She slid my aviators away because, as she’s always told me, she likes seeing my eyes — or rather, seeing herself in my eyes.
“So I was your first kiss,” she murmured.
“You were.”
She lifted her chin. “And last.”
“And last.” Then I devoured her until Cynthia joined us and cockblocked me.
She does that occasionally, cockblocks me just to see my reaction, and I do it to her every chance I get whenever she wants alone time with Sebastian.
What? I do hold grudges sometimes.
That’s also why Aiden is my best man today. It’s not because of his skills — which are terrible, by the way — but because I want him to see that Silver is mine. He might have been her fake fiancé at one time, and I can’t erase that; however, I can make him watch me get married to her.
Not that he cares since he has Elsa, but this is a point I need to cement. During those years I thought she was his, I suffered in silence, and I don’t want to ever have those feelings again. The feelings of being pushed into a corner until I couldn’t sleep at night.
My thoughts come to a halt when Silver appears down the aisle, her gloved hand tucked into Sebastian’s arm.
I admire how her wedding dress moulds to her curves as the sand shifts underneath her feet, leaving trails in their wake. My gaze ascends from the bottom to the top until I’m captured by bright eyes. She smiles at me in that shy yet determined way, like she used to do when we were young.
Our wedding is set on a small beach in the same French town where I first kissed her, held her hand, and walked with my palm on her back in front of people.
The first time where we were free, even though we’d suffered the loss of our unborn baby. The first time Silver kissed me without holding back. It was also when we got our tattoos together.
Now, we’re commemorating those moments to memory once again. Only, now, it’s in front of the world. We’ve been public for some time, but the marriage seals the deal once and for all.
It’s been ten years. Ten fucking years since she became mine, and twenty years since I saw her at that park and decided she’d be my chaos.
But that’s the thing about Silver, not only is she my chaos, but she’s also my peace. The home I go back to every day.
We had to keep our relationship a secret for a long time, and while I enjoyed stealing her from the middle of people, tying her up or fucking her in dark corners, I need the world to know the truth I’ve known since I was bloody eight years old.
Silver belongs to me as much as I belong to her.
The fact that I can finally shout it to the world fills me with a strange feeling I’ve never experienced before.
Giddiness? Nervousness?
Or maybe it’s...happiness.
Before Silver, I didn’t know what that word meant. After her, it simply means...my Butterfly. My chaos. My world.
She understands when I need a challenge and she doesn’t shy away from meeting me head-on. That’s what I love the most about Silver. The fact that she never backs away and never gives up. Actually, she needs the challenge as much as I do, and that’s why she’s the perfect woman for me.
And because she is, I intend to live the rest of our lives proving that fact.
Sebastian kisses his daughter on the cheek before he gives her to me. Her smile is still shy, but those blue eyes? Fuck, how they look at me.
I’m the one who’s obsessed with seeing myself in her eyes, not the other way around. I’m the one who can’t get enough of how they look at me.
“Notice something?” she whispers.
“What?”
“Nothing?” Her lips pull into an adorable pout.
“You should know by now that I notice everything about you.” I motion at her dress’s ribbon with the butterfly brooch on it. “Fucking butterflies.”
“If you call them cockroaches with wings, I’ll kill you.”
I chuckle, tugging her to me because the distance between us is blasphemy. “They’re bright and beautiful and make people happy, just like you, my Butterfly.”
Her cheeks turn a deep shade of red. “Then you’re more important than them, because you make me happy, Cole. You make me so happy.”
“And I will continue to.”
“Are we really getting married?” she whispers. “I still think it’s a dream.”
“Let’s tie the knot here and I’ll show you later whether or not it’s a dream, Mrs Nash.”
Her lips part and the urge to devour her hits me, so I do just that. I tie our own knot before anyone else can do it.
I’m hers.
She’s mine.
III
The Honeymoon
11
Astrid
“I can’t keep up.” I laugh as Levi takes my hand while we run through the rain.
Even though we always do this and I’ve gotten kind of used to standing under the rain when I’m in his company, I really can’t keep up with his long athletic legs.
He’s a football player, after all, and I still have no tolerance for physical activity, no matter how much Levi tries to implement that in me.
He stops, his fingers still intertwined with mine, and faces me, panting.
We’re in Vegas.
No kidding.
When I told Levi the story about how my parents got married here and that I would love to visit it one day, he surprised me with a honeymoon in Vegas.
Sin City has never looked more sinful than when Levi is staring down at me with those deep blue eyes. His wet blond strands fall haphazardly across his forehead, shadowing his angular features and sharp jaw.
We’ve been here for a few days, and each one feels like a piece cut from paradise. I’m still not used to the fact that this man, who’s the embodiment of a strong Viking, caring and protective, is actually my husband.
The dreamy days we’ve spent here, walking around and fucking in every corner, haven’t helped, because since the wedding, I haven’t had a chance to stop and soak in the fact that I belong to him as much as he belongs to me. That I’m now Astrid Elizabeth Clifford King. And my full name, although long as hell, is the best form it could ever be.
I haven’t gotten the chance to watch him fall asleep and count his eyelashes or spy on him so I can sketch him later on.
Every day, he exhausts me to the point that I sleep in his arms like a kitten and only get up so he can whisk me off to a different adventure. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a casino, a restaurant, or the underground clubs where he can have me all for himself in dimly lit corners.
“Come on, Princess.” He grins down at me, cradling my cheeks in his big hands, and tips my face up until my entire surroundings are filled with his presence. “Is that all you got?”
Despite our height difference, I get closer and run my fingers through his hair, submitting the golden strands to order. I’ve always loved the colour of his hair, and it’s not just because he looks like a Viking. It’s the only colour that would suit him. Although the other King men, Jonathan and Aiden, have dark hair, Levi has a light shade, and that alone shows how special he is. He’s cut from an extraordinary cloth to be solely mine.