an easygoing guy. For the most part. But my wife would have my name, or else.
It wasn’t about controlling her, and it wasn’t about stealing her identity or whatever women liked to claim these days. It was about unity. We and our kids someday would have the same goddamn name, and that was it.
Hopefully she knew when some battles weren’t worth fighting.
And that’s when it hit me.
I pulled back and closed my eyes, running my hands through my hair.
Kids.
“Shit,” I groaned. “I forgot condoms.”
I heard her sympathetic exhale that sounded almost like a laugh. I looked up, scowling. This wasn’t funny. I was harder than a rock right now.
“I’m sorry.” She waved away the angry expression on my face. “We’re fine, Madoc. I’ve been on birth control for a long time, actually. Ever since . . .”
Her eyes dropped.
The knot in my heart twisted tighter and tighter, and without hesitation, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Ever since the abortion, she was going to say.
Since I’d found out about it, I’d had a hell of a time figuring out how I felt about it. I wished we’d had the kid, but I’m glad we didn’t. Which didn’t make sense, but it kind of did.
On the one hand, I hated that Fallon had to go through that. I hated that we weren’t more careful. I hated that she was alone. I hated that someone else—someone I hate—made a decision about my kid without me.
On the other hand, I knew we were too young. I knew it probably would’ve changed our lives in a way that wouldn’t have been beneficial. I knew that I wanted a house full of kids someday, but I didn’t want them yet.
Final verdict: I’ll be a good father. And I’m glad I get to wait to find out for sure.
Setting Fallon down next to the bed, I planted my lips on her, damn near chewing on her I was in so much need, and ripped off my coat and shirt. After I’d kicked off my shoes, I started working the button and zipper of her jeans.
“No,” I growled low when she started undoing her shirt. “Leave it on. I undress you tonight.”
Slipping my hands inside the back of her jeans, I couldn’t help but run my hands up and down her smooth ass in her thong. As I pushed her pants down her legs and bent down to slide her shoes and jeans off, I breathed out a long breath, thankful she wasn’t doing anything right now.
As much as I wouldn’t change the nights we spent together years ago, I needed to redeem myself. A little more, at least. Going after her like a starving pubescent teen who can’t hold his load wasn’t how this night was going to go.
Slow.
She wore a tiny black thong, and her white blouse fell just below her hips. She looked down at me, heat and patience in her eyes, and just waited for me to make my move.
Unbuttoning her shirt, I felt the quick and shallow rise and fall of her chest under my hands. Sliding it down her arms, I kept it clenched in my fist and tightened as I felt a surge of blood rush to my cock.
She wore a matching black see-through bra, which I didn’t expect. The white blouse didn’t reveal it. Her breasts were perfectly visible through the sheer material, and I rubbed my hand over her hard nipple.
I touched her face, my thumb running along her bottom lip. “You’re a dream.”
She opened her mouth and took my thumb in, sucking on the length, drawing it out slowly. Every nerve in my body hummed like it had just fallen asleep.
Taking my hand back, I reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, pulling it forward and letting it drop to the floor. Then I took the blouse still in my hand and threw it behind her and slipped it up her arms again.
As I met her eyes, I saw the question there, but what can I say? I used to give her crap about her clothes and how much she’d hide, but it turns out I liked girls with mystery.
Pushing her down to the bed with a soft hand, I guided her to lay back and then slid her thong down her legs.
Coming to hover over her, seeing one of her breasts peeking out of the open shirt, I couldn’t help my strained voice. “I want to see you in this shirt tonight, Fallon. In only this shirt. All night and every time I make you come.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, but before she had a chance to say anything, I slipped a finger into her scorching heat, loving the little moan that came out of her and the way her head fell back.
Everywhere my finger touched was like a shot to my groin. She coated my middle finger so tight that it felt like it was in glove. I pushed in and out, completely turned on by how she pushed into my hand, grinding for more. Her moans turned to mewls, and I added another finger, barely feeling the strain in my other arm as I supported myself.