A Beautiful Wedding(22)

My breath faltered. “I am so in love with you.”

His body was lying between my open legs, and I could feel him against my thighs, only a couple of inches from where I wanted him to be.

“You’re my wife.” When he said the words, a peace filled his eyes. It reminded me of the night he won the bet for me to stay at his apartment.

“Yes. You’re stuck with me, now.”

He kissed my chin. “Finally.”

He took his time as he gently slid inside of me, closing his eyes for only a second before gazing into mine again. He rocked against me slowly, rhythmically, kissing my mouth intermittently. Even though Travis had always been careful and gentle with me, the first few moments were a little uncomfortable. He must have known that I was new to this, even though I’d never mentioned it. The whole campus knew about Travis’s conquests, but my experiences with him were never the wild romps everyone talked about. Travis was always soft and tender with me; patient. Tonight was no exception. Maybe even more so.

Once I relaxed, and moved back against him, Travis reached down. He hooked his hand behind my knee and pulled up gently, stopping at his hip. He slid into me again, this time deeper. I sighed, and lifted my hip to him. There were much worse things in life than promising to feel Travis Maddox’s naked body against and inside of mine for the rest of my life. Much, much worse.

He kissed me, and tasted me, and hummed against my mouth. Rocking against me, craving me, pulling at my skin as he lifted my other leg and pushed my knees against my chest so he could press himself into me even deeper. I moaned and shifted, unable to keep quiet while he positioned himself so he was entering me at different angles, working his hips until my nails were digging into the skin of his back. My fingertips were buried deep into his sweaty skin, but I could still feel his muscles bulging and sliding beneath them.

Travis’s thighs were rubbing and bumping against my backside. He held himself up on one elbow, and then sat up, pulling my legs with him until my ankles were resting on his shoulders. He made love to me harder, then, and even though it was a little painful, that pain shot sparks of adrenaline all over my body. It took every bit of pleasure I was already feeling to a new level.

“Oh, God . . . Travis,” I said, breathing his name. I needed to say something, anything to let go of the intensity building up inside me.

My words made his body tense, and the rhythm of his movements became faster, more rigid, until beads of sweat formed on our skin, making it easier to slide against each other.

He let my legs fall back to the bed as he positioned himself directly over me again. He shook his head. “You feel so good,” he moaned. “I wanna make this last all night, but I . . .”

I touched my lips to his ear. “I want you to come,” I said, ending the simple sentence with a soft, small kiss.

I relaxed my hips, letting my knees fall even farther apart and closer to the bed. Travis pressed deep inside me, over and over, his movements building as he groaned. I gripped my knee, pulling it toward my chest. The pain felt so good it was addictive, and I felt it build until my whole body tensed in short but strong bursts. I moaned loudly, not caring who might hear.

Travis groaned in reaction. Finally, his movements slowed, but they were stronger, until he finally called out. “Oh, fuck! Damn! Agh!” he yelled. His body twitched and trembled as he pressed his forehead hard against my cheek.

Both out of breath, we didn’t speak. Travis kept his cheek against mine, twitching one more time before burying his face in the pillow under my head.

I kissed his neck, tasting the salt on his skin.

“You were right,” I said.

Travis pulled back to look at me, curious.

“You were my last first kiss.”

He smiled, pressed his lips against me hard, and then buried his face against my neck. He was breathing heavily but still managed to sweetly whisper, “I fucking love you, Pigeon.”





CHAPTER NINE


Before





Abby

A buzzing pulled me out of a deep sleep. The curtains kept out all but the slivers of sun bordering them. The blanket and sheets were hanging halfway off our king-size bed. My dress had fallen off the chair onto the floor, joining Travis’s suit that was scattered all over the room, and I could only see one of my high heels.

My naked body was tangled with Travis’s, after the third time we consummated our marriage we passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Again with the buzzing. It was my phone on the nightstand. I reached over Travis and flipped it over, seeing Trent’s name.

Adam arrested.

John Savage on the list of dead.

That was all he said. I felt sick as I deleted the messages, worried that maybe Trent didn’t offer more because the police were at Jim’s now, maybe even telling their dad that Travis might be involved. I glanced at the time on my phone. It was ten o’clock.