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I didn't want any of this. I walked away from this. I didn't want to be prince, royalty. But right now, in this moment, I cannot wait to put that crown on my wife's head.
She leads me into the bedroom and points to the cushion on the bed where the tiara is resting.
Her hair is down, and before picking up the crown I move behind her, gathering her hair in my hands. "I think we should put your hair up."
Her hand goes to cover her tattoo at the base of her neck. "Everyone will see my honeybee. I don't know if that's very regal."
"It is. Because it's you. And I love this fucking bee." I lean over and kiss it.
I feel a little tremor go through her body. "Whatever you want," she tells me.
Words like that seem so innocent, and yet I'm semi-hard from them. "I do love when you’re submissive to me, Princess." I kiss her again, dragging my lips from the back of her neck to the tip of her shoulder. "How are the panties?"
She leans back against me. "Wet," she said softly.
I drag my lips back across her soft skin and up the side of her neck to her ear. "Good. They're only going to get wetter."
"We’re going to dinner with your family."
"Are you saying that you don't think I can turn you on no matter where we are? Challenge accepted."
She turns in my arms and smiles up at me. "I might actually end up enjoying this dinner after all."
I run my hands down her back to her ass and give her a little squeeze. "Don’t distract me. We need to get your hair up. Then I need to get dressed. And we need to get downstairs. We have guests to greet." I lean in and give her a kiss. "But if you're a good girl, I will reward you appropriately later."
She wiggles her hips against me. "What if I'm a bad girl?"
I give her a wicked grin. "Fuck around and find out."
She laughs and pulls out of my arms. We go into the bathroom, and I help her put her hair up. She’s always amazed by my ability to help with her hair and I silently thank both Fiona and Saoirse for all of the times they demanded help with theirs. At the time I wasn't as grateful as I should've been. I should probably mention that to them sometime.
I change into my tux, and then help Abigail place the tiara on her head, arranging a few curls around the base.
I suck in a breath as I stand behind her, looking at her in the mirror. "Abigail—” I have to clear my throat. “You look more gorgeous in that than I even expected."
She touches the cool metal reverently. "Do you think so? It doesn't look strange on me?"
"It absolutely does not. You were born to wear that."
The statement, and the truth of it, hits me directly in the chest.
This woman was meant to be mine.
We’re an unlikely pair. She seems like an improbable princess. Hell, I'm a reluctant royal myself. But here we are. I've never felt this way about anyone before. And we’re going to make a fucking difference. Together.
I’m keeping her.
So, I'm going to need to tell her how I feel soon. I'm the guy who loves words and mine are bubbling up higher and stronger every time we’re together. I'm not going to be able to keep them inside much longer.
I don't want to freak her out. I don't want to make things awkward. But I'm going to have to tell my wife that I'm madly in love with her.
I know we agreed we weren’t going to make this about feelings. I know she said she didn’t want that. She wanted this to be straightforward and goal oriented.
But Jonah said she’d fall in love with me in two months and while she hasn’t said it, I can’t expect her to. Abigail doesn’t use words. She uses actions.
And she’s here. With me. Going to a family dinner, wearing a fucking princess crown.
That has to mean something.
