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“Welcome, Mrs. King, we’re very glad that you chose The Heights as your honeymoon destination.”
Mrs. King.
“I don’t know if you’ll ever have another one, but as far your first goes, I hope this honeymoon makes you happy.”
“This is ours for the night?”
“For the next three nights.”
“You planned a vacation for us?”
“No, just a honeymoon.”
“But why? This is fake, you didn’t owe me a honeymoon.”
“I just thought it might be nice…I just wanted you to have something you enjoyed, especially before you have the baby and things get hard. You can have these three days where you do nothing but relax.”
All day I had shown restraint.
I wanted to meet her little guy, to hold him. I wanted a life with her, and I’d been holding back from wanting and feeling like a piece of shit for wanting it, all damn day. With the fall of her dress, it seemed my resolve snapped.
I used to love touching her hair when we were in school. It was one of the only ways I could ever get close to her without her noticing that I had the world’s largest crush on her.
Now she was here and I could touch as much of her as I wanted. Now she was my wife.
“From now on, you will tell me if you’re aching.
If you need relief, it will be me who gives it to you, do you understand?”
“You taste like you’re finally mine.”
I’d have to settle for the truth I slid in with my vows. The honesty I’d been too scared to share with her our whole lives. She’d heard it, whether she believed it or not, accepted it or not, it was my truth. I had interjected
at the last second because I felt like my chest was about to burst if I didn’t say it. Fake wedding or not, this was all real for me. She was real, always had been.
“You need to tell her how you feel, stop playing around. I had the honor and privilege of getting to be with the love of my life for nearly twenty-five years. Stop wasting time.” My mom’s voice cracked at the very end of her sentence.
“You lose the love of your life, Jameson, and then you can judge my choices.”
“Jamie, you need to at least try. You’ve loved this girl since you were thirteen…I used to see your sketches and notes left behind in your desk. I know you. So, go get her.”
“She’s been back for over a year, Mom…there’s no way she’d be open to dating me. I know this. She gave up on waiting.”
Penelope King. A flutter of excitement climbed my chest at the sight of my new legal name in print. He’d given me access to his bank account?
“Or with you. She was so hopeful even until her last day on earth. She told me to love you enough for her love to shine through too.” “You will.” Jameson’s voice sounded from the doorway
But Jameson didn’t even seem to hesitate to include me.
“I’d like to taste you properly, Mrs. King.”
“This right here isn’t complicated…it’s mine. No one else gets to touch you while you’re my wife.”
He was seated as if we were about to eat, and here I was spread out for him, naked, dripping all over the table.
“Perfect, Penelope. So goddamn perfect. And mine. You have my name on your lips as you’re coming apart, my tongue in your cunt,
my fingers as you clench around me. Now let go and come, I want to see you drip onto this table.”
“You made a mess of the table, Mrs. King. I suggest you come and clean it up.”
“now lick it up like a good wife.”
Fuck, the mouth on him was a devastating discovery. How on earth would I ever have regular sex after this? No one had ever stirred my emotions or my nerves in such a way that I was soaking from mere syllables.
“Turn around and let me taste it on your lips.”
“What else would you like to do with me, husband?”
“Endless things, I’d need to keep you forever in order to fulfill every fantasy.”
“Sit there and let me see that pretty pink tongue.”
“I’m about to cover your face in cum. I suggest you close your eyes, Mrs. King, and keep that tongue out so you can taste what you do to me.”
“I never thought it would be like this,” he whispered, staring down at me.
“like what?” “Perfect.”
He didn’t fuck me. Not after making me come two more times using his fingers and tongue.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, welcome, your table is ready.”
“I had them cut out a third of the lights, so we could see the stars,”
“Why are you torturing me with all this?”
“Torturing you?”
“yes, you’re torturing me by showing me how good I could have had it. I get it, Jamie, you’re amazing. I missed out but you can scale it back. I know this isn’t real and what we did earlier was likely still about my hormones, which explains why we didn’t fuck, but I just—”
“It’s hard to experience all this knowing it’...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
“Do you know we never danced at our wedding reception?” I looked up at him. “It was—” “Fake. I know.”
“Maybe I want to treat you like you’re my wife because I think that’s what you deserve. I told you a long time ago, Penelope, if you were mine, things would be different for you.”
“So, wife, dance with me.”
