Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(99)

“And by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The pastor faced me with an amused smile. “Romeo, you may now kiss your bride… again.”

I didn’t waste any time and took Molly’s mouth with mine, softly, savoring every moment of this unbelievable feeling taking hold.

Molly was my wife.





36





Pulling my new wife closer in my arms, I whispered, “You ready to go?”

Her bite on her bottom lip and her hooded eyes told me she was. I stood and faced our guests, who were finishing up eating. “Guys, we’re heading out.”

Ally jumped to her feet in protest. “No, you haven’t done the first dance yet!”

Shit. I looked down to Molly, who had surprise written all over her face.

“First dance? But there’s hardly anyone here. We don’t have to do a first dance.” I smiled as she tried to get out of it, but I held out my hand, an expectant look on my face.

Sighing in defeat, she took my offered hand and I pulled her to the small patio, surrounded by thousands of white lights. Ally ran to the stereo and the opening bars of our wedding song played. Molly glanced up at me, eyes glistening.

“Romeo… how?”

Stroking a loose piece of hair from her face, I said, “A few months ago you told me about this song. I thought it could be our tribute to your folks by making it our song too.”

I remembered that day so well…



“Mol? Where are you, baby?”

I found Molly stood in the kitchen of our new place, making breakfast, music playing beside her from her iPhone speakers. I saw her shoulders shaking and I panicked. I instantly moved in behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Turning into my chest, she smiled a watery smile and set to wiping at her tears. “It’s silly. I’m being silly.”

I knew I was frowning. I was so lost as to what the hell was happening. “Mol, tell me what’s wrong. Has something bad happened?”

Laughing through her sobs, she said, “No, I promise, Rome. It’s just…”

“What?”

“This song.” Her eyes met mine, and I knew I still looked just as confused.

“You’re upset because of this song?”

“Not upset.” I watched as she took a deep breath, and I lifted her to the counter, cupping her face so I could see her better as I placed myself between her legs.

“You’re going to have to explain, baby. Why are you crying because of a song?”

“It was my mother’s favorite song. My dad would play it on their wedding anniversary, a kind of tribute, I suppose. It’s kind of a tradition… a good one. I loved it, looked forward to it every year. He did it so I would know my mum in some small way, and you know what? It did make me understand her a little. After Dad died, my grandma continued to do it for them both. And well, when she passed too, it was something I continued doing for myself. When I hear it, it feels like they are all somehow still with me.”

I let myself exhale and pressed my forehead to hers. It was her parents’ wedding anniversary? Fuck. I didn’t know what the hell to say in response, so I simply said, “I love you, baby.”

Brushing a kiss on my lips, she whispered, “I love you too.”



Sting’s “Fields of Gold” played as my wife and I swayed on the spot, happy tears falling from Molly’s eyes. I knew I’d done right by this song. It was meaningful to her, and now it would forever remind her of this day. No words needed to be said, and I knew she would understand why I’d chosen it—I wanted her to feel like her family was here, in some small way.

Our family and friends stood and watched us take our first dance as man and wife and eventually joined us on the floor.

It was perfect.

As the last few bars played out, Molly lifted her head, her hand pressed to my cheek, and she whispered, “Let’s go, Rome. I need to have you alone.”



“Christ, how many damn buttons are on this dress!” I complained as I tried to get my girl naked, the long line of tiny pearl buttons at the back of the dress dangerously close to being ripped apart due to my increasing frustration.

“Hurry,” Molly ordered, her voice rough with need. We were in a private luxury cabin. We picked somewhere off the beaten track, completely secluded, for our first night together as a married couple.

As I unfastened the last button, I pushed the tight dress apart and it fell to the floor.

Fuck. Me.

“Mol, you’re friggin’ killing me,” I groaned as she stood before me in a white lace bustier, tiny white lace panties, white stockings and a friggin’ garter wrapped around her thigh.

Smiling, she asked, “You like?”

“I f*ckin’ love!” I croaked, my cock nearly bursting through the zipper in my damn tight pants. I quickly rid myself of my jacket and shirt, snapping the fly to give my crushed dick some relief.

Molly stood before me, looking like a virginal goddess, and my hands twitched, needing to touch her. “Get on the bed, baby,” I instructed, watching her tight ass as she climbed on the mattress and sat up on her knees, waiting for what came next.

“Lose the bustier.”