Before he knew what was happening, he felt a wave of pleasure tightening in his body. Tightening so fast and so hard that there was no way he could stop it.
Her hands were all over him, running up and down the length of him, slipping even lower to rub his balls. Tightening. Squeezing. Turning the whole world into a rush of heated pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” he burst out, just as climax hit him without warning. His body shook as he released himself in her hands, against her belly.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” he muttered, as his body relaxed, the pleasure followed by a blurred wave of uncomfortable awareness. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” she asked with a smile, still stroking him, staring down at him in pleasure, as if she couldn’t believe she’d brought him to climax. “It was wonderful.”
She stretched up to kiss his chest, and then she reached down to grab his left hand, bringing it up so she could kiss it too, just over the simple gold band he wore.
She’d bought it earlier from a shop attached to the wedding chapel, using the leftover money she’d gotten from her sister.
He hadn’t needed to buy a ring for her. He’d given her the signet ring with the Blake family crest he’d always worn.
It was on the ring finger of her left hand now, a little loose but he could fix that later.
She was wearing his ring. She was his wife now. That was all that mattered.
She nestled against him, looking not remotely disappointed that they hadn’t even managed to have sex.
“I guess I had too much to drink,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her tightly against him.
“That’s okay.” She looked like she was about to fall asleep. Her eyelids couldn’t stay opened. “I’m very happy with my husband.”
He hoped it was true. He would make sure it remained true, no matter what he had to do to keep her happy.
It was like a miracle had occurred and the world had turned itself around, finally giving him what he wanted.
The last few hours felt like a blur now. He couldn’t even remember all the details.
But the details didn’t matter. He had Kelly exactly where he’d always wanted her. Naked in his bed. Wearing his ring. Sweet and affectionate and uninhibited.
She was his. And she’d still be his tomorrow.
He had a marriage certificate to prove it.
Three
Kelly woke up in a thick fog.
Her mind was so dark, confused, and cloudy that she could barely get her eyes opened. Her head ached, her mouth was parched, and every part of her body hurt.
After a few minutes, she managed to open her eyes and stare up at a small chandelier.
She’d never seen that chandelier before. It wasn’t in her room. It wasn’t in any room she’d ever been aware of. She had no idea why she’d been sleeping beneath it.
The idea released a trigger of anxiety. She sat up in bed, groaning as her head ached even more. She was in some sort of fancy hotel room, but she couldn’t remember entering this room. When the covers slipped down, she gasped out loud when she realized she wasn’t wearing a shirt.
A quick check under the covers confirmed that she was completely naked. Not even her underwear.
She never slept naked. She’d never even dreamed of sleeping naked.
And yet here she was in a strange hotel room, in bed without any clothes, with absolutely no idea how she’d gotten here.
The likely scenario hit her so hard that her stomach heaved slightly. She jerked, ready to run to the bathroom, but the nausea settled into a sick, churning tightness in her gut.
This couldn’t have happened.
She was in Las Vegas, she suddenly remembered, for Gus and Veronica’s wedding. The bachelorette party came back to her. Drinking those red, fruity drinks. Watching the mostly naked men dance. Deciding to be a little wild for the first time in her life.
She tried to push through the dark fog in her head, and she had a few scattered recollections of meeting up with the guys. She’d been at the wedding. She was almost sure of it. And Peter had been there. She could recall images of his face in passing snatches.
He wouldn’t have left her alone. She was certain of it. He would never have let some random man take advantage of her.
She scoured the room for some sign or hint of what she was doing here, and she saw her dress and underwear littering the floor. It caused another heave of her stomach.
There were men’s clothes too. A gray jacket from a suit—like Peter had been wearing. A white dress shirt. And a watch on the nightstand. An expensive gold watch with a thick band.
She grabbed for the watch.
It was Peter’s, she realized in an intense rush of relief, as she checked the inscription on the back. His father had given it to him when he’d graduated from high school. Peter was the man who had been with her in this room.