Page 89 of Vance

I look down at our joined hands, then up at his face as I fight back tears. “You have given me Romy—” I pause, my voice breaking slightly. “A name I pushed for to honor your father, because, if not for Roman, you wouldn’t have given me a life I never dreamed possible. We wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t have this.”

Vance’s eyes soften, understanding in his expression.

“I vow to keep loving you,” I continue. “The hard parts and the soft parts. I have loved you through the worst of us, and I will love you through the best of us.”

The officiant smiles. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Again.” She laughs. “You may kiss your bride.”

Vance doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me like he’s claiming territory. It’s not gentle. Though it rarely is. When we part, Romy has escaped Kiki’s grasp and is toddling up the aisle toward us, her basket forgotten and petals crushed in her fist.

“Mommy!” she announces, holding her hands up. Vance scoops her up, settling her on his hip and wrapping his other arm around me. “Cake now?”

The reception is simple and perfect—lunch served on long tables on the deck, champagne, and a cake that Romy wears more than she eats. I dance with Xander, who teases me about finally making an honest man of his brother, and then Beckett, who is suspiciously quiet about his own love life. But mostly, I make my way around the floor with Vance, held tight in his embrace with his hand spread across my back.

As the afternoon fades into evening, and the sun begins to dip toward the lake, Vance’s hand tightens on my waist. He leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “Come with me,” he murmurs, and there’s a tone to his voice that makes my stomach flutter. A glance to Cora, with Romy on her lap, who promptly waves us off with a knowing smile as Vance leads me away.

He guides me to the house, up the stairs, and to the master bedroom. The room has been transformed—rose petals scattered across the white duvet, candles flickering, the curtains open to let in the last of the golden light.

“Mrs. Ashford,” he says, turning to me.

“Mr. Ashford.”

Vance crosses the space between us, and when his hands find my waist, he yanks me against him. I gasp, both at the abruptness and his hard desire pressing against my stomach. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admits, his thumbs tracing the line of my hips. “About getting you alone and peeling this dress off you.”

I reach up, my fingers finding the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. “Then what are you waiting for, Da⁠—?”

His lips are on mine before I can finish, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. The kiss deepens instantly, and I moan into him as his hands roam over the silk of my dress. “So many fucking buttons,” he groans as his fingers work down my spine. Growing impatient, he fists the fabric and tears the remaining buttons apart. He pushes the tattered dress from my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet, leaving me in white lace lingerie and a pair of heels.

He lowers his head, his mouth finding my breast through the delicate lace. The heat of his tongue searing through the thin barrier makes my knees buckle, and a sharp gasp wafts over my lips when he sucks my nipple into his mouth. The friction of wet lace against my sensitive flesh is exquisite torture.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He kisses up the valley between my breasts, his beard rasping against my sternum, my collarbone, and the arch of my throat. I tilt my head back, offering him everything. His hand slips beneath the lace cup of my bra. His finger hooks under the sheer fabric, guiding it beneath the swell of my breast until I’m bared to him completely.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my neck.

He palms both breasts, his thumbs finding the hardened peaks, rolling them between his fingers with a pressure that has my hips bucking, a moan spilling from my lips before I can catch it. “Vance,” I breathe, the word dissolving into nothing. “Please.”

He doesn’t make me ask twice. He drops to his knees before me, gripping my thighs and pulling one of my legs over his broad shoulder, opening me completely to him. His fingers slide into the edge of my panties, pulling the lace aside with a roughness that makes me tremble.

The first stroke of his tongue is devastating. My hands fly to his shoulders, digging into his muscle for purchase as he licks into me with a hunger that steals my breath away. He’s ravenous, his tongue circling my clit before fucking into me with a rhythm that has my head falling back against the wall.

“Oh god—” I choke, my legs shaking violently as he pleasures me.

He cups my ass with a firm grip, holding me upright as he pulls me closer, burying his face deeper between my thighs. He groans his satisfaction against me and my hips rolling against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he’s wringing from my body with every stroke of his tongue.

The orgasm crashes over me without warning, and I cry out his name, my fingers white-knuckled in his hair as he grinds my pussy over his face until I’m pleading for mercy.

He stands in one fluid motion, his mouth glistening and eyes dark. Before I can find my footing, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me across the room. The bed dips as he lays me on the cool sheets, my hair fanning out around me. I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he steps back, his gaze raking over my nearly naked body with a hunger that makes my skin flush.

He yanks his tie over his head before tearing at the buttons of his shirt, the fabric parting to reveal the hard planes of his chest and the defined ridges of his abdomen. He unbuckles his belt with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving mine, letting me watch as he sheds the last of his barriers until he stands before me completely bare.

With his heavy length jutting toward me, he crawls over me, caging me beneath him. He settles between my thighs, his cock pressing against my entrance through the lace. He looks down at me with such possession that I feel owned completely. “Tell me,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper back. “I’ve always been yours, Daddy.”

With my underwear pulled to the side again, he inches into me until he’s buried to the hilt. “I’m going to put another baby in you, sweetheart. I’m fucking dying to watch you grow nice and round for me again.”

“Daddy...” I arch up to kiss him before whispering against his ear, “You already have.”