“Not until you say yes.”
“Yes. God, yes, Roman.”
“I’m sorry we’re not somewhere special, I just had to—”
She places her finger against my lips, shaking her head. “It’s perfect. I don’t need wine and rose petals, I just need to know that you want me.”
“Always, baby. I mean it. I’m never letting you go.” I push the ring onto her finger, breathing a sigh of relief at the symbolism. She’s tied to me now.
“This ring is beautiful. It must have cost a fortune.”
“It did, many, many years ago. My grandmother gave me that ring, the only family member on my father’s side I ever actually cared about.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I was angry with her when she told me I wasn’t like them. Turns out, she saw me for who I was, not what my father and grandfather wanted me to be.”
“She sounds special.”
“She was, baby. She passed away five years ago, but I’ll never forget her. She would have been happy to see me with you. Somewhere, she’s looking down right now, laughing her head off at the mess I made of all this.”
Safi grins, looking at the door hanging half off its hinges. “What mess?” she asks, and leans in, resting her head against my chest.
And as I turn, I place a kiss on her forehead.
Mine.
Epilogue
Safi
One Month Later
Roman thrusts inside me, nearly splitting me in two as I scream into the open night sky. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the sheer size of him. He’s large all over, a giant in every way, but his cock is out of proportion even for a giant. As I screech with joyful agony, an owl returns my call from somewhere out on the golf course, connecting me in that moment of bliss to the earth and all its inhabitants, our lovemaking just another expression of mother nature’s endless wonder.
“Gonna make you mine,” he grunts with another thrust, making the lounger scoot across the paving. “This pussy is mine tonight. I own it. I’m going to make sure you know it.”
Panting heavily, I lean my head back, exposing my neck, knowing what he will do next. It’s a part of our power play. He needs to know he’s in control, that I’m fully and completely beholden to him. The nip of his teeth into that sensitive flesh makes me cry out, and I almost come right there and then. My body quivers and I have to hold on, but I know not to tip over the edge without his permission.
“Who owns you?”
“You…ohhhh…you do, Mr. Schalk,” I reply, barely holding it together.
“Fucking right, Mrs. Schalk.”
We were married six hours ago, by the river, and if we’re not back inside the casino in the next thirty minutes I’m sure someone will try to send a search party. Clarissa will be hobbling along on her crutches, Tara at her side. Teri will be wheeling Max in his wheelchair, their kids following on behind. They’ll be blocked by his mom though, I know that for certain. She gave me a knowing wink as Roman dragged me by the hand, away from them all, to our own little private sanctuary that used to be the guesthouse.
Not anymore.
Roman has added a whole new wing to the house, containing more bedrooms, a larger kitchen and an office for himself. More bedrooms. I’m not even pretending I don’t know what that means, and I couldn’t be happier.
“There’s something I…something I…oh, God!” My body quivers, my core undulating, and I squeeze every muscle I have trying to hold on. As I do, Roman growls, his body barely moving, sweat pouring from his brow.
“Too fucking tight. I’m never going to get used to how small this pussy is.”
I choke out a laugh, shaking my head. “Don’t stop. Please…”
He grunts as he thrusts again, a sudden flood of my cream lubricating the way for him, and I wonder if I’ve made a mess of the cushion beneath me or if he’s plugged me so tight it can’t escape. One thing I’ve discovered, I’m a bit of a squirter. When I get really excited, which is every time with Roman, my orgasms are literally explosive. I have no idea where it comes from, but it’s sticky and messy and Roman absolutely loves it. He says it’s his special gift, and who am I to deny him?
“Something I have to tell you…” I murmur, trying to pick up my previous thought.
“Later, baby.”
I shake my head as he leans forward, held above me on those strong arms, taking my lips in his. I fall into that kiss, wrapped in it, comforted. His lips are rough to my smooth, and sometimes when I use my tongue I can feel the harsh ridge of his scar. I love it. It’s a part of him and it means everything to me.