She doesn’t speak as we walk into the house and up the stairs. The silence is comfortable.
Welcome.
I reach around her to open the door to my master suite and gesture for her to go in before me and smile when she lets out a gasp of surprise.
“What is this?” She turns those wide brown eyes to me in wonder.
“A celebration, tesoro.” I close and lock the door behind me and lead her further into the room. Candles flicker around the room, the only light in the space. Pink tulip petals have been formed into a heart on the bed, and right in the center of them are…
“Shoes!” she exclaims and hurries to the bed. “Oh, my God.”
“What is it?” I press my chest to her back, my hands gripping her shoulders, and kiss the top of her head.
“There are blue boxes in those pretty pink shoes.”
I grin. “Indeed.”
“And the pink shoes are strappy.”
“Right again.”
She crosses her arms and grips my hands with hers, holding on tight. “We’re celebrating Will and Meg with designer shoes and blue Tiffany boxes?”
“No.” I turn her to face me and cup her face in my hands. “We’re not celebrating the wedding, cara. We’re celebrating you.”
She frowns in confusion.
“You were amazing, not just today, but during this whole process. You should be so proud of yourself, sweetheart.” I kiss her soft forehead, her nose, and then gently lay my lips on hers, kissing her lightly before pulling back. “Don’t you want to open the boxes?”
“Desperately.” She chuckles, and turns back to the bed.
“Wait. Let’s get comfy. I’ll rub your feet while you open the boxes.”
“Wow. This is a lot of pampering, Dominic.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I wink at her and help her get comfortable, leaning against the pillows. I pull her shoes off her small feet, sit on the bed, and begin kneading the arches.
“Oh, God.” Her eyes close and she leans her head back against the headboard. “You’re seriously good with your hands.”
“If you fall asleep, you won’t see what’s in those boxes.”
She bites her lip and raises her head and looks at me.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did. Open them.”
First, she examines the shoes, her eyes bright with feminine lust for such things, which makes me laugh.
“I kind of like looking at them like this,” she confesses. “I mean, the blue looks so pretty in these pink shoes.”
I raise a brow and wait for her to finish admiring the shoes, and finally she can’t resist any longer. She tugs one box out of a shoe.
“Oh my,” she breathes when she opens the box. “There’s a lot of pink happening around here tonight.”
She’s quiet for a long minute, her lip gripped in her teeth as she simply stares at the white and pink diamond necklace nestled in the blue box. Her brown gaze shoots up to mine as she reaches for the other box.
“Lots of pink,” she says again, when she sees the matching bracelet.
“They match the pink shoes,” I whisper, and continue to knead the muscles in her calves. “Your calves are tight.”
“I was walking in heels for roughly fourteen hours today.”
Finally, without another word, she simply climbs over to me, into my lap, and wraps herself around me, clinging on tightly.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“They’re so beautiful. Thank you so much.”
“They’re going to look amazing against your skin, cara. That’s why I chose pink. You wear pink so well.”
She buries her face in my neck and kisses me gently. Now is the time to tell her how much I love her.
But instead, I stay quiet, plucking pins from her hair until it’s falling around her shoulders and plunge my fingers in it, pulling it to my nose.
“You smell amazing.”
“You smell amazing,” she replies, her nose still pressed to my skin.
“You were remarkable to watch today. You were so in control, so focused.”
“That’s my job.”
“You’re excellent at it.”
She smiles against my neck.
“Are you going to let me lay you down and help you get more comfortable?”
“I’ll let you lay me down and make love to me,” she says with a small voice.
You don’t ever have to ask me twice.
I tip her onto her back and hover over her, helping her shimmy out of her beautiful blue dress and matching underwear, until she’s spread out under me, the pink tulip petals around her, her golden blonde hair fanned around her head, looking like nothing short of an angel.
“You take my breath away,” I whisper.
She grins as she works on the buttons of my shirt, shoving it over my shoulders and tossing it aside, then making quick work of my pants. When I’m naked at last, I settle over her, bracing myself on my elbows, my heavy cock nestled in her slick, hot folds.
I brush imaginary tendrils of hair off her forehead and cheeks with my fingertips, sweep my nose over hers, anything to touch her.
I’ll never get enough of feeling her skin with mine.
“Dominic,” she whispers, then gasps as I move my hips, just a bit, sliding through her wetness.
“Yes, my treasure.”