Clive grips me by the elbow and spins me around to face him. I gasp, locked in place between him and the hard table. “What we have,” he says, his playful lips tempting mine, “is about to get so much better.”
He lowers to his knees, pushing my skirt up as he goes. His head disappears beneath and I can’t take a full breath before he pushes my panties aside and latches his mouth around my throbbing clit.
I instantly moan, but I quickly remember where I am. I bite down as his tongue dances in circles. Our reflection in the mirror catches my eye; his thick form hidden between my legs beneath my skirt, his head sitting directly in my lap. If anyone were to walk in here, there’s no other way to explain it other than...
“Fuck,” I whisper.
Clive doesn’t stop. He keeps going, his determined tongue going faster and faster until I... I...
I come hard, releasing a week’s worth of tension on his face. As I’m coming, he stands and drops my skirt back down. He grips my chin, tilting my face to make me look him in the eyes.
“Do you feel that?” he asks.
I breathe hard, riding the wave. “Yes,” I say.
“Yes, what?”
My lips twitch. “Yes, Mr. Snow.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, smirking as he studies my face. “I want you to remember how you feel right now. That sense of ease and calm and satisfaction coursing through you.” He pinches my chin harder. “And I want you to remember who makes you feel this way.”
I shake, my inner muscles still pulsating. “You, Mr. Snow.”
“Yes.” He releases my chin and caresses my cheek. “Me. Your boyfriend. Your temp. Your Dom. Your husband.” He smiles. “It doesn’t matter what you call me. I will always and forever be the man who will get on his knees for you and make you feel like this.”
I close my eyes, buzzing pleasantly beneath his touch.
He kisses the edge of my mouth. “Does that make you happy, Mrs. Snow?” he asks.
I smile. “Yes.”
“Good.” He shifts back a step. “Now, turn around and place your hands on the table.”
I open my eyes, confused.
Clive tilts his head with a smile. “You’ve kept everyone waiting, Mrs. Snow.” He grabs his belt off the table. “Did you think I would let you get away with that?”
“No,” I answer.
“Turn around,” he says again.
I place my palms on the table, presenting my rear for delicious punishment.
Here comes the bride indeed.
Epilogue: Trix
“I can’t believe I made that,” I say aloud as I stare intently at the bundle in Lance’s arms.
That little nose? I did that. Those tiny ears? Those, too. That adorable mouth and brown, fuzzy hair and all ten itty bitty fingers and toes. All me, baby.
My little baby boy.
He lived inside of me for nearly a year. Ate what I ate. Heard what I heard. He was a part of me, but now he’s not. Now, he’s a living, breathing human being...
Who looks nothing like me?
This little nose? Not mine. Those tiny ears? Nope. That adorable mouth and brown, fuzzy hair? Nada. Zilch. We both have ten fingers and toes, so that adds up, I guess.
He’s the spitting image of his father.
“He’s so handsome,” Lance says, smirking happily from the chair next to my hospital bed. “Isn’t he handsome?”
“He will be,” I say. “Once he grows into his skin.”
Lance chuckles. “He’s a baby, Trix.”
“When does he get cute, though?” I ask. “Melanie was right. Fresh babies are just weird looking.”
He releases a heavy sigh. “I’m way too tired to argue with that.”
“Damn,” I say. “A lawyer is too tired to argue? Call the press.”
Lance goes quiet, but he keeps his smile. He gazes at his newborn son with wide-open, exhausted eyes. For a moment, his face goes blank, but I’ve learned over the last year not to take that personally.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” I ask.
Lance looks up at me and exhales hard. “I’m sorry, Trix.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”
“The last time I was here,” he begins slowly, “it was a confusing time. I became a father and a widow on the same day. It took a long time before I stopped dreading Haley’s birthday, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know.”
“But today...” His smile returns. “We made it through this.” He looks down again and takes the deepest breath I’ve seen him take in months. “I have a son.”
Lance’s history has always had a deep effect on me. To grow up so young, to be a full-time father at sixteen, and to have everything work out the way it did. I admire him so much. His life. His career. His amazing daughter.
I’ve never loved a man the way I love him.
“New Dad looks good on you,” I say.
“New Mom looks even better on you,” he replies.
“Really? Because I feel like crap.”
He chuckles. “No, you’re beautiful,” he says, his eyes soft on me. “You’re perfect. He’s perfect. This...” His smile grows. “I love you, Beatrix.”
My heart skips in my chest. I look from him to our baby boy in his arms. “He is pretty perfect, I guess.” I sigh, trying to picture what his life will be like.. especially once his uncles get a hold of him. “The first male born in a new Argento generation. He’s got his work cut out for him, that’s for sure.”
“Or, you know...” Lance furrows his brow. “He could go to Harvard. Like I did.”
He flashes a smile. I tilt my head.
“We’ll see,” I joke.
The door opens before he can interject.
Haley pokes her head into the room. “Can I come in?” she asks. “Is it safe?”
I chuckle. “Of course! Come meet your brother.”
She shuffles in with a large teddy bear in her arms with several balloons tied around its hands. “There were so many cute balloons in the gift shop. I couldn’t decide,” she says, slightly embarrassed as she sets them down.
“They’re awesome, Hal,” I say. “Thank you.”
Lance expertly cradles the baby as he stands
