Carter meets my gaze and holds it strong as steel.
Stevie and Ford are pronounced husband and wife, and the crowd goes wild as if they’ve just scored the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl, and, in a way, this is much bigger. I, of all people, should understand the gravity of marriage, of what it means to lose it.
After a five star meal, the sushi bar, the chocolate river that is laden with any and everything to dip into its stream, the band starts up. Stevie has an expansive dance floor installed under the wings of an overgrown oak.
Twinkle lights are strewn over the expanse of Ford’s property and dancing commences under the fairy-tale-like illumination.
“Dance with me.” A dark lust-filled voice fills my ear from behind, and I melt into him.
“Is it your turn to bark out orders?” I’m only half teasing as I spin into Carter.
His mouth opens as if in awe. “No.” His eyes roam over my face, my body with a subtle hint of sadness.
I clear my throat in an effort to change the subject. “Abby isn’t here to see her uncle marry?”
“I knew it’d run long.” He gives a subtle wink. “And I figured I’d want to stay late.” He picks up my hand and kisses it before pressing his hips to mine and holding me, dancing right there under the overgrown illuminated oak.
“Really?” I bite back the laughter begging to bubble from me. “I’m not too interested in staying late, Carter. In fact, I was thinking of heading out early”—I give a playful shrug—“getting some shut eye. The queen does need her beauty sleep.”
He moans, looking into me with that determined gaze. His granite muscles tense over mine, his cock presses against my hip, and a fire of wanting rips through me. For years I’ve dreamed of having my way with him—of my teeth grazing over his body—of my tongue loving him in soft lashes. I wondered what it would be like to wake up in Carter’s arms, to let him have me again and again, neither of us ever fully satiated. We could run into eternity and never get enough of the feast of our flesh.
Carter inches his head toward mine, and my lips part to greet him.
“Come home with me, Aspen.” His eyes widen, glassy and slightly stoned off his lust.
My heart gives a wild thump. “Are you going to read me a bedtime story?”
“No.” His expression grows tense, serious. “I’m going to worship the queen.”
Carter
Ford and Stevie insist that Aspen and I stay long enough to watch the bouquet toss. I have a feeling I know where this is going, and I’m not about to protest.
“One, two, three!” Stevie tosses it over her shoulder with one eye on her sister until the globe of roses lands right in Aspen’s arms.
Cash comes up beside me. “Traditionally, a married woman wouldn’t be allowed to participate. But, you know, fuck tradition because this is Aspen we’re talking about. Isn’t that right, big bro?”
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s nursing a beer and probably a grudge I’m unaware of. Judging by the fumes expending from his breath, I’m sure he’s ready to pass out in a corner, so I’ll forgive his ignorant remark.
He steps in and blocks my view of Aspen who’s getting a congratulatory hug from her sister. “We need to talk,” he gravels just this side of pissed. “You got a minute?”
Aspen heads over with her eyes shining like candles in this dim light, clutching the ball of crimson roses to her chest looking every bit right out of a glossy bridal magazine. Cher kept those around just before our rather impromptu, unfortunate nuptials. Made me stare at them for hours, but the women in the magazine kept morphing into Aspen, and now, here she is, the real deal, eyeing me as if I were about to unzip my pants and offer her dessert. I just might. Hell, I am.
“Can it wait?” I can’t seem to take my eyes off Aspen.
Cash follows my gaze. “So are you two solid?”
“More solid than ever.”
“You think you can trust her?”
“What?” Cash manages to pull me out of the moment. “Dude, get lost. I see Carson over there with two pinup girls. Pick one out, and make it an interesting night. I’m about to do the same.” I meet Aspen halfway. That dark, windswept hair against her bisque skin makes her glow like a star against the hard, navy night.
“It looks like I got lucky.” She waves the flowers at me before handing them to a little girl running by.
“You are lucky, and beautiful, and exactly the kind spirit my heart has craved for years.” I touch my hand to her cheek and run my thumb over her beautiful face. “I want something more with you, Aspen.”
Her arms fold over my neck. “I know what you want from me.” She whispers the words from below her lashes. “You want a detailed accounting of my anatomy by way of your tongue. And, if you say I’m wrong, I might have to slap you until you agree with me.”
A quiet laugh pumps from my chest. I needle into her with my gaze, pouring every emotion I’ve ever felt into that one, silent exchange.
“You’re right,” I whisper. “But beyond that, I want every day with you. I want this with you.” I glance around at the venue. “I want a full life, children, a lifespan of good memories with you by my side. I want to grow old and complain about the economy with you as we both slowly morph into Republicans. I want to sleep under the stars with you.” I pull her chin gently toward mine. “I want to make love to you under the stars. You are mine, and I am yours. There isn’t another day on this planet I want to spend apart from you.” I swallow hard, forcing her to hold my gaze. “I’m sorry I wasn’t always the person I should have been, but I’m here for you now and forever if you’ll have me. I’m in love with you, Aspen. And I’m not too concerned whether it’s fair to anyone else when I say this, but it’s only ever been you.”
Her mouth opens as she chokes on her reply. Aspen closes her eyes a moment before giggling into me. “I love you, too, Carter.” Her expression dims. “I want to get this right.”
“We are right.” I wrap my arm around her waist as we make our way toward the front. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Those were beautiful words. That was some speech.” Aspen leans her head over my shoulder as we head down a slight embankment. “You always work that hard to get laid?”
I give a violent tickle to her ribs, and she screams a shrill of delight as I flip her over my shoulder and make a break for the car. Aspen’s beautiful laughter lights up the night, and I soak it down to my bones.
It’s time to put Aspen on the altar and let the exaltation begin. My bed is about to become holy ground. I’m going to fall prostate over her beautiful body, and honor, idolize, glorify, and praise her with every ounce of my being.
Long live the queen—with me right by her side.
* * *
I carry Aspen up the walkway and through the front door just as Harley jumps on us both. Aspen tenses and laughs as I shuttle her upstairs and slam the door to my bedroom with my shoe. The windows are bare, letting in the screaming light of the moon, a pale freckled sky with its occluded stars. It feels right like this.
My lips seal over hers as I land her onto the mattress. Aspen sits on her knees, and I meet her there, the two of us panting, the slight edge of anger in our eyes for taking so long to get here. There are so many more things I would love to say to her, but right now my heart thunders like a drum, pulsating through my skull like a ticking bomb. Aspen places her hands on my shoulders as the moonlight casts its glow over her bare arms. For a brief moment, I want to ask if she’s on the pill. I don’t have one fucking condom to my name, and that makes me want to drive my head through a wall. A part of me wants to warn her in the event she needs to pull the plug, but selfishly I don’t. My hand falls over her hip, my thumb grazing over her stomach. I’d put a baby in her belly if she’d let me. I aspire to do exactly that one day.
Aspen gives a subtle nod as if reading my mind, letting me know it’s going to be okay, that, whatever the outcome, it’s what she wants. Her mouth falls to mine, and a
fiery blaze rips through my veins. It’s one thing to kiss Aspen in a crowded room full of people, on the beach, sneaking kisses in my office, but on my bed, behind closed doors, takes this, takes us, to a whole new level.
Her tongue fishes for mine and hooks it, draws it in and makes it do her bidding as we both give way to a sigh. I am going to love Aspen like a slave, like a starved lover who’s been craving her flesh for years. I am in fact both.
Her teeth tease and bite as she pulls me deeper into a hot lusty exchange. Her hands pluck my shirt out of my pants as she pulls it apart and yanks it off my body. My hands glide down to her hips, roaming freely in a manner I haven’t before, and my entire body hammers with a pulse. I pull her dress over her head and toss it to the side before leaning back to admire her this way. Her lace bra, her barely there panties, send my adrenaline skyrocketing. Aspen is a work of art, a beauty in dark shadows and light—her very own performance piece.
Her eyes linger on mine as she unbuckles my belt and slips her cool hands down the back of my boxers.
I tip my head back and swallow down a groan.
“Aspen,” I whisper in haste as I plunge my tongue back into her mouth. My fingers work off her bra. I don’t wait to properly remove it before my hands hungrily cup her tits. “Shit.” I hiss into her mouth as a laugh gurgles in my throat. Aspen is soft, firm, perfect. My mouth sinks down her neck, straight to the treasure in my hand, and I clasp my mouth over her nipple, sucking her down with a quickened pace then softening, grazing her with my teeth, drinking her down, eating her flesh. Aspen is the sweetest dessert.
Her breathing quickens. Aspen gasps as I continue my assault. Her nails dig into my back, clawing along as if it were too much to take.
My thumbs curl into the sides of her panties as I glide them from her hips.
She rakes my boxers off, and I lay her over the bed as I expel the remainder of my clothing.
Aspen rides her hands up and down my back before drifting to my legs, curving around the front and clasping onto my cock.
Like a kiss from the sun, the sensation rips through me. “Shit,” I groan, catching her glassy eyes as she looks up at me from the pillow.
Aspen takes in a breath as my body lays over hers, flesh to flesh. It feels surreal. My hands reach down and capture hers, pinning them alongside her wild splay of hair. Without hesitation, my mouth dives over hers once again.
I pull back and take in that drugged look in her eyes as her chest heaves for more.
“I’m going to make love to you, but I have a little worship to get to first.”
Celestial Exaltation
Aspen
Henry VIII barreled through six wives. His foray into holy matrimony can famously be remembered in this children’s verse; divorced, beheaded, died—divorced, beheaded, survived. Henry was hungry for passion, hungry with an unquenchable desire for male heirs, and, in the end, he was simply hungry. As diverse as his bedmates might have been, his pursuit of them was rather cookie-cutter. Henry’s pattern of affection began with marked infatuation then quickly abated once he conquered his paramour. Translation, he was in it to win it. After all, the first bite of forbidden fruit is always the sweetest. Surprisingly, unforgivably, much like Henry, I am lost in lust for this sweet, erotic, forbidden fruit.
Carter tastes like whiskey, like honeyed spice, an entire cedar forest. Seeing that I’m still a very married woman, Carter Cannon tastes like the world’s most perfect sin. This night had turned into a kaleidoscope of swirling hues, lush reds, LA clear sky blue, the paradise shade of green only the tropics can provide.
His mouth runs wild over mine, painting me with its wet velvet. I could spend an eternity with his hot, lusty tongue wrestling me with aggressive abandon. I’ve waited for this moment, dreamed of it, and, judging by his fevered display of affection, Carter has, too.
In a strange way, it only opens the door for questions born from past grievances, like shadows in the corner mocking me—as much as I’d love to let those go, a very persistent part of me would love to finally hear those answers. But that’s for another day. The slashing of a wound isn’t what tonight is about. It’s about restitution in advance of an apology—recompense for lonely nights, an I’m sorry for the entire Henry debacle. Tonight is about altar worship, about fanning the flames of desire and burning down the entire damn planet. Destiny owed us this dignity. Tonight, Carter’s body marrying with mine is a rite of passage we’ve waited far too long to consummate. This isn’t about revenge, or war games of the heart. This is Carter and I taking our rightful seats on the throne of our love. One by one, we evicted the fools from court, and now the restoration of our realm begins, one erotic kiss at a time.
Carter runs his mouth over my face, grazing the apple of my cheek with his teeth. He smooths his lips to my ear and whispers with fire, “You’ve healed me, Aspen. For so long I was dead, and, now, I’m alive.”
Salvation, adulation—Carter has me so high up on a precipice the view to realty is staggering.
My hands curve over his muscular shoulders. Carter has always had a weight-trainer’s body, a fighter’s body, and, tonight, I’m making sure he goes twelve rounds with me in this bed.
“You saved me,” my voice cracks. I mean it, maybe too much. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. From the day we met, I never stopped—not when you left, not when I got married. My heart was on ice, preserved just for this moment. I didn’t know if it’d come, but I burned for it, painfully so.”
His eyes close with deep regret. “I’m going to bathe you with kisses.” He takes a gentle bite from my ear. “Then I’m going to bathe you with my tongue.” He dots a wet, heated kiss to my lips. “This isn’t just for tonight. This doesn’t stop. This gets better, night after night.”
I tilt my head to the side and bite back a smile. “Are you promising me tomorrow?”
“I’m promising you everything—my world and my heart from this moment through eternity.” He leans down and takes a bite out of my lips. “But then you already have that.”
Carter tracks his kisses down my neck, dotting a hot ring over me as if pinning me with some exotic collar. His tongue lashes over me, up to my ear, his kisses falling like a hammer. This love we share isn’t a sin, far from it. This is holy—Jesus speaking in bold, red letters. This is all of our sentimental yesterdays, our unfurnished tomorrows rolled into one.
His body moves down the bed. His mouth creates a track down my neck to my chest where his lips find a home over my nipples again. Carter takes his time, sucking me down, hard and needy, as if I were supplying him with life-giving nourishment. My breath hitches as that tender spot deep inside me starts to rouse from its prolonged slumber. Carter is shaking me off my stubborn foundation. An earthquake brews deep in my bones, blood spurting like a geyser through my veins. I’ve always suspected Carter had the power to unhinge my sanity. I walked through a storm for this man. And now here we are, on the other side of it, together.
My body twists and writhes under Carter’s siege.
Henry never made me come. It was nothing but deception from me in the beginning when he genuinely seemed to care, and then, when he didn’t care, I didn’t bother faking it anymore. I had been relegated to something just this side of a blowup doll, something you could buy on the street corner for cash. I was a twenty-dollar whore in my own marriage bed, and here, with Carter, I was nothing short of a deity. But that’s about all the patience I have for Henry. There’s not one extra second I want to devote splitting my precious Carter-time with him. This is my moment—Carter’s and mine. And every moment that follows will be just that and more so.
His wild tongue trails over my stomach, dipping into my belly with a hot, erotic swirl.
A hard groan expels from me, and Carter pauses to appreciate it with a heated grin. He dives back down with his teeth grazing my thigh and takes a nice, healthy bite. If he wanted to illicit another groan, he earned it. My throat burns from the effort. Carter licks and teases, parting my le
gs with his shoulders before burying his head in the warm, wet home I’ve provided.
Unintelligible noises spur from me, guttural cries of ecstasy as his lips taste me for the very first time. His erratic breath tickles me as his entire face gives a series of violent revolutions. My legs spasm and cinch, a white-hot siren goes off in my belly, and now I’m questioning whether or not I’ve ever had a proper orgasm. I suppose the ones you give yourself count for little when you’re missing out on Carter Cannon and the fevered rush of his lips. I’m almost there. Too soon. I let out a sugary moan, clawing into his back, letting him know it’s just about game over for me, and he can do with that what he wants.
His body glides lower still as his mouth devours the inside of my thighs, his peppered kisses travel south as he brings my shin to his mouth.
Carter climbs to his knees and straddles my body as he makes his way higher on the bed. He spears that heavy part of him that’s most enthused to see me into my mouth, and I wrap my lips around it as he thrusts himself inside of me. My teeth graze over his heavy cock as he owns me, digs down to the deepest part of my throat until I gag. He tries to pull away, but I hold him there, taking him easy and light the way I want, the way I’ve needed to.
“Sorry. Come here.” He lowers himself over my body, his full weight relaxing over me for a moment, and I hold him there by the small of his back. I want to feel his heft, feel all of Carter pushing through me as if he were piercing some invisible membrane that slowly merged us as one.
In a flash movement, his hands extend mine to the side of the bed, his knees flex mine up in the air as his hard-on grazes that tender heated part of me.
His chest pulsates against mine as his quickened breathing matches my own. The room is alive with the sound of our thunderous panting.