“The way you did my innocence?” I asked in his ear.
He pushed me harder up against the wall but didn’t enter me. “All I did was claim you. But you were already mine, weren’t you, Birdy?”
He started to press inside me, stealing my breath as he made me wait. “Yes,” I said, looking up at the ceiling.
“Now it’s official. Now, you’re mine to lick and suck and fuck—anywhere, any time.”
I pushed down onto him, but he slowed me by holding my hips. “Please, Manning.”
“Lake.”
I took my eyes from the ceiling to look at him. “Please.”
“Tell me you’re with me,” he said. “That you understand what this is, right here—what it means to me.”
I breathed through my mouth, my mind racing to keep up. Manning going crazy enough for the both of us, deciding when and how to fuck me, talking me into a frenzy—none of that was new. The difference tonight was that I’d stood in front of everyone we knew and made him mine. “You and I are official,” I said to him. “You’re my husband.”
“You’re my wife. Now tell me what you want.”
“I want to be claimed and consumed and made love to by my husband. First against the wall because he can’t wait. Then on the bed he built us. Our bed.”
He thrust halfway in. I arched my back, keeping my eyes on his because he would’ve demanded it anyway.
“I want us to be married in every sense of the word,” I continued.
“Fuck, Lake,” he nearly begged, gripping my hips. He was so big that it always took time—and patience neither of us had. “I can’t believe, after all these years, I haven’t fucked you right open.”
I bit my lip, groaning as I urged him deeper, my heels digging into his ass. “You fuck me open every time.”
Manning plunged the rest of the way in. I held onto his shoulders as he took me, his hot, urgent mouth on mine. His powerful thrusts and skilled fingers brought me to the edge as his lips wandered down my neck. But it was catching sight of us in the floor-length mirror, the groom in his suit, fucking his willing bride in her dress, that brought me to climax.
Manning saw me through my orgasm, then carried me to our bed. He lay me on my back, standing between my legs with determination in his eyes. Still inside me, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth. He hadn’t come, and he didn’t want to—not yet. We had a long night ahead of us.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to get him to. I took his tie with both hands, sliding it through one fist and then the other. “How do you want to come, Bear?” I panted. “In my mouth? My ass?”
His eyes darkened. “I’ve never come in your ass, and you look far too sweet—and I’m far too eager—to start tonight.”
“When did any of that stop you before?”
“You want to play?” he asked. “Flip over.”
My bravado came from tying the knot, plain and simple. I felt empowered being Manning’s wife. But the truth was, we hadn’t yet ventured into that territory, even though I knew from some of Manning’s heat-of-the-moment dirty talk that he was into it. I’d always figured that day would come, and though Manning had claimed me for real today and was about as turned on as I’d ever seen him, I wasn’t sure our wedding night was the right time for this.
“What’s wrong, Goldilocks?” he asked, sliding his hands up my thighs and under my dress as he peeled down my thong. “Suddenly scared you wandered into the wrong bear’s house?”
I shivered, my nipples hardening into firm pink peaks. “I don’t know if I’m ready for . . .”
“For?”
“Anal.”
He grinned devilishly, tossing aside my panties. “You’re not. But get on all fours anyway.”
I didn’t need to ask myself if I trusted him. If he said we wouldn’t do it tonight, I believed him—but what did he have planned, then? As Manning removed his boots, I got on my hands and knees, turning away from him. “Why am I in this position?”
“Why do you think?” I heard him whip his belt from its loops, then the rustle of his clothing. “Hike that dress up, Lake.”
The belt didn’t scare me. He’d sometimes spank me in the heat of the moment, but with his father’s history of violence, he’d never hit me—that much I knew. I pulled my dress up over my backside. Manning had seen me in every position, from every angle, and maybe that was why the wedding dress excited us both—it reintroduced a layer of innocence to our sex life that we’d stripped away years ago.
He ran his palm over my ass cheek, then gently slapped it. “Mmm.”
“What was that for?” I asked, already breathless.
“Allowing someone to play Justin Timberlake at our wedding.”