Page 71

Claire

T he wedding was everything I’d hoped for and more.

After the ceremony, we moved away all the chairs to create a makeshift dance floor. Jenna and Liam played songs all evening long, and to my surprise, John’s dancing had actually improved—something that hadn’t happened since I’d met him.

“I practiced,” he admitted sheepishly when I asked. “With Kimmy. Just a little bit.”

I laughed. “She probably loved that.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m never hearing the end of that one,” he replied with a grin.

Sarah had been kind enough to cook a generous buffet for everyone, and John made sure that the drink was well-stocked.

I danced with most everyone, including Danny, who pretended to step on my feet as Allie watched and laughed.

Sarah gave me an enormous hug before taking the baby home to bed, and it seemed like everyone stopped to tell me how pretty I looked, which made me flush.

Kimmy and Danny ribbed John relentlessly, and he responded with his usual wry humour, which made for a lot of laughter throughout the evening.

It felt like being home—at long last.

A part of me had worried about this day.

Despite my excitement, I’d still felt a sense of loss leading up to it.

My father wouldn’t walk me down the aisle.

My mother wouldn’t cry in the front row, and my sister wouldn’t watch my first dance.

Asha wouldn’t be there to tease me about my nerves.

As deeply as I felt their betrayal, those had been the important people in my life, and they were all—in one way or another—lost to me forever.

But seeing John, and Kimmy, and the people of the Valley…

I knew that whatever I’d lost, I’d also gained so much.

I’d married a good man that I loved more than anything.

I’d become part of a community I’d grown to adore over these past months.

Young Claire, trapped inside that compound, mourning her father’s death and enduring her mother’s wrath, could never have imagined such a moment.

I hoped she’d be proud.

We ate, drank, and danced all night long, until fireflies glowed in the darkness, and the party had begun to wind down.

“I love you,” I said softly to John as he held me, gently turning us to a slow song. Only a couple others remained on the dance floor. “Thank you for saving me off that rooftop last year.”

He chuckled and tightened his hold around my waist.

“Love you too, Claire Madigan,” he murmured, and my heart tugged at my new name. “And for what it’s worth, rescuing a pretty girl off a factory roof turned out to be the most important thing I ever did.”

I kissed him thoroughly, a symphony of crickets serenading us.

After most people had left, John led me back to the farmhouse. The light had been left on in the foyer, and he opened the front door, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

I stayed where I was .

“Technically,” I said with a smile, “the groom is supposed to carry the bride over the threshold.”

John grinned. “That can be arranged.”

He scooped me up into his arms, then kissed me before heading inside and up the stairs.

“Don't drop me, Wastelander,” I teased.

He chuckled. “Never.”

He carried me down the hall to our room, kicking the door shut behind him before setting me on our bed. I caught his chin in my hand and pulled him down to kiss me. He sighed and sunk into it, cradling my head.

“How was today?” I asked when we broke apart.

John smiled sweetly at me. “Just the happiest day I can remember.”

One look at him said it was the truth, and my heart melted.

“Me too,” I whispered, feeling almost shy. “It felt like…I’m part of things now. Part of the Valley, of the family. Part of you.”

“Ah, Claire,” John sighed, and he sat on the bed so he could pull me into his arms. “You are. Always have been.”

I nodded, a lump of emotion forming in my throat, and he kissed my forehead.

“You’re the most gorgeous bride there ever was,” he said, sounding a little wistful. “Everyone thought so.”

I giggled. “How could you know?”

“Because I know,” he answered, his voice gruffer, betraying an undercurrent of desire that heated my blood. “Listen to your husband.”

“Or what?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Or we’ll have another talk like we had in that shed at the strip mall,” John said with a wolfish grin.

“I don’t seem to remember that one,” I said, innocently cocking my head to one side.

“Let me refresh your memory then, wife,” John growled, and I squealed as he grabbed me and hefted me up over his shoulder.

He stood, gave my backside a light swat, and laughed when I squeaked again.

“I don’t think this is what you’re supposed to do on your wedding night,” I said disapprovingly from my upside-down position as he walked us into the ensuite bathroom .

“No?” he replied, chuckling as he turned on the light. “In that case, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

John lowered me to the floor, and I gave him my best scowl.

“Yes, I think that’d be best,” I said in an imperious tone.

I faced the vanity mirror and reached for the straps of my dress, lifting them over my shoulders. I reached back to unbutton it, and managed the first one, but the others were more difficult.

“Let me do that,” John murmured, his voice suddenly low and husky.

I closed my eyes as he breathed into my ear and traced down my neck with his open mouth, enjoying the goosebumps it raised on my arms and the feel of his fingers carefully unfastening the remaining buttons.

The dress fell to the floor, and I sighed as John slid a finger inside the waistband of my panties, stroking my skin.

“There are so many things I want right now,” he said as he stared at us in the mirror, kissing the shell of my ear and making me shiver.

“Like what?” I whispered, the air thick with tension.

He slowly ran his free hand down the length of my back, caressing my sensitive skin, raising more goosebumps.

“To get on my knees and worship you,” he breathed in my ear, and a pulsing heat began between my thighs.

“To give you more pleasure than you can bear. And at the same time, I want to own you. I want to use you in the filthiest ways I can think of and leave you dripping my come so you’ll never forget who you belong to…

and that no one will ever need you, want you, love you, like I do. ”

My breath caught as he palmed my breasts hungrily.

I wanted everything he did, wanted to possess and be possessed by him, to feel cherished and dirty in equal measure.

With a shiver, I dropped my panties, making him sigh, then moved out of his grasp toward the shower.

I turned on the showerhead and stepped under it, arching my back to allow the water to flow over my breasts and down my front in a way that was shamelessly erotic.

“Fuck,” John muttered, watching me, and I grinned.

I wet my hair and washed up, massaging my hands in slow, circular motions over my body. I lingered at my breasts, sighing with pleasure as I gently caressed my nipples. The cleft between my thighs grew slick at my own attention and ached with need .

John clearly had enough because he stripped at a speed that made me giggle. He stepped into the shower behind me and pulled me back against him, letting me feel his rigid hardness against the small of my back as he sucked on the sensitive spot in the crook of my neck.

“Are you trying to tempt me into taking you right now, against this wall?” he said in my ear. “Because it’s working.”

I smiled, pleased, and surprised again at the effect I had on him. This strong, brave, surprisingly gentle man adored me, would lay down his life for me. He was the best of us—good and kind and hard-working—and through some tangled twist of fate, he was mine.

I turned to face John and kissed him, throwing my arms around his neck and pushing my tongue into his mouth. He exhaled sharply and pressed me into him, our wet, naked skin sliding together.

“I’m so lucky,” I whispered against his neck, massaging his taut body. “You’re better than anything I ever dared to dream.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” he replied, his gaze tender.

I made a show of soaping him up under the water and he didn’t object, but he groaned a little as I caressed him, obviously pent-up. His skin, browned by the sun, glistened under my attention, and my arousal only increased as I watched sparkling waterdrops drip over his lean, muscular form.

“You’re beautiful,” I sighed, and he grinned.

“Not half so pretty as my blushing bride,” he teased, and predictably, heat rose to my face. I wanted him, and my arousal only increased as I watched him rinse under the showerhead.

I knelt on the tiled floor, and before John had time to react, I wrapped my hand around his shaft. He gasped softly, and I stroked him for a moment before taking him into my mouth. He made a small, strangled sound as I worked him with my tongue and began to suck.

“Your mouth is goddamn perfect,” John groaned. “Christ, Claire.”

The tiled floor was hard against my knees, and my jaw ached a little after a few minutes, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered more to me at that moment than pleasing him. I took him deeper, sucking harder, and he cursed, fisting his hands into my wet hair.

“My filthy girl,” he murmured, and the way he said it made it sound like the sweetest endearment. “This making you wet? Tasting my cock on your knees like this? ”

I moaned around him and met his eye before giving a short nod. The ache between my thighs was almost unbearable now.

“Good,” he grunted, panting now. “I want to paint your pretty tits with my come. Make me come, beautiful.”

I coaxed him closer and closer to the edge.

His grip on my hair tightened, his groans growing deeper and longer, his hips undulating into my mouth.

I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft and pumped in time with each suck, and I knew he was done for, because he moved to pull out of my mouth with another choked noise.