Beautiful Beginning(50)

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, but Bennett didn

’t move. I realized there’d been someone else in there with us. How had

it been for them, I wondered, to be watching us as we went up to wherever

our final destination was, knowing we were clearly headed to our wedding

night?

When we reached another floor, Bennett stepped out and carried me down what

felt like the longest hallway ever.

“I want you inside me,” I said into the warm skin of his neck.

“Soon.”

“You won’t make me wait?”

“I only want to get you there and naked. The plan beyond that is pretty

self-explanatory.”

Something about the walk felt familiar, some turn and body position, and

suddenly it hit me.

Of course.

Of course.

He came to a stop, maneuvered so he could pull a key from his pocket, and

opened the door.

I didn’t even have to take off my blindfold to know.

Carefully, he put me down and I reached up, slipping the satin up and off

my face. Yes. It was the room we’d stayed in at the W more than two years

ago—the exact one. The same couch, the same bed, the same balcony, the

same small kitchenette. Although, now it had a new, no-longer-broken desk.

The room where we first knew—really knew—that I was his and he was mine.

I could feel Bennett watching me, gauging my reaction, but I’d been so

overwhelmed with emotion all week that I felt a little numb, almost as if

on top of the family around us, the wedding, the vows, and how much I

needed to feel him, my mind clamped shut and I started to feel dizzy.

He stepped behind me, kissing my neck. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We never did lose what we found in this room,” he said, bending now and

kissing my shoulder. “In fact, we turned it into the happiest hate-love of

all time.”

“We sure did.” I turned to look at him, wondering if now was when he tore

my dress off and f*cked me facedown on the floor.

But his eyes were clear, careful. He stepped closer, bent to kiss my jaw.

“You smell so f*cking good.”

“What’s going on? I thought you were going to be rowdy.”

“Fucking your mouth in the car helped take the edge off.”

I closed my eyes, feeling memories storm into my thoughts.

“I’ve never done anything close to this and I don’t know how to navigate

it anymore,” I’d said.

“I told you. I haven’t been with anyone else since we started this,” he

’d said.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t take a room key if it’s put in your hand.

”

“Let’s call a truce for one night. I just need tonight,” he’d pled, and

given me three desperate kisses.

I opened my eyes. “How much of the first night in here are we going to

re-create?”

He shrugged and when he smiled, he looked so young, almost innocent. “I

think we’ll skip the fight in the bathroom, but I definitely hope you wake

me up with your mouth on my cock.” He leaned forward, kissing me once and

then pulling back to study my face. “Honestly, Chlo, I just want you out

of this dress. I feel like we haven’t been skin to skin in months.”

I nodded without speaking, still overwhelmed and exhaling in relief when

Bennett’s broad hands slid across my bare back, unbuttoning and pushing my

dress down my sides, holding it up just enough for me to step out of the

skirts. I turned back around to face him, wearing only a tiny strapless bra

and the smallest thong I think I’d ever worn in my life.

Without a word, he reached for me with lightning-quick hands and shredded

the panties, and then reached up to my chest, gripped my bra in one hand,

and savagely tore it from my body. Reflexively, I crossed my arms in front

of me, my pulse hammering.

“You had other things you were going to put on for me tonight?” he asked,

nodding to the bag he’d dropped in the entryway.

“I did . . .”

He was already shaking his head. “You won’t need them. Maybe in the

morning, but not right now.”

Bennett kissed my shoulder, running rough, impatient hands over my breasts,

my hips, my thighs. “Undress me now.”

It was suddenly surreal to be standing bare before him like this. He’d

seen me naked thousands of times, and God knows he’d bossed me around like

this even more often. But this moment felt so loaded. It wasn’t the easy

instinctual sex we had every night. This was Bennett, undressing me and

demanding to be similarly stripped so we could have Married Sex in a Fancy

Bed in an Emotionally Relevant Room.

The words wedding night, wedding night, wedding night pounded through my

head. Maybe this is exactly what he felt in the limo: the pressure of doing

it right, making it memorable.