My poor, unconfident almost-husband just fucked my family up with their own weapon. Dad backs down, and I don’t think I’ve ever swooned so hard in my life.
“No one? Going once and all that shit?” Gabe calls, then winks at me. “Lucky. I can’t hear a thing over these damn ear plugs anyway.”
Christian grabs my hand and slides a ring onto my finger. “Almost forgot that.”
“Shocking for us, really.” It’s plain gold, but the way it catches the light has my heart so bloody full. I don’t need a ring, but the weight of it, the importance, is thrilling.
“I now declare Christian and Émile married!”
The band starts playing again, and his line of friends starts hooting and cheering, which of course Elle joins in on. The rest of the room fills with polite applause that I’m only too happy to ignore.
Because the only person I care about in this second is standing right in front of me.
“C’mere, husband,” he says, tugging me into a kiss.
I go to him. Easily. And I have a feeling I always will.
Chapter 34
Christian
We stumble through Émile’s front door, my hands buried in his hair, his cupping my cheeks. Our mouths are soft, all teeth and tongue, both of us ready to take this further but happy to take our time.
Because we have it.
As much damn time as we want.
I can’t stop smiling at the thought.
All night while we went through the charity auction and the dinner, talked to wealthy benefactors and whoever else was there, Émile didn’t let me out of his reach. He was as needy and clingy with me as I was with him, and I’m pretty sure everyone there tonight is already over our blatant PDAs, but if he doesn’t care, then neither do I.
After all, my entire, true family was there, and not one of them was embarrassed by me or judging me. I could be myself for the first time in a really, really long time.
“Take me to the bedroom, love,” Émile mutters against my lips.
I hook my hands under his thighs and lift him off the ground. The satisfied hum in his chest smothers my burning need in happiness. Contentment. Whatever feeling makes my insides too big for my outsides. Makes my body thrum with excess energy, and my arms feel like they might float away.
Émile’s room is a mix of soft gray linen, blue walls, and his own intoxicating scent. I’m surrounded by him everywhere in here and when I drop him back onto the bed, I take a moment to catch my breath, even though I’m hungry for him.In love. I want to take him in my hands and never stop touching.
Émile laughs, so golden and perfect. “I assure you, it’ll be much more enjoyable if you join me down here.”
“In good time.” One corner of my lips hooks upward, and I lean down and unbutton his shirt. Each one I flick open is followed by the soft caress of my thumb and then the barest of kisses over his sternum, his diaphragm, his stomach. Émile’s long fingers twist into the bedsheets and the semi I’ve been rocking for half of the day, thickens behind my fly.
I peel open his shirt and let out a shaky breath. Fuck, he’s beautiful. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, tiny bit of golden chest hair, and perfect, flat nipples.
“I can’t believe we’re married,” I say.
His smile is soft. “For real.”
“And if I have it my way, forever.”
“I love finding a man with similar life goals.”
I duck my head to press a kiss to where his pants have slipped down and his hip bone is exposed. As slowly as my unravelling control will allow, I pop the buttons on his pants and draw his fly down over his straining erection.
Even though my mouth is watering over the idea of blowing him, I redirect my attention to his pants. Pulling them sensually over his thighs, his calves, before I toss them unceremoniously to the floor.
I can’t be fucked to take my time with his briefs and once I’ve yanked those off, my self-control snaps. I lean in and swallow him to the back of my throat.