Reckless (Thoughtless, #3) by S. C. Stephens
Chapter 1
TEMPORARY BLISS
I was stirred from sleep by a hand running up my thigh. Smiling, I stretched my tight limbs and placed my palm over the wandering fingers. The hand was warm and soft, and clasped mine, cinching tight. A cool ring of hard metal dug into my skin as he held me in his firm grasp and I smiled wider, fingering the matching band on the ring finger of my hand.
I’d gotten married last night . . . in the spiritual sense, at least. A soul-filled pledge of undying devotion was enough for us right now. And really, a formal ceremony and a piece of paper wasn’t what made a marriage. It was the feeling bursting apart my chest—the overwhelming sensation that I’d been cleaved in two at birth, and, miraculously, I’d managed to find my other half. And even more miraculously, he felt the same.
Soft lips touched my shoulder, and I snuggled further into the body seeking my solace. The sheets wrapped around us were the finest linens I’d ever slept in, but their luxuriousness paled in comparison to the man beside me. With his warm legs tangled around mine, his broad chest flush against my back, and his arms circled over and under me cradling my body to his, he was far more comfortable than the overpriced bed.
Pulling the fingers laced with mine up to my lips, I kissed the promise ring on his left hand. A low chuckle escaped him, then those sensuous lips of his worked their way up my neck. Warm and content, my skin instantly pricked with goose bumps as small bolts of electricity shot right through me.
When he got to my ear, he whispered, “Mornin’, Mrs. Kyle.”
My heart was instantly thudding in my chest. I twisted in his embrace until I could see him. Eyes the color of a twilight sky stared back at me, and a small smile curved his mouth as he searched my features. His face was perfect—the angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips. At the moment, I couldn’t recall anything quite as beautiful as the man who’d just given me his name.
“Good morning, Mr. Kyle.”
A small giggle of disbelief escaped me, and Kellan’s smile widened. The contentment in his eyes was nearly palpable. It warmed my heart that I made him feel that way. He’d had enough pain in his life; he deserved peace. It was all a little surreal to me, the depth of his love, the fact that I inspired it. Sometimes, I didn’t feel worthy of him, but I was grateful for him, every day.
“I can’t believe we just did that, Kellan.”
He cocked an eyebrow, his grin instantly mischievous. “What? Have mind-blowing sex? That really shouldn’t surprise you.” His expression softened into adoration. “Every time with you is incredible.”
Biting my lip, I forced the flush he was making me feel aside. “I wasn’t talking about that.” Reaching up with my free hand, I stroked his jaw with my finger. “I meant getting married.”
Kellan propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me. His gaze slid down to our hands locked together, to the ring encircling his finger. The look of contentment on his face shifted to outright bliss. I’d never seen him happier. “’Til death do us part,” he whispered.
Running my fingers down his chest, the hills and valleys of his absurdly defined body starting to ignite mine, I murmured, “My parents won’t accept you as my husband until you walk me down the aisle, you know.”
Remembering that I’d left them a vague message on the answering machine at Kellan’s place, since they were still in town for my graduation yesterday, I frowned. They were going to be so pissed when they woke up and heard that I’d run off and gotten married without including them. Honestly, I was a little surprised that my phone hadn’t rung yet . . . or that the hotel room door hadn’t been beaten down.
Kellan laughed and repositioned our bodies so that he was lying on top of me. Giving him a soft smile, I ran my fingertips down his back. He shuddered. “And I will. . . .” Leaning down, he placed a kiss on my neck, then my collarbone. My heart sped up. “I will give them the ceremony they want. . . .” Looking up at me, he let his lips trail from my collarbone to the top of my breast. I struggled to not squirm. “I’ll give you the wedding of your dreams, Kiera.”
His lips closed over my nipple then, and all of last night’s passion flooded back to me. As satisfying as our first union as husband and wife had been, I wanted more, I wanted him again. I didn’t think I’d ever stop wanting him in every way that that implied.