Married To A Lavoís

Pt. 4

My husband takes a feather pen in hand, signing his name on the documents that give him everything his parents owned. Including their wealth.

The banker stamped it with ink then wished us luck, leaving our mansion forever. Denver is now one of the richest men in the United Kingdom with a jaw dropping worth of three billion and four hundred million.

Something got into me these past weeks, Denver and I couldn't keep our hands off each other. That was only it. Just touching like there was no tomorrow. And it didn't matter where we were, with whom, nor anything.

On any given day I would have had my virginity taken, but NO. Any girl's chances are ruined every month. 

I felt a gush come out from my privates, I shove Denver's arm off me so sit up.  "What happened? Roselle, Are you hurt?"

He immediately checks on me but I'm just chuckling at his half asleep-half awake face.  "My hand feels wet," he pulled his other hand from under the blanket.  Two out five of his fingers had blood on them, I want to die, this is awful.

"Um, Roselle?"

I turn red out embarrassment after he pulled the covers off me, revealing the heavily stained sheets. A tear rolled down my cheek, I'm so ashamed of getting menstrual blood on my husband.  "Roselle, don't cry. There's no need to cry, this is normal. Look, let's just--"

"I'm upset I ruined my favorite night gown, and perfectly clean bed sheets." I start to laugh as Denver joins the laughing with me. Then we got up and walked with him to the loo.

The next few days I could not get out of bed because of the cramps.  My husband is the sweetest for bringing me goods and stuff to me. Even reads me my favorite books.

"Let's see how much you know me, husband. Who is my favorite author and book?"

Denver straighten his back from slouching and he looks up, determined to get my question right.  "Too easy. You were reading Romeo&Juliet; too cliché. Hamlet. Sonnet 1 is still marked right there..." I look to the desk with my marked page.

I return to him.  "Plus I'm reading you Sonnet 116; Shakespeare. So, your favorite author is W. Shakespeare. For favorite book.." He fishes through every single book splayed between our legs before holding one up.  "Macbeth," he whispers.

I kiss his cheek, "right you are. You do know me." I lean to kiss his cheek again just as he moved his head and caught his mouth. He grabs my chin, leaning in fully, resisting the urge to get on top.  "How many days has it been?" He asked against my lips.

"Why?"

"You know why. Don't make me say why."

He turned red and buried his head under my gown and began nibbling my stomach. I can't deny that I'm also dying to feel him, but he doesn't know that I'm already done with my monthly visitor.

It's February 20th, tonight we're traveling 47 minutes to Swindon to the Wilson's mansion.  Denver told me Maxwell throws a big party for his closest friends. 

I scan the guest list while Ivy and Mara dressed me. All party guests are high class people, of course. Mara clipped a pearly butterfly piece hold my hair in a low loose curl ponytail. 

"Which one do you like best?" Ivy had a couple choice of facinators before me.  One was simple, the other one was too feathery, and the last one a tilted hat with a nice short fluffs. 

"The last one, please." She carefully put it on top of my head then tilted it a bit. Now the gown. A beautiful lace dark blue ball gown. It was a hassle to put on, but we manage to make it work.  "What about a bustle?" Ivy suggested.