Blake drops my legs so my feet hit the floor but doesn’t release me from the beautiful assault of his tongue.
I moan and pull back to meet his eyes, which are hooded and practically glowing emerald. “Are you going to rob me of my first look around this fancy hotel room?”
He shrugs off his tux jacket without leaving my space. His eyes roam my neck, jawline, and breasts. “’Fraid so. You’ll have to take in the sights when you’re on all fours.” He steps close, wound up tight after today, and I step back out of instinct. “Study the ceiling when you’re on your back.” Having already removed his tie earlier, he moves to unbutton his black dress shirt. “Check out the view while I’m taking you on your side.”
My stomach tumbles and melts down low. I step back again, only to have him chase me down. His hands move to the swell of my breasts, which are now heaving and practically spilling over my corset top. He traces the line of my cleavage. “Want this off, but the way I’m feeling, I don’t want to rip it.”
A giggle burns in my chest but dies before it hits my lips. I turn around and pull my hair over one shoulder while he slowly unlaces the delicate fabric and pushes it down around my hips and then to the floor. The cool air hits my body and I shiver. He must’ve chucked his shirt, because I feel his bare skin against my back and his hands slide around my belly.
I’ve lost most of the baby weight I’d gained during pregnancy, but my tummy isn’t as flat or tight as it used to be. Now to accompany the C-section scar I got bringing Axelle into the world, I’ve got a few extra stretch marks too, but I’d never know it from the way Blake feasts his eyes on me.
If anything, he seems more attracted to me now that I’ve got the battle wounds of childbirth marking my body. He treats them like medals, symbols of valor that he insists on worshiping with his hands and lips whenever we make love.
“No bra?” He cups my swollen breasts, still larger from breastfeeding.
I tilt my head and allow him better access to my throat and jaw. “The top of my dress held everything in place, and I had to pump a couple times. No bra equals easy access.”
The vibration of his laughter rolls across my skin in a sensual caress. “Easy access is my favorite, Mouse.”
His mouth continues its torturous exploration while his hands drop lower and trace the line of my lace panties. I moan as his fingers slip below the delicate fabric and move straight between my legs. I bite my lip and roll against his hand, hoping he picks up on my unspoken request.
He nuzzles my neck, nips my ear, and then freezes. “You sure we left Axelle and my parents with enough milk?”
I blink open my eyes and feel cool air hit my upper back as he leans to meet my glare.
“The pediatrician said he’d have a growth spurt at six months. I’d hate it if he burned through all you pumped and didn’t have—”
“Blake”—I drop my chin to my chest—“we’ve been over this.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
I turn around, losing his hand that was between my legs, not that it matters since this conversation has doused my arousal. He opens his mouth, but I put my finger to his lips.
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s our wedding night. I’ve had to look at you all night and imagine all the dirty things you’d do to me once we were finally in our room, and I refuse to allow you to ruin it by worrying.” He kisses my finger, and I drop it from his lips with no intention of allowing him to continue before I set the ground rules. “First, no mention of any of our parents. Let’s face it. They’re the last people we should be thinking about when we’re naked. Our kids are a close second, but we can’t not talk about them, so let’s save them for post-lovemaking conversation. And third, for the hundredth time, Jack has plenty of milk, and they’re staying in the same hotel, so if worse comes to worse, Axelle can bring him to us.” I hold out my hand and make a show of dropping the mic.
He tilts his head, one eye squinting. “You’ve been imagining all the dirty things I’d do to you?”
“Seriously? That’s all you heard?” I huff out a breath, blowing a strand of my long hair off my face. “Yes, I have. I figured you had big wedding night sex plans. I’d hoped they’d have nothing to do with discussions about pumping milk.”
He sifts his thick fingers through my hair and cups my head. “Oh I do, baby.” He doesn’t close his eyes as he drops small kisses all over my face. “And they start with”—more kisses—“a long bath in that Jacuzzi.”
I suck in a breath and lean to see behind him and into the bathroom. “We have a Jacuzzi?”