The Wedding Night

Zach

“Now what?” I asked and turned to Dare.

My husband.

It was still hard to believe. To even fathom the idea that I wasn’t just in a happy relationship with a great guy, but that I was married to him. Bound to the sweetest, most caring guy ever for life.

I could burst from how ecstatic and warm the whole idea—heck, the whole ordeal—made me, but instead, I focused on the words coming out of his mouth.

“Okay, now the pie crust is ready, we need to put all the filling ingredients in a bowl and mix.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I know that. But how do you get the filling to set so perfectly and not turn out all soupy?”

I watched him fill a large bowl with blueberries, sugar and lemon zest then he sprinkled some cinnamon and I bit my lip.

“I thought I was making the pie?”

Dare chuckled and took a step back, giving me control of the bowl, but I didn’t bite. I grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him back to me and back to my lips.

“I didn’t say you needed to go all the way to Spain. Get back here.”

He seized the opportunity to wrap his hands around my waist and drive his tongue into my mouth. I opened up to receive him, but after a taste or two, he pulled away leaving me hanging.

“Cock tease,” I mumbled.

His response was to just narrow his eyes and smirk.

“You need to focus or you’ll never learn my secret recipe,” he said, giving my butt a squeeze that did nothing to tame my growing erection.

“Pfft,” I blew raspberries. “There’s nothing secret here. I know all this already.”

“Oh do you?” He leaned on the counter and went all smug on me but I chose to focus on the bowl with the pie filling. Or I’d ravish my husband.

“Yeah. This might look too dry now but it won’t be. Once it’s in the oven it will all turn to jam.”

Dare laughed and slid the cornstarch across the kitchen island in front of me.

“You’re forgetting a key ingredient.”

“Oh yeah. The one ingredient to save us all. That won’t work. It still won’t bind the filling.”

“You’re rushing my love. If there’s one secret to a good pie, that’s patience.”

I huffed and crossed my arms as I watched him add the cornstarch into the filling then he took another small bowl of blueberries and handed me a fork.

“What’s that for?” I asked with fake annoyance.

“To mash them with.”

“Huh?”

“Mash them and add them to the filling.”

I snatched the fork with a groan and did as instructed.

“It’s like you’re not hearing me. It doesn’t need more wet ingredients. It needs more binding agent. Maybe if we increase the cornstarch. Though adding more will turn the filling to rock.”

All Dare did was raise an eyebrow and my shoulders sagged.

“Fine. Fine. Patience. I know”

I finished mashing the blueberries and as I did, he walked up to the cupboard and pulled out the all-purpose flour.

“Here. Let’s add some of that in there too,” he said, and after measuring a little, he handed it to me.

I lit up.

“Oh you cheeky fuck. Is that your secret ingredient? Flour? For fuck’s sake you could have said that ages ago,” I said and took the flour from him to add to the filling.

As Dare laughed, watching me, I mixed all the ingredients anew before adding them to the pie tin and I finished it off with a lattice design on top.

Once it was in the oven, I set the timer and turned back to my husband.

“I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me for two years and all along the secret ingredient was fucking flour.”

He shrugged and approached me. I opened my arms to receive him but instead of hugging me, he leaned over me and turned up the timer to eighty minutes.

“What’s that for?”

“I told you. It takes patience. And a little longer in the oven.”

“The crust will burn.”

He shook his head, opened the oven and pulled out the tin then proceeded to wrap tin foil around the pie dish leaving only a small hole in the middle where the filling could bubble over and escape from.

“Now it goes in,” he said and put it back in the oven.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You have bested me.”

He simply smiled and this time when he reached over, he grabbed me by the small of my back and pulled me onto him.

“I certainly haven’t. You, my love, are the best. I just have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

I pressed my lips together but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Not even as Dare kissed me and this time he wasn’t teasing when he guided his tongue into my mouth.

His hands slid down to my buttcheeks and I jumped, wrapping my legs around his hips. He stumbled backwards to the kitchen island and let out a groan.

“Are you okay?” I flinched.

“Never better.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then why did you groan?”

“Because I’ve got a boner the size of Connecticut?”

“Oh,” I said.

“Oh indeed,” he answered and resumed our kiss.

The heat that grew in my body turned to goosebumps that fluttered down my spine and made me throb.

A moan climbed up my throat and as it was about to escape I ground against his hard bulge.

Dare swallowed my moan as if it was the oxygen he needed to stay alive and in a single breath he spun us around and laid me down on the kitchen counter. We let go of each other and started unbuttoning each other, making quick work of our clothes before reuniting our lips and bodies.

Dare cupped my face as his cock pressed against my hole, threatening to breach me, and I let out a groan.

“Oh god,” I mumbled.

“I know,” he said. “Is it me, or is getting married making us hornier?”

“I don’t know,” I said into his mouth, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I will annul this wedding so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

He laughed and pulled back from both my body and the counter.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To get the lube,” he said.

“That’s too far away,” I whined. “Use whatever.”

Dare looked around us trying to find a solution. I reached for the small ramekin of shortening and was about to rub some over my hole when Dare grabbed me by the wrist.

I looked at him and he shook a jar of coconut oil in his hand. I sighed with relief and pulled back my buttered fingers then watched him use the coconut oil to slick us both up.

He slipped a cautious finger inside me as if testing out its effectiveness, then added another but he didn’t waste any more time. He replaced them quickly with his cock and leaned over me, burying himself deep inside me.

I wrapped my arms around him to prop myself up and keep myself close to him. That way I could feel his trembling, roaring body against mine.

I gasped as he slammed into me over and over again, getting thicker and deeper, turning me into a heaving, whimpering mess.

“You like this, husband?” he grumbled and his stare bore deep into mine.

“Ngh…yeah. Keep fucking me, husband. I want your seed inside me.”

My voice came out short and pathetic but I didn’t care. I was with Dare. With my husband. With my one and only mate who never judged and always took care of me.

We took care of each other. Always and no matter what. That was why we worked together. That was how all partnerships should work, but if our past had taught us anything, it was how hard it was to find mutual respect and adoration.

We had lightning in a bottle, and we’d be fools to ever let that go.

I held him by the nape of his neck and gazed into his beautiful green eyes thinking how far we’d come. Both as individuals and as a couple. How happy he made me. How loved he made me feel. And how there was nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for this man.

“Gah…God. I love you baby,” he panted, a tremble that reached my lips and pushed me to kiss him like our life depended on it.

I held on to him and sucked in a breath making my hole tighter around his dick. He twitched and groaned, plunging into me one final time before I felt the heat of his seed fill me up inside.

His breath turned rough, he collapsed on top of me and as we let go of each other’s mouths I whispered back an “I love you” in his ear.

We lay there, entangled in each other for several moments, relishing in this shared feeling between us, and watched the pie bake in the oven. Or at least I did.

When Dare managed to compose himself, he slipped out of me and crouched down so he could take me in his mouth.

I went hard again.

“I have a secret of my own,” I told him, sneaking a glance at him but turning my attention to the pie.

I didn’t want to come yet and if I watched him suck me off that was exactly what I’d do.

“What…is…that?” he said between mouthfuls.

I sat up on my elbows and shrugged.

“Well…how do I say this? Gosh.”

Dare stopped blowing me for a second and I glared at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and returned to his task.

“The truth is…well, I’ve known how to make your pie from the start. Kinda.”

“Huh?” he hummed and I could feel his intense stare on the side of my face.

“I didn’t know how to at first, but then one day I was washing up after you and figured out what ingredients you’d used so I googled it and…I found the recipe you’ve been using.”

“What?” He pulled me out of his mouth and gaped. “Why didn’t you say so?”

I turned to look at him and pushed my lips to the side.

“Because I liked you teaching me and me pretending I was hopeless. You always tried to make it up to me afterwards. Case in point.” I raised an eyebrow at him, standing behind my cock, holding it with his left hand. His wedding ring a shiny gold beacon in the brightly-lit kitchen.

I bit my lip and choked back a groan. Who knew a wedding ring could be so hot?

He grimaced.

“And why are you telling me now?” he asked.

I smiled.

“Well, now we’re married and you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, so I figured I could hedge my bets.”

He gasped.

“You’re so naughty!" he growled.

“Oh yeah?” I smirked. “Prove it.”

He glared at me and wrapped his lips around my cock. And prove it, he did.