Beckham and I said goodnight to our last couple of guests around midnight. As soon as the big, iron palace gates were closed, he scooped me up in his arms and began walking back to the room.
"God Beck, you're so cheesy."
"Carrying the bride to their room is the best way to start the night off." I laugh as he hurries through the halls and up the stairs, around corners and through rooms to get to the bedroom. He almost tripped a few times.
"Sweetheart, calm down. We have all night. The rest of our lives, in fact." He sneaks a grab at my buttocks and continues walking. The bedroom door is now in view.
"I could care less about how much time we have. I want you now." My body freezes and heats at his straightforward demeanor. He really wasn't kidding when he told me not to bite my lip. I wonder what would've happened if I did. He kisses me as he opens the door and closes it with a kick of his foot. When he sets me down and we pull away, I realize there are dimly lit candles and roses scattered around the room. The sweet familiar scent of the flowers fills my senses and heats my desires. Beckham wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him. "I love you." I overlap his hands with my own.
"I love you too." I look around again at the romantic setting. "I'm going to go take these pins out of my hair okay?" But when I try moving away, I'm held in place by his strong hold on me.
"I can do it, baby. You just relax." He releases my torso and begins carefully searching for the bobby pins drilled into my head.
"O-okay." One by one my hair feels looser and more relaxed. Every bobby pin he takes out is placed in my hand and I count. We've got nine of them so far. He continues freeing my hairspray filled locks until there are no pins left to take out. My scalp feels sore from being held in a tight updo for so long. I place the altogether seventeen pins on a nearby table and massage my head to relieve the dull pain. Soft hands run up and down my arms and I halt. They move up and down multiple times, then move to my back, caressing my shoulders and hips. And then one of them grabs my zipper. Everything in me is completely still, waiting for the next step. The sound of the zipper fills my ears as my back is greeted with cool air. I take a deep breath after realizing I can breathe normally again, and Beckham slides my sleeves off my arms, letting my wedding gown fall to the floor. I sit there standing in nothing but a white, satin strapless bra, lace thong and matching lace stockings. My lip finds its way back between my teeth and I wonder what he could possibly be thinking right now. I tense slightly as his hands gently graze up and down my back and arms, sometimes pausing to kiss sensitive areas of my skin, like my wrist or my neck. I hold my breath as he pauses for a small second.
"Bliss, are you biting your lip?" My stomach drops at his demanding question. His tone is low, seductive, and possessive. I swallow the building lump in my throat.
"Yes..." He cups my ass with hungry delicacy.
"That's what I thought." He scolds. I feel his hot breath close to my ear now and turn my head slightly toward the direction he's speaking from. "Why don't you go stand next to the bed for me." I fidget with my hands as I do as he asked, stepping outside of my doughnut-shaped dress on the floor. Somewhere along the way, my shoes had been taken off. I felt my scratchy stockings rub against my feet and legs as I made my way to our bed. Sets of red candles were strategically placed on each of the bedside tables. Their flames licked at the air like they were trying to escape the cages of glass keeping them contained. My hair is now in loose, messy curls around me. I sure hope it didn't look like a lions mane. When I'm next to the left side of the bed, the side that Beckham usually sleeps on, I turn around and wait for further instruction. He's studying me very carefully. His hands reach up to take his tie off and he unbuttons his shirt while he slowly makes his way to stand in front of me. By the time he reaches me I'm already shaking with anticipation. Our eyes don't leave each other as he removes his dress shirt unless it's to steal a quick glance at each other's lips. His soft, luscious lips. I want to taste them again. He grasps my hand and places it on his chest. He's warm and muscular and breathing hard.
YOU ARE READING
𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚘 𝚆𝚊𝚛
Romance*Mature Content* She'd been raised from the start to be different: a warrior rather than your typical maiden. Bliss had been trained by her military father in the hopes that she would one day become one of Aridonya's most elite soldiers, a protector...
