Jameson kisses my neck before sitting in the chair across from mine. He pours us two glasses of brandy, each perfectly symmetrical.
Our wedding was today. It was extraordinary, bold, beautiful. It was a Hawthorne wedding, after all. They never fail to deliver.
"How does it feel to be married?" Jameson asks me, taking a sip of the liquor. In a moment, the honey colored alcohol is gone, and Jameson twirls the glass between his long fingers, setting it down on the table.
I'm tempted to say something bold and life changing, but all I have on my mind is his beautiful body and delicate hands, and I'm finding it very difficult to stop looking at his lap.
"The same as when we were dating," I admit.
Jameson flashes a smile.
"Come here," He sets down his drink on the coffee table, holding out his arms for me. I sit on his lap, resting my head on his shoulder. He strokes my side, his thumb exploring the dip there.
"I only want you, Heiress," Jameson whispers, his sweet breath tickling the curve of my ear, "And I want you to be happy, whatever that takes. I want your soul, your body, your bad days, your good nights. I want your everything, all the time."
"You'll give me anything?" I question, pulling back to look at his face. His smooth green eyes flash with something like desire, but maybe that word is too weak.
Jameson smiles, slowly, "Yes. Anything."
"Then," I stand, stepping back, knees meeting the edge of our bed. I grab the end of my shirt, and pull it up over my head. I do the same with my pants, presenting myself to Jameson in my underwear. Those are soon gone too. "love me."
My husband lunges for me, and he brings me down onto the bed, heart pumping, eyes wild.
