He collapsed into my lap when his cake was ready, his arms around my shoulders as I cut us a slice. His heart was still wild, and sweat ran in long rivers down the muscled channel of his spine. “Happy wedding day, Husband,” I said. Shea smiled, a sexed-crazed, gorgeous little grin, and pushed his forehead against my temple.
What a damn fucking wedding day 🥵🥵🥵
