Giving my hair one quick finger-comb and toss, followed by two quick cheek pinches and some cherry flavored lip balm, I opened up the bathroom door and stood there. Just like it had the first time he saw me in my wedding gown, James’ breath caught, and his pupils dilated.
“So beautiful,” he finally managed to say, momentarily stunned and making me feel happy and girly and causing the butterflies in my belly to dance in an unmitigated frenzy.
He stalked towards me and pulled me against him, spinning me around so that my back was to his front. He started dropping soft kisses on my neck and shoulders and murmuring all kinds of wonderful things in my ear. His voice was like a zephyr against my skin, and it was driving me wild.
I turned around and looked up into his eyes. The firelight danced lambent in them. He was beautiful, masculine, and I found myself speechless and short of breath at the way his eyes were running up and down my body in awe. I still had to pinch myself from time to time that this man was my husband. He was mine, all mine, from now until forever.
My eyelids grew heavy and my pussy wet with the inebriating effects of James’ skillful seduction. Whatever he wanted, whatever he demanded, I needed to give it to him like I needed air to breathe.
He nuzzled that spot where my neck met my shoulder. “The entire night is about you, my perfect wife. I plan to worship you.”
Scooping me up, he carried me over in front of the fire and laid me down on the white and brown llama skin, the skirt of my dress riding up and pooling around my hips. He caught sight of the garter and with a roguish smirk reached out and pulled, letting it go so it snapped painfully against my thigh. The dirty bugger. But the pain dissolved, replaced by a tender but lovely warmth as the memories of James and his diabolical elastic bands on the boat came flooding back. He pushed my thighs apart and maneuvered my legs so that my knees were bent, and then lifting my hips, he slid my underwear down past my ankles and put them to the side.
Then he went about the task of undressing himself. Sweater, shirt, jeans, socks, it was hard to believe such a mundane act, an act I’d witnessed hundreds of times over the last few years, still managed to turn me on. Still managed to rev my engine and get my juices flowing. Our eyes were fixed on each other, speaking volumes without uttering a sound. A wolfish smile crossed his lips, and the flames illuminated the already blazing passion in his eyes. He settled down on his stomach and pushed his hands up my dress, cupping my butt, pulling himself so his head was at the apex of my thighs.
“Just relax and enjoy, princess,” he said, before flicking his tongue out so it grazed my clit.