Chapter 6

Stepping into the bedroom, Richie loosened his tie as he crossed the room and opened the French doors, letting the night air in to their room.  He stepped out onto the terrace and looked around.  The backyard was quiet now, the fairy lights no longer twinkled in the trees.  The candles and torches had been extinguished, save a couple scattered near the hot tub where someone still lingered. 

He pulled the tie from his collar and slipped his suit jacket off, laying both over the railing, the moonlight glinting off the platinum band on his finger.  He rubbed it with the pad of his thumb.  It felt good, right, in a way little had for far too long. 

The deep timber of Jon’s laugh drifted up to him.  Richie thought of the changes that his life was insistent on taking.  A sigh escaped him and he tried to let it all go.  He was supposed to be focusing on his new bride and their wedding night.  He turned to sit on the chaise to wait for Stephanie and found her standing in the doorway.  “Hey Sweetheart.  Lily go down okay?”

She nodded, "out like a light."  She cocked her head and studied him for a moment.  Something was on his mind.  Something other than wedding festivities and wedding night activities.  “Wanna talk about it?”

He reached for her, grasping her hand and tugging her close.  “Not really.  Not tonight.”  But he felt steadier for knowing that he could tell her anything and she would listen, really listen, not just offer up platitudes or say whatever she thought he wanted to hear.  She’d help him work through it and help him find the right answer, for him.  She was one in a million.  He dipped his head, his mouth stopped a breath away from hers.  “No talking tonight, unless I’m whispering all the dirty things I want to do to you in your ear.”

Still on a slow burn from their first dance, Stephanie’s knees weakened and she felt the flush rise up her chest to her face.  “Talk dirty to me, Rich.”

His mouth took hers, the kiss as slow and sensual as their first dance had been.  He trailed his fingers up and down her spine again.  He swallowed her groan.  “You make me fucking crazy when you wear things like this.”  His fingers dipped into the low back of her dress.  His lips nipped at hers, “knowing you haven’t been wearing a bra” his fingers slid up her back again, tangling in her hair until he found the clasp at the back of her neck.  “I’ve been fucking hard since you stepped out on the damn patio tonight.”  He released the catch and the front of her dress dropped, leaving her top half naked.  He didn’t touch her yet.  His hands slid around to her back again, seeking out the zipper.  Finding it, he lowered it, slowly, one metallic click at a time. 

She writhed against him, her nipples hard and aching as they brushed against the front of his shirt.  She couldn’t seem to get her bearings, couldn’t make her arms move.  “Please” she murmured against his mouth. 

“Please what, darlin’?”  The dress dropped to the patio leaving her clad in only the tiniest, laciest excuse for underwear he had ever seen her wear.  “Fuck me.”

“No” she whispered. 

“No?”

She got her arms to move and her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt.  “No, Rich.  Fuck me.”  She pushed at his shirt, “now.”  She couldn’t stand it.  She needed him to touch her, to take her, needed him to be inside her.

Dropping his shirt behind him, he lifted her from the pink puddle of her dress and set her on the table, pressing her back until she braced herself on her arms.  “Oh, there will be fucking, but there’s no hurry tonight darlin’.”  His fingers skimmed down her front, between her breasts, tracing along the lacy band of her good-for-nothing panties.  He heard her breath hitch and he snuck two fingers inside the scrap of lace.  “I hope you’re not too attached to these.”

She shook her head as he tugged.  “They served their purpose.”

His eyes shot to hers, incredulous.  “Who are you again?”  He gave one last sharp tug and the panties came away in his fingers and he tossed them over toward her dress. 

Her husky chuckle was cut off when his fingers delved inside her.  “I’m your wife” her breath caught again when he twisted his fingers and rubbed, finding the spot that nearly rocketed her off the table.  “Jesus Rich, just fuck me already.”

He slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her, bringing his thumb into play across her clit.  “No, the woman I married wouldn’t purposely try to drive me insane with tiny bits of pink lace.”

Her head dropped back and her hips lifted to meet each maddeningly slow stroke.  “I thought” she nearly stuttered when his thumb made a slow circle.  She swallowed heavily.  “Wedding gift…” he did that circle thing again with his thumb and she very nearly came apart.  “I thought they’d make a nice wedding gift.”

His fingers stopped moving, “that so?” 

She nodded.

“Well” he dropped to his knees with a grin.  “Let me show my appreciation properly then.”  He kissed up the inside of her thigh, “just be quiet Sweetheart” he shifted his glance out across the backyard.  He could just make out the silhouettes by the hot tub.  “There are still a few people out there.”

She was so close that whoever was out on the patio could have been right here on the terrace with them and she wouldn’t have cared less.  “Just hurry up for fuck’s sake!”

He took his time.  Like a cat with cream, he savored every bit of her.  When she was writhing against him, he sucked gently on her clit, keeping her right on that keen edge of orgasm.  When she went, he was going to be inside her and they would hit that crescendo together. 

She was so close she was going to fly apart and not even humpty dumpty’s men would be able to put her back together again.  She buried her hands in his hair and tugged, “Rich, God, please!”  Why was he torturing her?

Easing back he freed his hair and stood, opening his pants.  He was so hard he couldn’t be sure he would blow his load the minute he got inside her.  “I’m here” he murmured,” finding her mouth with his, “I’m right here, Sweetheart.”  He pulled her to the edge of the table and plunged into her.

She reached up and gripped his shoulder, her relief so great at finally having him where she wanted him that her orgasm roared through her like a freight train, taking them both on a wild ride until both were limp and spent.  She nearly fell back against the table, Richie’s grip kept her upright.  Panting he raised his head, “hang on.”  He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out.  Did it a second time.  “Darlin’, are you okay?”

Her hand slid from his shoulder, laying limply on table.  “I think so.”  She breathed deeply and the table rocked under her.  “Not so sure about the table though.”

He shuffled back, helping her to stand, “we can replace it.” 

“Again you mean?”  Smirking, she took another steadying breath.

Sucking in more air he chuckled as he toed off his shoes and dragged off his pants.  “Yes, again.  Smartass.  Let’s go inside.  We’re not likely to break the bed tonight.”