The Wedding Night (The Billionairess, #3.5)

III. The Consummation

The door shut behind us, and the whole world went quiet. The paparazzi that had attempted to follow us, our guests from the reception, even the larger world that had tried and failed to sever us many times. All of it went quiet when my wife shut the door.

"Finally," Rose breathed. "It's just us two, now."

"Yeah," I giggle. "Alone at last."

The events following the wedding had been a giddy, sparkly blur. The reception was hosted in the ballroom of the same hotel where I first served as butler to Rose oh so long ago. I probably danced more that night than I ever had before. Lance and I made a fool of ourselves dancing to bad pop on the dance floor. Rose and Lance gave me permission to have one platonic dance with Emily. And the night concluded with Rose and I dancing to a slow song we'd selected together. After they cut the cake, I fed Rose one delicate slice of cake on a fork. In turn, she smashed her plate of cake into my face. The thick, icy remains of it were still dripping down the front of my suit.

We had had plenty of champagne, and there was more waiting for us in an ice bucket by the bed. I was over the moon, too happy for words to describe.

Rose had reserved the most expensive suite in the hotel: The honeymoon suite, to be precise. The bed room was large, with a massive bed and a soft fur carpet. An ice bucket with a champagne bottle and two glasses were waiting for us on the table.

"Do you like the suite, my love?" Rose asked.

"I do," I said. "You have equisite taste, mistress."

"Good," she said.

She lifted a hand to my cheek, and I nuzzled into her touch. The cold her her wedding ring left an icy smot in my flesh, but I loved it. I took her hand in in mine, the one with my own ring on it, and kissed her hand.

"I'm glad you like it," Rose said. She whispered into my lips. "Because you will not be leaving this room for at least several days."

Her hand grabbed my tie, and pulled me into a kiss. I could have melted right then. I pressed myself into her kiss. My wife. I couldn't stop saying it, thinking it. My wife. My wife. My wife.

Rose pulled away then stepped back, and looked me up and down.

"You're a mess," she said, noting the cake and icing still dripping form my clothes. "Go step in the shower."

I was still a mess. The cake was on my face and as well as my clothes. I did as my mistress said and stepped into the suite bathroom. It featured a bathtub big enough for both of us, an dI shivered with what plans Rose had for it. For now, I strippedd off my groom's suit and stepped into the warm, running water. I washed away the wedding cake and icing, then washed my hair and body.

My mistress was going to claim me tonight, and I wanted my body to be ready for her.

Once I was clean, I dried off with a fluffy white towel. I didn't bother putting my suit back on. I picked up off the floor and dropped it in a laundry basket in the corner.

Naked and ready, I stepped out of the bathroom into the bedroom, then stopped immediately in my tracks.

Rose was seated on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, and a long riding crop in her hand. Her wedding dress was a silky pile on the floor, and all she wore now was white, lacy lingerie: A lacy white bra, with panties and garters connecting to long white stockings that reached up her thighs. Her wedding ring gleamed from the hand that held the riding crop.

She looked me up and down, her crimson lips in a smirk.

"Bare for me, already?" Rose said in a teasing voice. "I've trained you well, husband."