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Brooklyn doesn’t stop smiling from the moment she walks down the aisle to when I finally get her all to myself in the honeymoon suite of Golden Creek’s historic hotel down the street.

“Was it everything you imagined?” I ask when we’re finally alone, pulling her into my arms and turning her in slow circles, dancing to music that exists only in our heads.

“More,” she says. “It was perfect.”

“And it’s only the beginning,” I say. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to write our story together.”

I’ve got my hands on her hips and she’s swaying slightly, brushing herself against me, making me hard and hungry in an urgent way. She smiles when she feels my cock rigid against her thighs. “We should start tonight,” she says, one hand sliding down the front of my pants, teasing me.

I groan. “That sounds like a good idea. What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” she says, biting her lip, “I love our story the way it is now, but what do you say we make a sequel?”

“A sequel…” Her smile falters for a second but I rush to reassure her. “I can’t wait to start a family with you, Brooklyn.”

“Really?”

I nod. “I want a house full of kids, laughter, love.”

“That’s exactly what I want,” she beams. “A big old farmhouse just like the Bakers’, cozy and homey, with more than enough love to go around.”

“I’ve got some love for you right now,” I say, my hands gliding up the antique lace on the bodice of her dress. I cup her breasts and she lets out a moan, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Come on, baby,” she murmurs, opening her eyes and taking my hand. “Make love to me.”

She leads me to the big bed in the middle of the suite and turns around so I can undo the buttons running down the back of her gown. I take my time, opening her like the best, most precious gift I’ve ever gotten, kissing every inch of her back as I peel the dress off her.

When Brooklyn’s wedding gown is a puddle of sequins and lace on the floor, I lift her into my arms and lay her down on the bed. I move to stand up again, to take my suit off, but she grabs me by my tie, a mischievous grin playing over her lips.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“I was going to strip for you.”

“Uh-uh,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re staying right here with me.”

She pulls me back down on top of her, spreading her thighs and wrapping me in her warmth. We kiss, our tongues dancing over each other, while her fingers work between us, popping the buttons of my shirt and then teasing my cock as she unzips my pants.

I get onto my knees to finish undressing, my gorgeous bride naked beneath me. And as I drink her in, she lets one hand trail down her belly and dip between her thighs.

“What a beautiful sight,” I groan, my cock in my fist, aching and ready for her.

“I’m so wet for you,” she says, her fingers sliding through her perfect pussy. Then she sits up, and takes my cock in her hand, coating me with her juices.

“Oh God,” I groan again. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

She smiles. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for you, Prescott.”

I laugh, then pounce on her, pinning her shoulders back against the bed. “Are you really trying to one-up me right now?”

I nibble her earlobe, then her neck, and she giggles and squirms beneath me. When my bites turn hungrier, her laughter becomes a chorus of sighs and moans that fill the room and make me shiver with desire. My cock slides between her slick folds until finally, she’s begging for me and I’m not sure I can take much more teasing either.

“Fuck me, Pres,” she whines in my ear, her pussy grinding against my cock. “Please.”

I draw back, looking into those big sapphire eyes full of love as I plunge into her and we both gasp as the sensations overtake us.

“Mmm, yes,” Brooklyn says, “harder.”

I thrust deep inside her, loving every whine, every moan, every little involuntary muscle twitch that tells me Brooklyn has given herself over completely to me, to the pleasure I’m giving her, to our love.

I fuck my wife for the very first time, making sure she comes hard around my cock, and when we’re lying together after—taking a little break to catch our breath—I hold my curvy librarian in my arms and promise her that every night will be like this one.

Full of love.

Spent with each other.

Writing our story and cherishing every minute of it.

Epilogue 2

Brooklyn

Five years later…

“‘Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store,’” I read aloud, my little girl’s finger tracing the words on the page.

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