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Emily
As I slowly rise from the depths of sleep, I grimace and groan at the sunlight flooding in through the windows. There is a dull ache not just in my head, but throughout my body as well. Even though some parts of my memory are spotty, I smile as I recall what we did the night before, and then feel the heat flare in my cheeks as I remember that we'd been seen.
I'd almost put a stop to it before we started, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't find the whole thing – from Aaron fingering me in the lounge to fucking me on the balcony where God and everybody could see us – incredibly hot. It was so out of character for me. I'm always so tightly controlled and straight-laced when it comes to just about everything. Especially sex.
And yet, letting go and doing something so out of the norm for me seemed to make it – mind-blowing. I've never come so hard or felt so incredible afterward. Maybe that's because it was out of character for me.
There is something about that man that makes me more willing to step outside of my comfort zone and push my boundaries. It's like he's the key that unlocked a door inside of me I never knew existed. He’s always had that, even when he took my virginity so many years ago. And something about him makes me feel safe enough to know that if I said stop, he would. I know that he respects me and would never push me to do something I'm completely opposed to. And that kind of trust, I have to admit, makes the sex all the better.
I roll over and find him lying there, eyes open, smiling at me.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
He shrugs. “Maybe a little.”
“Do you even know how creepy that sounds?”
“What?” he gasps, feigning shock. “Didn't they make a whole movie series about some sparkling vampire guy who did the same thing?”
“Probably.”
“Yeah,” Aaron continues. “Pretty sure they did. And all the women said it was the most romantic thing ever.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Obviously, a lot of women have pretty twisted ideas about what's romantic and not. I mean, how else do you explain that Fifty Shades stuff?”
Aaron laughs softly. “Don't judge too harshly,” he admonishes me and grins. “After all, I seem to recall a certain somebody in this bed who enjoyed getting spanked last night.”
As the memory flashes back into my head, my backside seems to tingle in response – which makes me blush even harder. I laugh and slap Aaron playfully in the chest.
“Shut up. Totally different,” I tell him.
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” he slowly enunciates and then laughs.
He pulls me to him and gives me a sweet, chaste kiss, the expression on his face one of childlike wonder and glee. He looks like a kid with a big, fat crush.
“You are adorable,” I say.
He laughs. “There are a lot of words people use to describe me. Adorable has never been one of them.”
“Yeah well, get used to it,” I inform him. “Because it's one hundred percent true.”
He kisses me again, holding my face in his hands, then pulls back and looks me in the eye while wearing a more serious expression.
“So, you're okay with everything that happened last night?” he asks.
I feel the slow grin stretching across my face as if my lips are moving of their own accord. I take stock again of the delicious aches in my body, snippets of fucking him on the balcony – indelible memories – flashing through my mind. Just recalling last night ignites a warmth inside of me and I feel myself growing wet again.
“Yeah, I'd say I'm more than okay with it,” I confess.
“Good. I'm glad to hear that,” he replies. “If you ever –”
“Don't worry,” I cut him off. “If you ever cross a line and I'm not into something, you will be the first to know.”
“Fair enough.”
It's then that I happen to catch sight of the ring on my finger – a ring that doesn't belong to me. One that I've never seen before. I look up at him, panic surging through me as one of those hazy pieces of my memory comes into focus and I recall what we did.
“Oh Jesus, Aaron,” I gasp. “We got married last night.”
