Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
He leans in and kisses me. “I love you so damn much, Mrs. Riggins.”
“We’re not there yet, son,” the minister jokes.
“Can we get there?” Stanley asks. His voice is strong, and the love shining in his eyes would have me falling to my knees if he didn’t have a tight grip on my hands.
“The rings?” the minister asks.
“Yeah, we’re gonna need those,” Stanley says, and the guests laugh again.
I smile at him as he turns and accepts my ring.
“Repeat after me,” the minister instructs. We each take our turn and take our vows, before sliding the white-gold bands onto our fingers.
“Now, you may kiss your bride.”
“Finally.” Stanley expels a heavy breath, sliding his arm around my waist and hauling me into his chest.
When his lips touch mine, sparks fly just as they always do. Only this time, it’s different. It’s more because I know that he’s my husband. I know that no matter where life takes us, he’ll be by my side, and there is nothing in this world that I want more than that.
Slowing the kiss, Stanley rests his forehead against mine. “My wife,” he murmurs.
“My husband.”
“Fuck, I love that. Say it again.”
“I love you, husband.”
“Mrs. Riggins, you are my world.” He kisses me again, not showing an ounce of care that our friends and family are watching us. In this moment, there’s just the two of us.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Stanley
I can’t take my eyes off my wife as she lies beside me in a white, barely there bikini. It’s day three of our honeymoon and my wife decided today we needed some fresh air. The last two days we’ve been holed up in our suite.
When we talked about our honeymoon, Lena said she wanted to stay semi close to home since we’d be spending the majority of our time in the suite.
In bed.
Wrapped around one another.
She wasn’t wrong.
The only other thing she said was that she’d like white sand and blue water. That’s how we landed here, in Clearwater Beach, Florida. We are staying at a hotel on the beach in a suite that has a balcony with a clear view of the blue water my wife requested.
My wife.
Damn if it doesn’t feel good to call her that. The last two days have been more than I could have expected. I carried her over the threshold, stripped her bare, and that’s how we spent the next forty-eight hours. The only clothing we even bothered to put on were the robes that were provided by the hotel. Until today.
That brings us to now. Sitting on the beach, soaking up the rays, and having a nice cold drink. Lena read for a little bit while I just sat here and enjoyed the view. The ocean view wasn’t bad either.
Taking another peek at my wife—because let’s face it, I can’t take my eyes off her—I see her skin pinking from the sun. “Baby.” Reaching over, I gently trace my hand over her back. “You’re going to burn. It’s time for more sunscreen.”
“I’m too comfy,” she grumbles.
“Come on, lazybones.”
“Fine, but I’m cooling off in the water first.” She sits up, adjusts her skimpy-ass bikini top to make sure her assets are covered, tosses her sunglasses onto the chair beside her, and stands. She takes off running for the ocean, and I scramble to my feet to chase after her.
I will always chase after her.
We crash into the water at the same time. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lift her high, and let us both fall back into the waves. After we’ve both come up for air, she turns and wraps her arms and legs around me.
“You’re beautiful, Mrs. Riggins.”
“I’m a sure thing.” She laughs. “You don’t need to work so hard. This proves that.” She lifts her left hand from where it was locked behind my neck and wiggles her engagement ring and wedding band. The diamond glitters beneath the rays of the Florida sun.
Leaning in, I kiss her. It’s a soft press of my lips to hers, but it ignites a fire inside me, just the same as if it were hot and feverish. I take my time, slowly trailing my tongue across her lips. She opens for me, like the queen that she is, and I slide my tongue against hers. I explore her mouth with languid strokes.
Her legs clamp around my waist, and she grinds her bikini-covered pussy over my cock.
“Stanley.” My name is a plea from her lips, one I relish to hear every day for the rest of my life. I smile against her lips because this is my life. My wife in my arms, kissing her, holding her anytime I want.
This is my happy place.
Not the beach.
The woman.
My wife.
She grinds down on me again as her fingernails dig into my scalp. Moving my hands from the backs of her thighs, I slide them beneath her bikini bottoms and grip her ass cheeks, helping guide her over my cock.