Page 22 of Give It a Day (Song-Smith #1)

snippets from the first week of their honeymoon

Kayla

On the first morning of our honeymoon, I wake up beside him in bed, with him saying, “It’s been one day, and I still love you.”

Later that evening in our suite, we break the bed.

There’s a cracking sound under us as the bed leans, sliding our sweaty, naked bodies to the left.

I laugh, and he looks so confused, which makes me laugh even harder.

Dae says silly things all the time, but this time, he says, “I asked for the sturdiest bed in this place. Why’d they give us this one? ”

“I don’t think it’s the bed. I think it’s us .” My words make him smirk arrogantly. All I wanna do is wipe it off his stupidly handsome face.

***

The next day, we’re having breakfast in bed when he says, “It’s been two days, and I still love you.”

I roll my eyes as I take my mug of triple espresso latte from the breakfast tray he’s carrying on his lap. I have to keep my stamina up with his somehow. I look over at him, my eyes glaring pointedly. But he smiles at me. Damn it, he’s so pretty .

My scowl melts away when he leans over. His lips are an inch away from mine, when his thumb wipes a drop of latte off my bottom lip. He licks his thumb and says, “You’re delicious.”

“You’re tasting my latte.” I glare at him even more, which apparently makes him smile wider even more. So pretty! Ugh!

“No,” he says, kissing me. “I’m tasting you.”

Then he places the tray on the other side of this enormous California king-sized bed we’re on. His body moves gracefully down mine as he spreads my legs. I guess he’s eating me for breakfast. It doesn’t take me long to spill my latte all over the sheets. So much for having stamina to match his.

***

On the third day, I wake up in his arms, so sore almost everywhere, especially my ass, which I’m sure still has his handprints on it.

When I stir, he wakes up, opening his hooded eyes. They’re so stormy like thunderclouds ready to strike lightning. “It’s been three days,” he says, voice roughened with sleep. “And I still love you.”

“Ass.”

He smiles faintly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into my hair.

“Is that your way of asking for more spanks? We got as far as fifty last night. Should we double that?” With an indignant huff, I let him drape me over his lap, my face buried in a pillow that he sets under my head.

“Make sure to count it all this time, or I’m starting over. ”

And I duly pay for calling him an ass first thing in the morning, spending the rest of the day completely under his control, stuck in our suite. Thank god for room service. Otherwise, how else would we be able to recover between rounds?

***

It’s the fourth day, and I hate how my body’s giving up on me already .

“Come on, don’t give up. Don’t let Dae win,” I say to myself in the bathroom mirror. “You can handle a sexcation. You can handle Dae.”

When I take a deep breath with my eyes closed, I can hear Dae’s footsteps come closer. Opening my eyes, I stare daggers into his reflection. His tall, lean—total sleeper bod—figure’s by the door, arms crossed. “Am I such bad company that you resort to talking to yourself?”

“Oh, I’m afraid clever one-liners belong to me, dearest husband,” I say with all the snark my weak body can muster. My legs feel like jello after yet another all-nighter. My husband’s a relentless savage in and outside of the bedroom. It turns me on so much, I hate it.

He shrugs a broad shoulder, his lips forming a firm line as he stares right back at my reflection. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“So now I’m supposed to feel flattered?” I look at him in a way that says ‘Yeah, right’. But all he does is chuckle, smirking.

“Don’t leave the bed until I tell you I love you,” he demands.

“Maybe wake up sooner,” I say, turning around to face him with a frown. “It’s not my fault you slept in.”

He shakes his head, still smirking as he traps me against the sink counter with him towering over me, his arms on either side. “Don’t test me, little bird.”

Before I can speak, he’s kissing me hungrily, placing me to sit on the counter as he presses our naked bodies together, sliding his cock into my dripping pussy. That pep talk worked .

***

Before dawn on the fifth day, I wake up, drenched in sweat from a nightmare. My hair’s damp from sweat and possibly tears.

Silently, I stare at the ceiling, lost in the dark with no sign of the sun rising anytime soon.

I worry over my parents. So many what if’s swimming in my head, just like how, right now, it feels like I’m drowning in the red sea, tangy with the coppery stench of blood.

When I close my eyes, I wonder if it’s better if I force myself to go back to sleep.

So I keep my eyes closed for a moment, and then I feel warmth envelop me. It’s not startling at all. In fact, I welcome it. I welcome him .

Blinking my tears out of my eyes, I stare at the blurry sight of my husband hovering above me. “Dae…” I whimper.

“Tell me,” he whispers back, kissing my lips before pulling back to look at me while he listens to me pour my heart out.

All he does is listen until I go silent when the sun rises hours later. And when it does, he kisses me softly, saying, “It’s the fifth day, Kaye, and I still love you.”

***

“Kaye.” I groggily hear his voice in my sleep. Am I dreaming? “Kaye, wake up.”

Disgruntled noises escape my snarling lips.

I keep my heavy eyes closed, turning away from his voice because I want to sleep, damn it!

And it’s his fault that I’m worn the hell out.

He had me spread eagle and tied to the bed all night long, using all sorts of toys on me that should’ve not been allowed through airport security.

He’s lucky I accepted his reward of getting dicked down so hard that we broke yet another bed.

I’d be ashamed if I had any dignity left, but he had to call his ‘discreet’ security team to tell the hotel manager to move us to another suite.

Dae had to carry me to our third suite because I was that much of a quivering mess.

His security team was not very discreet when they were escorting us and carrying our luggage. And Dae definitely enjoyed showing me off far too much last night, only letting me cover my naked body with a thin blanket while he carried me. But back to the present…

“Kaye, it’s well into the afternoon. You need to eat something.” God, his voice. My pussy responds to it by getting wet.

But fuck him. He did this to me! “Go away…” I mumble against the pillow.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His deep voice sounds amused.

Then I feel his arms around my waist, embracing me tightly. He’s solid as a rock, all hard muscles and warm firmness. And that dastardly dick of his is always hard and poking me somewhere. I swear, it always is. It’s sorta terrifying but mostly impressive and hot as hell.

He holds me like that for a while. So instead of melting into the pillow, I melt into his arms, hearing him say, “It’s the sixth day, my perfect wife, and I still love you.”

I groan. “Prove it by unplugging the chargers for those toys, you sex-craved demon.”

“I will,” he surprisingly agrees, “if I get to use the toys on you until their batteries die.”

I groan again. “Fuck it, fine.” I crack one eye open to find him smirking as he gets up from the bed to grab one particularly devious toy that made me squirt all over the sheets last night.

Letting out a string of curses, I can’t help but betray myself, smiling a little at him, while he slyly laughs, deep and husky. The sound sends shivers down my spine and makes me spread my legs eagerly for him.

Okay, maybe, it’s partially my fault that I always end up a quivering mess in his arms and under him every day and night. Partially . But who could blame me? It’s my damn honeymoon.

***

The next day, we wake up together, shower together, dress together, and head to the breakfast buffet together, hand in hand. It’s been a calm and quiet morning because last night, I wore him out too. Ha! Take that, pretty boy!

We find a table, where he sets down our tray of full plates and even fuller mugs of coffee. Mine spills, but I catch the drops with my tongue. He raises a brow at me when I look up at him. My smile surely matches the mischief sparking in my eyes.

Enjoying breakfast without a word passing between us, he finally speaks as he watches me devour my tower of pancakes. “It’s our seventh day together, darling.”

“Let me gueth,” I say around a mouthful. “You thill lovth me?”

“Yes, I still love you.” He laughs, sipping his coffee.

I stuff my mouth with more pancakes, this time with sweet strawberries, making my heart sing with happiness I’ve never felt before.

I feel so free, it’s ridiculous. Plus, I have eye candy to up the sweetness.

I look across the table at my husband, and he looks straight back at me with his gorgeous gray eyes.

“Another week with you, and I’m sure you’ll forget that awful word. ”

“Whath wordth?”

He smiles, satisfied that apparently I don’t even recall whatever he’s talking about. “Annulment,” he answers with an air of arrogance about him. And honestly, there’s nothing I can do about it. I gotta hand it to him. He made me completely forget.

He’s made me forget a lot of useless worries. Who am I to whine about having an incredibly hot man for a husband, even if our families forced us into this marriage? What am I gonna do—complain about being spoiled like a mafia princess is supposed to be? I’ll fucking take it.

Smiling, I say, “Consider that word erased from my vocabulary.”

He smiles back. “Good girl.”

I see a glimpse of him licking his lips a little bit as he watches me lick the rim of my latte. Even from that brief glance, I can see the promise of trouble in his eyes. And I love it.

Stealing more glances at him, I feel my body buzzing from the thrill of having him by my side for another week. He interrupts my thoughts by saying, “You keep looking at me like that, I’ll bend you over this table in a minute.”

I stifle my ecstatic giggle. If I’m being honest with myself, I want him by my side for a lifetime.