Sweet Possession

“Not at that part yet, folks. We still need to exchange rings.”

“Oh! The rings!” I spin around and hold out the card for Juls to take, swapping it for the ring. Turning back, I look over at the preacher. “All right, start talking. I need to kiss him.”

The bridal party and congregation all share a laugh before the preacher instructs us to slip the rings on the other person’s finger. I study the way the platinum band stands out on Reese’s skin.

My man looks good wearing a wedding band.

And then finally, after what feels like an eternity, we get to the best part.

“And now, by the power invested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He looks at Reese and I follow suit, bouncing up and down on my feet. I’m so ready for this fucking kiss, I might just burst before I get it. “You may now finally kiss your bride.”

“About time,” Reese grunts before pressing his lips against mine. This kiss wipes my memory of anything besides him, leaving me breathless as he cradles my face. I hear everyone clapping and cheering around us, but Reese doesn’t pull back. Not until he’s ready. “You’re mine, Mrs. Carroll,” he says against my lips, finally ending our kiss.

“Always have been,” I reply.

We walk down the aisle, my hand in his while everyone claps around us. Once we get through the doorway, Reese leads me to the room where the bridal party has to wait until it’s time to be announced upstairs. He pushes the door open and immediately pins me against the wall, his lips crashing against mine.

“Reese.” His name comes out as a plea. To stop because the bridal party will be in here any minute. To keep going because I’m dying to be with my husband this way.

“I need to get you out of this dress.” He kisses down my neck, nipping at my skin. His hands roam my body like he hasn’t touched me in years. There’s an urgency to it, a drive to touch every part of me. He grips my waist and spins me so I’m facing the wall. “How the fuck do I take this off?”

I flatten my palms against the wall as his fingers pop the buttons of my dress. I should be telling him we don’t have time for this, and we’re definitely about to be interrupted, but all words have escaped me.

“What the hell… Jesus Christ, Dylan. What are you wearing?”

The door swings open just as I’m about to answer and Reese quickly spins me around, closing in on me and shielding me with his body. I glance over his shoulder and see our friends walk in, all wearing the familiar ‘busted’ look on their faces.

“Mmm hmm,” Joey teases, pointing a finger at us. “You may have won the crying bet, but we just all won one hundred bucks from both of you for trying to stick it in before the reception.”

“I never agreed to that,” Reese scowls over his shoulder. “And will you all give us a fucking minute?” His fingers are trying to secure my dress blindly as I laugh against him, dropping my head against his chest. And then I feel him relax into me, his laugh echoing around us as we both enjoy the humor of this situation. The fact that we can’t make it through a few-hours-long reception before we need to have each other.

“You have two minutes before we need to line up,” Juls voice fills my ears as I keep myself completely submerged against Reese. Embedded almost. And then the sound of the door closing and the fading voices in the hallway are the only thing I hear besides our breathing

I glance up and take him in. All of him. Maybe I didn’t get a good look when we were standing in front of the congregation. Maybe I was too distracted by the heaviness of the situation and his vows to me, so honest and real, so Reese in every word. Because now as he looms over me, hands stilled on my back, I take my first real look at the man I’ve just given my life to.

Hair that’s been pulled by my fingers. Eyes wide and wild. Lips parted to speak, or ready to clamp down on my skin. His tongue teases the slit in his lip, and I know he knows exactly what he’s doing. I’d be doing the same thing if I didn’t think Juls would drag me from this room by my hair. But we don’t have time to tease or touch. Not yet.

I drop my head back as his finger runs along my jaw. “You need to button me up, husband.”

He stops all movement at the sentiment. All breathing ceases as he closes his eyes. I watch his neck roll with a heavy swallow. “Say that again.”

God, I love him. I love how he needs to hear me call him that. Not only to be mine, but to own the title.

“Husband,” I repeat before turning around. “I need some help.”

I feel his lips form to my shoulder. My neck. The shell of my ear. And now I’m the one closing my eyes and silently begging to hear him speak. To say the word he hasn’t spoken yet. “Wife,” he says against my ear. The material of my dress shifts as he buttons me up. “Can you please explain to me what you’re wearing under this? It looks like a torture device.”

I blush at my naughty secret. “It’s a corset. I figured I’d up my game a little for my wedding night. It’s uncomfortable as hell, so you’re welcome.”

He grabs my waist and spins me. “I better not have any trouble getting that off you. It looks complicated.”

“You can always rip it.”

His eyes turn feverish as he contemplates that solution while he leads me to the door. “Done. Let’s get this over with. I need my wife alone.”

I smile, feeling my body spark with anticipation, and can’t agree more.