Vincent & Ezra

daddy

Ezra

When we got home, Vincent and I both climbed out of the car, the air around us buzzing. We made our way into the bedroom and I excused myself to the bathroom before Vincent even had a chance to say anything. I changed out of my dress and into one of his long sleeve teeshirts and a pair of spandex shorts.

I was slightly panicking, I knew when I go out there Vincent will be patient and understanding, sitting on his hands until I direct him otherwise, but I didn't want that, I wanted his hands on me.

I opened the bathroom door and see he sitting on the edge of the bed hunched over, resting his forearms on the top of his thighs.

As soon as he heard the door open, he sat up straight, shooting me a smile and motioned for me to claim my place on his lap, and I did so immediately.

I sat in his lap straddling him, my arms immediately going up to his shoulders and holding on. This position was giving me major déjà vu from our wedding night, but this time was different. We were different.

This time I wouldn't be crying and miserable, worried about what my dad or Alice may think. I would be in love with my husband, who has been more than patient.

Vincent spoke first, "You said you wanted to talk?"

He continued rubbing small circles on my thighs, while I hummed out an "Mhm," while he peppered my face in chaste kisses.

I kept one hand on his shoulder, reaching my other hand to play with the hair on the base of his head, making Vince hold onto me tighter, pulling me closer.

"You gonna make me guess?" He chuckled out, stopping his kisses, which made me frown at him in return.

"Remember what you made me promise last night?" I asked.

"Mhm." He hummed back.

"I'm not ready for the real thing." I confirmed, "But, um, I don't, I've-"

Vincent decided to free me from my excessive rambling, "What does my sweet wife suggest we do then, hm?"

I paused for a moment and he began slowly placing sloppy kisses against my jawline, "Should I tell my beautiful wife how much I love her, hm? How fucking hard she makes me? How about how much I want to bury my face between her thighs and never come back up?"

I let out a shaky breath, "Yeah I think that's fine."

Vincent smiled at my joke, and looked down at me, "Trust me?" He asked, and I nodded.

"Always." I answered before he stood up with me in his arms, and tossed me on the bed and climbed on with me, "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good baby, yeah? I just want to hear you say it."

"Yes."

"Not good enough." He demanded, and I instantly knew what he wanted, our conversation from earlier playing in my mind.

"Yes, daddy." I blushed saying the words, but Vincent's visceral reaction made it worth it.

"That's my girl." He praised me, and goosebumps peppered my arms at his words. Vince must've noticed my reaction as he spoke out, "Does my little wife like to be praised, hm?"