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SKYE

A few weeks later

Earlier today we married on the grounds of our new home: a freaking castle. I still can’t believe it.

The ceremony took place outside. It was freezing, but exactly how I imagined it. The last of the snowdrops still in bloom, fluffy white shawls, a castle, and fairy lights. Sheer perfection. Then we moved into the grand hall where we ate, sang, danced, and laughed until the wee small hours until there was just me, and him.

My husband.

Foreheads touching, chests panting, our lips ghost one another as Jacob makes love to me slowly.

His eyes are full of emotion, and with every thrust, I feel him, every kiss. He pours his love into my skin. With every taste and lick, he memorizes every part of me as I melt into him like liquid gold.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, making my heart swell with warmth. “I love you.”

With soft hands, my fingertips trace his inked skin, worshipping every inch of him.

He kisses me deep, then deeper again, licking his tongue against mine, making me shudder with his deep affection.

We rock together in perfect timing. Undulating his hips in waves, he breathes hard, moaning loudly as we move into a faster rhythm. My nipples pucker when his inked skin rubs against them, causing a wave of pleasure over my skin.

Our bodies are electric with desire for one another.

“I love you, Jay.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that. Not ever,” he groans against my lips.

He pushes in further, the head of his cock rubbing my sweet spot, and I gasp when he tilts my hips at just the right angle. With every cell of my body tuned into his, we become one.

Holding himself deep and firm, digging his fingers into my hips, his pelvic bone teases my clit. My inner walls begin to clench; the pleasurable sensation burns in my thighs and between my pelvis.

He circles his hips, taking his time between thrusts as we both savor every moment.

Cupping my ass with his expert hands, the ones that know me so well, his cock flirts with my G-spot, once, and then twice and I come when he tells me to because I’d do anything for him.

Eyes locked as if he’s looking deep into my soul, he comes too as we writhe and moan together. He kisses me, groaning as he pours himself inside of me.

It’s this moment that bonds us together, not with a signed piece of paper, but with love and trust and, most importantly, true friendship, because we are partners in every way.

“I love you, Skye Baxter.”

I can’t stop smiling. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” I repeat back his heartfelt words.

The winter sun beats through the windows and I smile as happiness buzzes through my veins.

I’m so happy. Something I never thought I would feel again.

I started writing the books I had an idea for. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Fully illustrated, handwritten, and then digitally enhanced, I’ve written ten children’s books so far.

Centered around a blonde girl called Blue with cute space buns, every book deals with sensitive topics like anxiety, stress, and anger, with simple tools kids can use to help and support them. All the things I have been doing myself that helped me.

Having kept in touch with Austin, the branding client from London, he put me in touch with one of his friends who owns a publishing house.

Two weeks ago, Jacob and I flew down to London for my meeting with AJNP Publishing to discuss a publishing deal. I only told Violet, because I was worried I wouldn’t get it, but I finally got the news two days ago via email. Although I’m leaving Baxter and Bain, and will be sad to leave, I am also really excited about my future.

We’ve yet to tell our parents, but we’re having them all round for Sunday roast today so we’ll tell them then.

Then tomorrow we are off on our honeymoon in the Bahamas for three weeks. Jacob remembered everything from my vision board and I’m so excited about seeing those cute swimming pigs I’ve been desperate to visit. On our return, we begin the renovations, which I’m overseeing.

I pull myself up in bed and rest my back against the headboard.

Naked from the waist up, in only his luminous yellow and pink star-printed boxers, I can’t help but lick my lips when Jacob, my husband, walks into our bedroom. I want to scream, he’s all mine , but I don’t.

He may be a tattooed devil in a suit, but he’s an even sexier tattooed devil when he’s naked.

“You look so tiny in that bed, Mrs. Baxter,” he chuckles.

I look up at the wooden four-poster. It really is enormous. “Like the princess and the pea.”

It’s the biggest four-poster bed I’ve ever seen. Every move we make creaks like crazy, which isn’t the best as we have so much sex and it causes us to laugh when we really get into it. It’s ridiculously squeaky and we need to get a carpenter here to sort it out before we even think about having kids.

Laying a tray down on the bed with two cups of steaming coffee on it, he walks over to the sideboard and pulls open a drawer, lifting a pale blue present out of it with a huge silver bow.

“Is that a wedding present?”

“Yes, from me.”

“I got you something, too.” I lean down and pull his gift from between the sliver of space between the nightstand and the giant bed.

“I don’t need anything. I have you; you’re all that I need,” he says, melting my heart.

He closes the heavy wooden drawer, which doesn’t run as smoothly as it should. Yet another job to add to the list: wax the runners. It’s never-ending owning a castle. Being a wannabe princess is hard work.

Being careful not to spill the coffee, he climbs under the covers with me and we exchange presents.

“You open yours first,” he instructs.

Crossing my legs, I sit up, pulling the covers around my breasts, protecting them from the chilly air. Jacob lit the log fire before he went down to make our morning coffee, but it’s still hissing and spitting away in the corner, gearing itself up to heat the room.

And there’s another thing we need to upgrade: the heating system.

Being careful not to rip the aqua blue paper, I untie the silver bow first, then unfold the paper carefully and gasp when I pull out a copy of my favorite book.

“It’s a special thirtieth anniversary illustrated edition,” he says as I stroke the blue and gold gilded hardback cover of The Princess Bride .

“It’s beautiful.”

“Is it okay?”

“It’s better than okay. It’s wonderful.” I grab his face and kiss him.

My perfect man is so perfect. Hard and fierce-looking on the outside and soft and squishy on the inside.

What more could a girl want?