“We don’t,” Mickey answers, shaking his head. “Only best men give speeches, and we weren’t even invited to the wedding, so that means no one gets to hear our inside jokes or witty musings.”
I roll my eyes at their dramatics. “My sincerest apologies for not inviting you to my spur-of-the-moment wedding,” I volley back sarcastically.
Deano shrugs. “Dude, I’m kinda surprised you made it back in one piece. I heard Booker almost lost his shit.”
Mickey nods his head. “I can’t blame him. I will personally stab out the eye of any fucker who flirts with my sister, so I know what he’s going through. And yeah, Fallon’s awesome, so if you upset her, I’ll happily stick your balls in a vise. The thing is, I’m one hundred percent sure she’ll kick your sorry ass to the curb if you piss her off too many times, so you probably don’t need threats from me. You still have them, though.”
“Fair enough,” I say, smiling.
“We’re really not here to harass you, Olls,” Deano says. “We just wanted more pizza and we want to know what you want us to do with your suitcases.”
“What? I only took a duffle on the trip, and I’ll sort it out later,” I say, grabbing some napkins.
“No, not from this weekend, from your room,” Deano clarifies, except there’s nothing clear about what he’s saying.
“My room? What the hell are you talking about?”
Mickey nabs a slice right off my plate and takes a bite. “You and Fallon are married now, and her room’s bigger, so we all just figured you’d move in there. The freshman packed up all your stuff and converted your old room into a gaming paradise.”
“Our flight was only a couple hours behind yours. How the hell did they manage that?” I know my voice is getting higher and louder with every word, but I don’t care.
“Those guys know the meaning of teamwork,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
I wander down the hallway wondering what Fallon’s going to think of our new living arrangement. Telling me she wants to sleep with me is one thing. Sharing closet space with me is another.
When I step into her room though, my mind goes completely blank. I set our food down on the nearest flat surface because I’m suddenly incapable of forming any thought other thanHoly shit, my wife is hot.
She’s standing by the window, her long, thick hair flowing down her bare back. When she turns to face me, I get a glimpse of the flimsy scrap of silk that’s out here doing the Lord’s work of keeping her full, perfect breasts contained.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say to her as my feet eatup the space between us. I can see that she still has her hearing aids in, but I make sure to maintain eye contact so she can read my lips. If we’re really doing this, there’s no reason to hold back.
“You’re hot as hell and you know it,” she says. “But you’d be a lot hotter if you stripped out of those clothes.”
I’ve wanted Fallon since the night I met her, and that’s only intensified in the years since. When I woke up next to her this morning my body felt like it was on fire. And when she confessed on the plane that she wants to make this marriage real in every way? Well, I was on the verge of joining the Mile High Club all by myself for coming in my pants. But now, standing in front of me in silky lingerie? She’s a fucking dream.
Before things go any further, though, there’s something I need to know.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask. “Because we don’t have to?—”
She cuts my words off when she reaches up and presses a kiss to my lips. That’s all the confirmation I need, so I thread my fingers through her hair and deepen the kiss. I lose myself in her softness and her warmth. In this moment, in this room, nothing matters but the two of us. I pull back slightly, just enough to tip her chin up so she knows exactly what I’m saying. “We can stop at any time,” I tell her. “We only take this as far as you want it to go.”
Fallon’s blue eyes find mine. “As far as I want it to go,” she repeats, her words soft. “That’s pretty damn far, Ollie. I want you to fill me up with your cock. I want your lips on every inch of my body. I want to be tired for the next three damn days because you’ve worn me the fuck out.”
Fallon’s words light me up, but before I can respond with my own filthy promises, she sinks to her knees in frontof me, divesting me of my joggers and boxers in one quick motion.
There’s got to be some wedding night etiquette about how the woman always goes first and how there’s absolutely no cock sucking until the bride has had multiple screaming orgasms. But apparently my woman never got that memo.
I’m unsteady on my feet as her mouth envelops me. She’s licking and sucking and getting so damn loud. Her enthusiasm just turns me on even more. But if she keeps this up, she’s going to take me right over the edge and I’m sure as hell not ready for this show to be over.
Putting a little light pressure on her shoulders, I stop her long enough for her swollen lips to pop off my dick.
“Get on the bed,” I tell her.
“I wasn’t done yet,” she protests.
“I never said you were. But it’s basically our wedding night, and you said you wanted me to…what was it? Something about filling you with my cock and wearing you out so much that you’ll sleep for three days. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
She nods before crawling onto the bed.
