29. Chapter 29

"Okay, mon chéri?"

"Of course," I tell my grandma.

She gives me a scrupulous look. It's been a few days since my video call with Kipp, and I can't get past the feeling that I screwed up. I should have been gentler with him, not barked when I know Kipp is sensitive to that sort of thing.

Damn it, I need to see him. I need to hold him in my arms and assure him we're okay. That I'm not mad at him. It's Antoni and Cameron who keep wriggling their way back into my life and messing shit up.

I pull my phone from my pocket while my grandma stirs the soup she's making.

Me: How's your day, sweetheart?

I drum my fingers while I wait for a reply. It doesn't come quickly.

"Still heading back tomorrow?" my grandma asks.

"Yeah," I answer. "Unless you need me to stay?"

"Pft," my grandpa says, hobbling slowly into the room. "I am not an invalid, Théodore. It has been nice to see you, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I never said you couldn't," I reply, not pointing out the fact that, for a couple days, he did need someone to take care of him. He'd only wave me off. "I'm glad I came home. I love you both."

My grandma pats my shoulder. "And we love you, mon chéri. Now, are you going to tell us what's going on between you and that nice young man before you go? Or shall I keep guessing?"

I huff a laugh, sitting at the table as the smells of herbs and chicken perfume the kitchen. Maman sits next to me while Papa prepares himself a cup of tea.

"It's complicated," I start with, "but I like him. A lot. We kind of accidentally got married a month back and have been almost dating ever since?"

My grandpa sets his spoon against the side of his mug, his expression more befuddled than anything. "Is that how kids do it these days?"

I snort. "No. Only us."

My grandma gives my arm a tap. "But he likes you, too, yes?"

"I think so," I tell her. God, I hope so.

She nods. "You'll bring him next time you come."

My smile is so wide, I can't even temper it.

"Now tell me about this wedding," she says. "Are there pictures?"

As I pull out my phone, it chimes with a text.

Babydoll: Today has been fine. Are you still getting back tomorrow?

Me: Yeah. I'll be home around 8.

It takes a few seconds for a reply to come through.

Babydoll: Okay. See you then.

I sigh. It's not the warmest response, but I'll fix it as soon as I'm home. For now, I open up my photos and show my grandparents the two pictures from our wedding. Not for the first time, I wish I could remember that night. I wish I could remember saying I do.

It feels like I'm vibrating as I walk the last few steps to my front door. It's only been six days since I saw Kipp in person—since he kissed me goodbye—but it feels like a lifetime ago. My trip put more than just physical distance between us, and I'm anxious to rectify that.

It's quiet as I slip my key in the lock and push open the door. "Kipp?" I call lightly.

He appears from down the hall, coming into the living area slowly. "Um, hey."

Christ, he looks nervous, like he's waiting for a blow. It damn near breaks my heart that I'm the cause of that. "Hey," I say softly, stepping toward him.

"Welcome home," he says, flashing me a smile that misses the mark.

"Kipp," I say gently, stopping in front of him. I slide my hands up into his hair, and his eyes feather closed before snapping open again.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he says quickly. "It wasn't my place to pry, and I owe you an apology for that. I forget, sometimes, that we're not actually…" He waves his hand in the scant few inches between us. "You know."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I tell him again. "I'm not mad, sweetheart."

His lips purse, like he doesn't quite understand. "Wait, what?"

"I'm not mad," I repeat. "And I handled that conversation poorly. I'm sorry."

His face goes through a complicated roll of emotions. "Well, I don't know what to do with that," he all but huffs, reminding me of a disgruntled kitten. I refrain from telling him so, fairly certain it wouldn't be appreciated right now.

"Did you want me to be angry with you?" I ask, stepping closer. Close enough to feel the heat of him at my front.

"Well, no," he says. "I just…expected it."

God.

"Kipp, I don't think I'm capable of true anger when it comes to you. You're quite possibly the sweetest man I know, and all I could think about these past few days was coming home to you. I wanted to hold you and kiss you and be with you again. I couldn't stop missing you."

"Really?" he asks hopefully.

"Really."

"I mean, it's kind of ridiculous, though, isn't it? It wasn't even a full week," he says, lips inching closer to mine. "I shouldn't want you this much."

My heart beats fast, fingers still caught in Kipp's hair.

"It doesn't make sense," he mumbles, blue eyes meeting mine before dropping to my lips.

"Sweetheart," I breathe.

Kipp doesn't reply. He just crashes his mouth into mine.

He moans into the kiss, as if he can't help it, his lips pillow-soft and sweet and feeling like home. It's such a relief, having this man at my fingertips, tasting his desire on my tongue, that I don't hold back. I let him taste every ounce of my returned desire for him, tightening my hands in his hair, holding him in my grasp as I take and take and take. He goes pliant under the onslaught, the tension draining from his body as the two of us stumble through the room toward the couch. Kipp hits it first, his ass landing on the back of the sectional, his hand traveling down to cup my hardening cock.

I have just enough sense to pull back before things get too heated. "Kipp, wait."

"What?" he groans, pulling me back in, nipping at my lip and rubbing me through my jeans. "Want you."

"I know, but fuck, hold on," I manage to get out, forcing a few inches between us. "We need to talk. About us."

He makes a disapproving sound, his lips shiny and red, hair disheveled and eyes swinging between my own. "We talked already. You said you missed me, and I missed you. God, how I missed you. Isn't that enough? I don't want to talk anymore, Teddy. I want you to spank me and fuck me and own me. I want you to keep me. Is that too much to ask?"

My pulse hammers, my mouth opening in shock.

"What do I need to do?" Kipp nearly whines. "Need me to repeat my safeword? Bananas. Now fucking wreck me, please. I need it."

He reaches for me again, but I grab his hand. "Kipp."

"No," he says, the one word panicked. "I want you to fill in that place that's been empty, Teddy, because no one else, least of all me, seemed to know what was missing until you. You showed up, and you made me feel whole, and you can't take that away. You can't. You make me happy. You make all the doubt quiet. You make me believe happily ever afters could be possible for a guy like me. So, please. Please don't ask me to leave you. Please don't make me."

Kipp's wide, blue eyes ping between my own, and I stutter a breath, tugging him to me until there's absolutely no space left between us. His hands grip my shirt, face tucked against my chest, and I hold him tight as his back heaves beneath my palms.

"Kipp," I breathe, my heart squeezing in a mixture of joy and aching regret that I avoided this conversation for too long. "I'm not asking you to leave. I won't."

"I don't want to, Teddy," he mumbles against my shirt. "I'm not ready to lose you."

I shush him, kissing his hair. "Sweetheart. When I said I want to talk about us, I meant the opposite. I… I don't want to keep pretending we're married."

Slowly, he leans back, meeting my gaze with wet eyes. "We are married."

"You know what I mean," I say softly. "I don't want to pretend this isn't real, Kipp. That I don't love you and you don't have feelings for me, and all of this—all the nights together and laughing and fucking and goddamn moments where you're in my arms just like this—that it doesn't mean something more. This isn't fake. You and me, it's not a lie. I can't pretend otherwise anymore."

Looking dazed, he shakes his head. "You love me?"

"I do. So fucking much. I love you, Kipp."

He opens and closes his mouth. "But I'm such a mess."

I huff a laugh, my eyes stinging. "My mess," I say, bringing my palms to his face and kissing him lightly. "My husband. My chéri. My beautiful, perfect babydoll."

His fingertips dig into my chest, forehead coming to rest against my own. "God, I love you, too, Teddy. And I'm so glad we got drunk married. Because if we hadn't, I don't think we'd be here. And I really like it here."

"Yeah?" I croak out.

"Yeah. I'm quite possibly the luckiest guy in the world to have landed you. I think it was the neon shooters. Went straight to your head."

I chuckle hoarsely as Kipp lifts his face, his lips brushing my own.

"I do," he says. "I want this, too. No more pretending."

I kiss his cheek, his forehead, his lips, my hands shaking until Kipp steadies my wrists.

"Now would you please fuck me?" he asks quietly. "I want you to show me I'm yours. I want you to prove it."

I blow out a breath before hoisting Kipp over my shoulder. He yelps happily, his hand slipping down under my waistband and grabbing my ass. He doesn't let go until I toss him onto the bed, and then he watches me hungrily as I shuck my clothes. Naked, I grab his ankle, tugging him to the edge of the mattress. His breath hitches, but he groans as I flip him onto his stomach and tug his feet to the floor. Reaching underneath him, I undo his jeans quickly, pulling the material down with his briefs. Kipp lifts his foot free, widening his stance as I spread his ass cheeks, and then he grabs the comforter, moaning as I drop to my knees and tongue his ass.

"Fuck, fuck," he chants, pushing back against my face. The thwack against his ass cheek rings through the room. Kipp's moan quickly follows. "Teddy."

I hitch up his leg, sliding his knee onto the bed so he's wide open for me. "Keep it there," I tell him, diving back in.

Kipp groans long and low, the most gorgeous sound. He reaches back and grabs under his knee, keeping his leg in place as I loosen him with my tongue. Once I'm able to spear it inside of him, I grab the lube.

"You want it hard tonight, babydoll?"

"Yes. God, please," he says.

"You want me to show you who you belong to?"

He groans, pushing against the fingers I slip inside his ass. "Yes."

"You want me to keep you?" I ask, pumping into him, my other hand pressing indentations into his ass cheek.

He hiccups a breath, tightening around me before loosening again. "Please." It's a whisper, and I kiss his ass cheek, adding a third finger.

Once Kipp is a mumbling, incoherent mess, I pull my fingers free and roll on a condom. I maneuver him onto his back before hefting him up into my arms. Kipp's eyes go wide as I spin us, sitting on the bed with Kipp in my lap.

"Ride me, babydoll. Show me how much you want me."

Kipp curses, fumbling below himself for my cock. Holding it aloft, he sits down, taking me into his body with a wild groan, his head tossed back. I sink my fingers into his hair, holding him in place as his ass comes to rest on my thighs.

"Squeeze me," I tell him.

He does, eyes half-lidded, hands on my waist.

"Now move."

Kipp leans forward, his head dropping beside mine as he starts to ride my cock. He loops his arms over my shoulders, finding purchase, and I grab his ass, feeling the sway of him, the jiggle as he moves up and down. His body fits me like a glove, hot and tight and perfectly slick, and as soon as Kipp finds a rhythm, I bring my hand down against his ass cheek hard.

He jolts, his cock bucking against my stomach as he groans.

"Don't stop," I tell him. He picks up his pace, body sinking over me again and again. "You want me to spank you and fuck you and own you?"

"God, yes," he whispers.

I slap his other cheek, and Kipp cries out, but he doesn't stop moving.

"Fuck, fuck, Teddy."

"You want me to prove that you're mine?" I ask, giving him another slap.

He moans, his hands scrambling at my back, his ass flexing under my fingertips.

"Words," I remind him.

"Yes, yes," he says, voice quiet and already half-slurred. "I want…"

"What do you want?"

He squeezes tight around me when I give his other cheek another slap, his rhythm faltering. "I want you to take me to that hazy place, Teddy. I want to be good for you."

"You're so good for me, sweetheart," I tell him, pulling him off my cock.

He objects for half a second, but then he groans as I shift him face down on the bed. Sitting beside him, I run my hand over the pink on his ass. I slide my fingers down his crease, teasing over his hole, and he shifts up, trying to take me inside his body. I pull away.

"I'm going to take you right up to the edge, babydoll. But you're not going to come. I want my cock inside you when that happens."

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, rubbing his erection against the sheets. "Anything you want. Please."

"Gorgeous," I mutter, bringing my hand down on him hard.

He groans, the sound eaten by the mattress, and I do it again. I gentle the hits quickly, giving his body time to release those endorphins that will leave him floating. It's about prolonged impact, not causing maximum pain, and when Kipp starts to mellow, his body going lax, I know we're there.

"Beautiful," I praise, running my palms over his skin, slapping him lightly. His moan is soft and sweet. I could make him come like this, I know I could, but I slip a finger inside his body, rubbing, coaxing.

His answer is a whine, and I roll him onto his back. "Teddy," he breathes.

"I've got you," I tell him, notching against his entrance. The glide inside him is smooth, and I wrap his legs around my hips before bracing over his body, lips at his cheek. I kiss him there and on the other side, too. His nose. His lips. He blinks up at me, crossing his heels over my ass and urging me closer.

The first slam of my cock inside Kipp's body has him moaning, his head thrown back. I give it to him hard, knowing each slap of my hips on his sore ass will send him higher. His legs don't fall, but he's utterly boneless beneath me, completely lost in his submission. I vow then and there that I will always treat him as the precious gift he is.

I know Kipp won't last long. And I don't try to delay the inevitable. We have our whole lives to do this over and over again, don't we? We have all the time in the world.

I bring my lips to Kipp's ear as I fuck him delirious, telling him how good he is, how beautiful, how perfect and gorgeous and mine. He takes everything I have to give him, and when I feel his ass clamping down on my dick and hear the little oh, ohs coming from his lips, I take his mouth, wrap my hand around his dick, and stroke. It's all over from there. Kipp floods the space between our bodies, his cum on my hand and our stomachs and our chests. I stroke him through it, my own orgasm detonating like an expertly timed bomb. I jerk against him as I come, grinding shallowly, trying fruitlessly to push my cum as deep into his body as it will go. One day, maybe soon, we can do that. If Kipp wants to. I have a feeling he won't be at all opposed to wearing my mark inside his body.

When my ears have stopped ringing and I've come down from my high, I let go of Kipp's dick and kiss him softly. His lips meet mine, a slow, lazy press. He's still out of it, and I pull carefully from his body to dispose of the condom. He mumbles incoherently until I'm draped back over him. I hold him tight, careful to keep pressure off his reddened ass. I just hold him and kiss him and murmur affectionate words as he drifts in the clouds.

They've done studies on impact play and subspace. The same stress hormones that rise in Kipp's body during a spanking lower in mine. That stress reaction is needed for his body to dump those feel-good endorphins that allow him to reach nirvana. But for the Dom, for me, spanking is calming all on its own.

I feel nothing but calm and contentment as I hold Kipp in my arms. And I know part of it is the natural physical response to what just happened. But a big part of it, I'm certain, is Kipp. My husband. The man I tried so desperately not to love. I've never been happier to have failed.

"Teddy?" Kipp mumbles, shifting slightly.

I lean back to give him space. "Okay?"

"Yeah," he says quietly, blinking up at me. "So good."

I kiss his nose lightly. "You were perfect, babydoll."

"Yeah?" His smile is sweet, and I kiss that, too.

"Yes. Perfect and mine."

"And you mean it, right?" he asks. "I'm yours?"

There's that calm. That contentment. "Yeah, sweetheart. You're all mine. And I'm yours."

He sighs, the sweetest sound. "Drunken weddings for the win."

I huff a laugh, squeezing my husband tight. "Drunken weddings for the win," I agree.