Page 129 of Never the Same

The love of his life’s ring for me.

While I hadn’t wanted Solomon’s ring, this one was a symbol of grace and happiness. I could carry my family forward with me in this way and on my terms.

Jason caught my hand and kissed my palm, his lips tickling my sensitive skin. He lifted me easily, carrying me inside.

The lantern light followed us through the open doors as he set me on the edge of the bed and lowered himself to his knees in front of me. His hands moved under the skirt of my dress, to my calves, my thighs. His eyes locked on mine with a heat that made my pulse stumble.

He ducked beneath the dress, and his mouth replaced his hands, a slow burn up the inside of my leg that had me trembling. My fingers buried into his shoulders as he slipped my panties aside and pressed a tender kiss to me there, my breath stuttering.

Panties back in place, he retreated, then rose over me, loosening his bow tie.

“Tease,” I protested.

“Only for you,” he said huskily, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Damn right, only for me.” A soft laugh escaped me, filling the quiet.

His eyes darkened as he undressed with precision, like this was the mission he’d been born for.

The tuxedo fell away piece by piece.

I stood and slipped my dress from my shoulders and let it pool at my feet. I kept on my white lingerie, and he pulled me against him, our vows echoing in the night.

I kissed his neck, and he angled it to give me better access as his hands dragged along my silhouette.

Every touch from him was calculated to unravel me, every kiss deeper, hungrier, until his control slipped.

He moved aside the silk between my legs and pushed two fingers inside me. A gasp ripped from my mouth, caught by his tongue.

He cursed under his breath while pumping his fingers, then dropped to his knees, sliding my panties off completely. His fingertips sank into my thighs as he tasted me like a man starved. He licked and sucked, flicking his tongue, pushing me to the edge without letting me fall.

“I want . . .” I panted, clutching him, “ . . . our first time to be together.”

He gave me one last, slow sweep of his tongue before working his way up my body, taking the time to shift my bra cup over to draw my nipple into his mouth before moving to my neck.

I reached between us and wrapped my hand around him. He swore and fisted my hair gently, tugging my head back as his other hand found my throat.

“I wouldn’t do that. I’ll explode,” he growled before kissing me.

His hand went from my throat to my jawline, his lips following. I forced myself to let go so he wouldn’t come yet.

He lifted me and laid me out on the bed, covering me with his body as his mouth crashed over mine. The kiss was desperate and consuming. The kind that stole the air and returned it as heat.

Impatient hands slowed to skim along my body, racing over my curves, mapping me with calloused palms and reverent touches.

“Be with me,” I pleaded.

He lifted his head, and his brows knitted together as I clung to him, nails raking his shoulders. Finally, he gave us both what we wanted and needed.

My body opened for him, tightening around him as we joined as one flesh. Once I adjusted to his thickness and length, we began to move together with purpose, every thrust threaded with love and months of tension breaking apart in one fierce, shattering release.

Pleasure tore through me, a rush of heat that left me crying out, shaking, undone. He followed with a groan that vibrated against my mouth, his body pressing me deeper into the mattress as he gave himself over completely.

When it was over, he collapsed against me, chest heaving, skin slick. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held me.

We stayed like that for a few quiet minutes before he got up to fetch a warm, wet towel to clean me up. He took his time, eyes blazing as they swept over my body.

“My wife,” he murmured, voice trembling. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll be the man you need, every day of my life.”