It was suddenly surreal to be standing bare before him like this. He’d seen me naked thousands of times, and God knows he’d bossed me around like this even more often. But this moment felt so loaded. It wasn’t the easy instinctual sex we had every night. This was Bennett, undressing me and demanding to be similarly stripped so we could have Married Sex in a Fancy Bed in an Emotionally Relevant Room.
The words wedding night, wedding night, wedding night pounded through my head. Maybe this is exactly what he felt in the limo: the pressure of doing it right, making it memorable.
I tried to ignore the way my hand shook when I pulled at his tie and slid it from his collar, but he noticed and he grabbed both of my wrists in one hand. The other slid down my front and between my legs, parting me, sliding a long finger over my clit and dipping into where I was wettest.
“Why are you shaking, Mrs. Ryan?”
With a flash of irritation, I bit his bottom lip when he leaned closer for a kiss. But then I closed my eyes, enjoying for a few moments the way he slid his finger back and forth over the rise of my clit before he stopped, patiently waiting for an answer.
“I’m a little nervous, Mr. Mills,” I admitted.
His eyes went wide, nostrils flaring as he released my hands from his grip. “You? You’re nervous?” He looked like he was on the verge of yelling or laughing, I wasn’t sure which. “You’re nervous with me?”
Shrugging, I said, “It’s just—”
“You’re nervous?” His tone had changed this time; amusement curled through the two, short words. He was definitely on the verge of laughing.
I removed his cuff links, dropping them on the carpet at our feet. “Are you making fun of me?”
He shook his head slowly, but with a devilish smile said, “Yes.”
Taking his shirt in my fists, I pulled it open, hearing the pop of the buttons as they tore free and skittered to the floor. “You’re making fun of your bride on her wedding night?”
His expression straightened and his brow smoothed as I ran my greedy hand down his chest. “Of course I am.”
“What kind of monster are you?” I teased, lightly scratching his stomach.
His answering smile tilted up one half of his perfect mouth. “The kind that’s going to fuck you so hard it’ll look like your legs were put on backwards.”
I laughed, playfully shoving him, and he fought his own smile before bending to kiss me roughly, pressing his tongue into my mouth, sucking, and biting at my lips. “Come on, Chlo. I think we both know I’m pretty easy,” he murmured. “Tend to my cock and the night is a success.”
I ran my hands down his torso, feeling every dip and hard ridge, and shivering when he bent and sucked my jaw, growling into my neck. I pressed into him, loving the feel of his hungry hands down my back, grabbing my ass.
“Get over your ridiculous nerves and fucking undress me,” he hissed, kicking off his shoes and bending to peel off his socks.
I gave his zipper an impatient tug and pushed his dress pants and boxers down to the floor. With his hands on my waist, Bennett backed me to the bed. And then he kneeled in front of me, bracing his hands on my hips and leaning forward to kiss my navel. His wedding ring winked in the dim light of the bathroom.
“We’re married,” he said quietly, pressing another kiss to my belly button. “I’m your safe place. I’ve always been your safe place.”
I slid my hands into his hair, pulling gently and knowing he was right. I’d been my best and worst self with this man, and he only loved me more the more real I was with him. No place was safer for me than with Bennett.
He moved his mouth from one hip to the other, up my ribs, tongue sweeping over my breasts, teeth pulling gently at their peaks. And then he rose to his feet as he kissed up my neck until he towered in front of me, hair hanging over his brow, eyes dark and predatory.
“How many times have we been together like this?”
I shrugged. “Maybe a million?”
“Are you still nervous?” he asked quietly, lifting my left hand and kissing my wedding ring.
I watched his tongue dart out, licking my finger, and whispered, “Not anymore.”