Catching Caitlin (18 page)

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Authors: Amy Isan

Tags: #coming of age romance, #new adult romance, #billionaire romance, #bdsm romance, #hot new adult, #debut new adult, #debut coming of age, #angsty romance, #alcoholism romance, #recovery romance, #recovering alcoholic romance, #coming of age

BOOK: Catching Caitlin
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“I thought you didn’t
believe in marriage?” I asked Aaron.

He shook his head. “Just
because I don’t believe in it doesn’t mean you don’t look absolutely amazing
right now,” he answered. I laughed, which made Vicky cry a little harder.

“We’re already running
late you two, just try and keep it together.” My mom said, of course, through
her own watery eyes.

I was quivering with
excitement. I was really getting married.

***

T
he pastor started the
ceremony, and the music started. The venue really was well equipped, providing
a vine covered arch and seating for plenty of people. The grass was thick and
green, and the orchard stretched over the gentle hills. It was surprising, I
had no idea there were orchards in Maine. Vicky and Aaron kissed me on the
cheek and wished me luck, then disappeared out of sight as they walked down the
aisle, escorted by some of Hugh’s other friends he had invited along.

My dad locked arms with
me, and smiled. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and he looked like he was going
to cry too. Just seeing him like that almost sent me over into tears as well.

“Dad, don’t cry...”

“I’m not,” he insisted.
“I’m just so happy for you. And proud. Proud of my daughter.” He kissed me on
the forehead and squeezed me. The wedding march started, and we came out of our
hiding place. The dress didn’t have a train, so I didn’t have to worry about
anyone carrying it for me.

I walked deliberately
with my dad next to me, our feet matching our pace. I felt everyone’s eyes on
me, and my face burned with self-consciousness.

Hugh was standing at the
altar, looking perfectly groomed and somehow rugged in his tuxedo. Imagine
that, a rugged man in a tuxedo. I broke into a wide smile when I saw him, his
eyes a bit misty. We reached the end of the aisle, and the music stopped as I
took my place in front of him.

My hands were shaking, so
I squeezed my bouquet even harder to try and stave it off. My legs felt weak,
and I felt light headed. Hugh and I watched each other, the only thing
intruding on our personal rapture were the words of the pastor, leading us into
our life together.

I’m ashamed to say I
don’t remember many of the words, I was so locked in my mixed bliss and nerves.
I glanced at him, and then heard Hugh say the words, “I do.”

I was asked if I would
take Hugh as my husband, to care for and hold, until death parted us. I nodded
excitedly, causing a gentle laughter to stir the audience.

“I do,” I said, ruffled
by my impromptu joke. I smiled at Hugh, watching his eyes. He had his jaw set,
and I could tell he was choking back his tears.

He took my hand and put
the wedding band on it, locking it in place with my engagement ring. They
snapped together with a click, which was surprising. I put his wedding band on
his hand, a golden hue shined in it. As I gave him back his hand, I slipped the
house key into it. He glanced at it and almost burst out laughing, raising his
eyebrows as if it say, ‘Is this what I think it is?’

I nodded quickly, trying
not to crack.

I gulped, and waited for
that final moment as it hung in the air.

“I’m happy to announce to
those seated here today, that these two now share a bond deeper than some can
hope to achieve. Their lives are intertwined now, forever and ever, even after
death parts them. I now proudly pronounce Mr. And Mrs. Evans, husband and wife.
You may kiss the bride, Mr. Evans.”

Hugh’s hand cupped my
face, and he leaned down to kiss me. Our lips locked in that moment of bliss,
and it felt like eternity existed for those few moments. I clasped my hands
around his neck and pulled him in, holding us there as long as possible. The
audience cheered, and I heard my mom call my name. While I know it was loud
now, it sounded like barely audible murmurs at the time. This was for Hugh and
I, husband and wife.

***

T
he reception was beyond
beyond words, with the sun glowing as it set over the orchard with swarthy
music playing. I met Hugh’s extended family, his sister and her husband and
kids, as well as some of Hugh’s uncles and aunts. While we had a small
ceremony, the reception had a lot more guests. But that just made the party
more exciting.

Hugh and I cut the cake
and traded pieces, and got silly pictures taken of us. I still like pulling
them out and looking at them.

When we had a quiet
moment during dinner, Hugh asked me about the key.

“Is this the key to our
house?”

I took another bite of
cake, “It is.” I wiped a crumb off my face and laughed, covering my mouth. “The
realtor showed up just as we were heading out the door. Can you believe the
timing?”

He laughed with me,
clearly as excited as I was.

I lowered my gaze and
looked at him, “Can we stay there tonight?”

“For our first night
together?” He seemed unsure.

His doubt raised mine, “I
mean, we don’t have to. I just thought it’d be nice. I guess we don’t have a
bed or anything ready.”

“I’m just saying,” he
lowered his voice, and leaned in close to me. His breath caught my ear, sending
a shiver up my neck. He rested his hand on my shoulder. “We can’t stay there
without some blankets, pillows, and some firewood to keep us warm.”

He pulled away and I saw
that mischievous look in his eyes. I pushed him with a playful shove. “That’s
so perfect I could just marry you again.”

He held his hands out, “I
try my best.”

As the reception started
to wind down, Hugh and I stole off in his car to make it to the beach house. We
stopped by the store for goods. At my insistence, I had him pick up food for
breakfast. He kissed me, and told me he was the luckiest man alive.

Chapter 15

H
ugh locked the door
behind me when he came in. While we could hear the chirping of the crickets
outside, there was hardly any sound at all once we were stowed away.

The gentle roar sound of
the surf beating against the cliffs rumbled the house a little, giving an immediate
sense of life to it.

We stashed our groceries
in the fridge, and Hugh moved into the living room with his stack of wood.

While he got a gentle
fire going, I grabbed the blankets and bundled them on the ground in front of
the hearth so we could lay there.

“If you stoke that fire
enough, maybe we won’t even have to wear any clothes,” I said.

His eyes were in deep
concentration as he studied what he needed to do to get a fire going. He broke
away to answer me, “I wasn’t planning on wearing clothes anyway.”

I gave him a sly look,
and sat down next to him, watching him work. He was still wearing his tuxedo. I
was glad it was his so I didn’t have to feel bad if I ripped it off him. I
loved watching him work, his broad shoulders pulling his shirt taut at his back
and bicep.

I pawed at him, trying to
be a bit annoying.

Soon the fire crackled to
life, the warm glow and heat helping dry out the house. The salt air left it
feeling a bit moist, which was an odd sensation since I was so used to living
inland. I hardly came near the sea, except for my brief stay with Hugh in his
summer home.

When he was satisfied
with the fire, he turned to me, looking pleased with himself.

“Looks great...” I
breathed, moving in closer to him. He slipped his arm around me and held me close,
which only made me more aroused. I shivered despite the warmth, and he squeezed
me tighter.

“Hugh...” I whispered
into his chest, clutching his shirt. “I’m so happy we’re here.”

He kissed my forehead,
and stared into my eyes, transfixing me.

I gave him my heart there
in front of the fireplace, pushing me over onto my back on the sheets. My feet
were already blazing with heat from the fire, and I needed to be stripped down.
His hands went to the enclosure at my side, keeping the dress up from my breast
down to my hips.

He took his time,
agonizingly undoing the button and slowly pulling the teeth of the zipper
apart.

I felt my face warm, and
my ears burn. My skin and bra were exposed to the chilled and warm air. He
kissed my exposed skin, making me shiver further with anticipation.

“Cay,” he growled into my
chest, his lips traveling across my skin with a skittering presence. I ran my
fingers through his long hair, desperately wanting to tug at it, to force him
upon me.

He slipped the top half
of the gown down to my waist. I let it lie there as he moved further down my
body. I tensed up at every pause, unsure of what he was going to do next.

My breathing grew shallow
and quick.

“Easy... easy,” he
whispered. The smell of the fire filled the room, that tender, warm smell. I
closed my eyes and let him explore me, reveling in the excitement of every
touch of his body against mine.

He stopped for a moment,
and I heard his buttons come loose, the sound of clothing against skin. I
peeked and saw his chest bare and rippled, his eyes set in an aggressive gaze.

“No peeking,” he scolded
me gently.

I shut my eyes again and
let him continue. He lifted my waist up and slackened my gown, pulling it off
my body and throwing it aside. Nothing but my underwear and bra now, nothing
stopping him from taking me.

I quivered as he ran his
hands across my skin, a bit more eager now. His breathing wasn’t controlled any
more, but starting to gain this animalistic pace. His hand rested on my chest,
trying to calm my own breathing.

“Your heart is racing,”
he said.

“I know. You’re teasing
me.”

He didn’t answer, but
instead he put his lips on my chest. His hand unlatched my bra and let it fall
from my chest. The mixture of cold air from a deeper part of the house and the
smokey heat from the fire was exciting.

He kissed my chest, his
hot breath fighting the chill. Then he took me in his mouth, and started
sucking on my nipple. I couldn’t stop myself then, I squeezed his scalp, trying
to control him, push him further on. I let out a small moan, which I could
barely consider voluntary. He chuckled and let go, making sure my pleasure was
slow, and agonizing.

“God, you’re beautiful.
Mrs. Evans,” he said, “Everything about you. Your willpower, your drive.” I
melted at the sound of his name attached to me.

I finished his sentence,
“My body?”

He murmured in agreement.
My eyes were still shut, so I was surprised to suddenly feel his warm lips on
my stomach.

“Closer,” I moaned. He
pretended not to hear, instead kissing my waist, my hips, my thighs.

He pinched my panties at
the waist and slipped them off me. His mouth kissed between my thighs, leaving
wet marks that the heat evaporated with a steaming touch.

“Hugh,” I groaned.
“Please, you’re teasing me.”

He slipped under my legs,
his shoulders balancing them perfectly. His quick breathing reached my wet
lips, and I knew he was close. I could feel that tension, that anxiety.

He drew closer still, and
left me there, hanging in limbo. I opened my eyes to watch him, and saw he was
already staring right into me. Those blue eyes of his, piercing me. How could I
ever forget that look in his eyes when he was hungry for me? That look that
betrays his very soul?

He didn’t break eye
contact, but lowered his head down to meet me, planting a kiss on my wet lips.
I moaned at the intensity of it, his tongue lashing out and dancing between my
folds, feeling like it was pounding my clit. I couldn’t stop, and I refused to
let him.

I grabbed his head with
both hands, holding on to tufts of his hair, digging him deep into me. His eyes
still watched me, sizing me up, feeling me lash out and shake with every subtle
touch of his lips.

He pushed his hands on my
hips, holding me down. I pushed against him, bucking as my back begged to arch
into him, make his mouth go as deep as possible. I cried out and writhed as he
sucked and kissed; earning every ounce of sweat that dripped out of my body,
every ounce of pleasure that formed a ball in my core. As I was turned sideways
against the fire, half of me was aflame with warmth while the other was
slightly chilled.

He moaned into me, his
voice reverberating through my very being. I trembled at his command, at his
every desire and wish.

He slipped my thighs off
his shoulders and spread my legs open, letting me lay there in my euphoria for
a few moments. I didn’t want to though, I wanted him to finish me.

I whined a little until I
saw his hands move to his pants. He grinned as he undid them, pulling them off
and making himself nearly as exposed and vulnerable as me. Nothing but his
underwear separated us now. I could still see the outline of his cock right
through it.

“Keep going, what are you
doing?” I begged him, more confused than anything. He grinned, knowing how I
felt. That agony of denial, that ecstasy of anticipation and waiting.

His manhood twitched, and
he looked like he was in a bit of pain from it. I locked my ankles behind his
ass, and pulled myself closer to him, bunching the blankets under me in the
process.

He chuckled and pulled
down his boxers, his cock eager and ready. The fire flickered off the
glistening tip of it. He leaned over me, making sure the head grazed my folds.
His hands were planted right above my shoulders, and his eyes were locked in
mine. I reached down and guided him into me, my wet lips eagerly taking him in.

I gasped as his head
glided in, then his shaft, then his body pressed against my pussy. He was all
the way in, and there was no barrier between us. I didn’t care, this was our
honeymoon, the night just for us.

Our bodies soared as one,
and he held himself inside me for a minute or two. He groaned and I writhed,
passion boiling to my surface.

“Take me, Mr. Evans,” I
moaned.

With a deliberate
slowness, he pulled out of me again, his head resting against my clit.

He pushed back, his cock
knowing exactly where to go, dragging its wet head back down my lips and into
me. He thrust into me all the way, making me shout in surprise. I felt a knot
inside me coil like a snake, ready to strike. He pulled out and pushed another
stroke into me, each one a bit quicker than the last.

I lifted my head and
leaned into his ear, and whispered, “Take me, my love.”

A surprising vigor burst
from him, and I finally felt the satisfaction I wanted. He pounded into me, his
skin slapping against mine, his balls swinging against my ass. I moaned and
cried out, curling my arms and legs around him every way I could. I squeezed
him tight, holding him inside me as long as possible, making him fight to fuck
me, fight to make me his. He thrashed against me, his own energy boiling over.
My toes curled, and he grabbed my back and fell backward, pulling me on top of
him.

With him on bottom on in
more control. We clasped our hands together, our rings catching slightly, and
locked our elbows as I grinded against his stomach, feeling his cock slide in
and out of me as my clit grazed his rock-hard abs. I couldn’t believe the
intensity. I lost balance, and fell on top of him, my breasts sticking to his
chest, his breathing incredibly loud and incredibly fast in my ear. I moaned
into him, almost screaming from it all. I had no reason to be quiet, it was
just us in this big house, just husband and wife together.

The fire cackled and
blazed as I rode him to the finish, focusing on my euphoric release. I was
close, and I could tell he was just as close as me. I bared down on him,
slamming his cock in and out of me without any regard for rhythm or timing.

He tensed up under me and
curled his arms around my back, locking his wrists together and squeezing me
down. I felt him twitch inside me, and that guttural cry of his climax pushed
me over the edge, making my vision to grow blurry and my legs to shake with
exhaustion.

I screamed his name as my
body felt like it was rippling with hot warmth, my hands growing clammy and my
pussy feeling like it was clenching him. He pulsed and twitched in me, his own
gasps of air beginning to match mine.

I inhaled sharply, and
relaxed my entire body, letting the afterglow burn out across me. I wiggled my
toes as I waded through the euphoria, and my fingers ached from exertion.

His hair was matted and
sweaty, his eyes glazed over. I kissed his forehead and tasted his salt.

“That was perfect,” I
whispered. I rubbed my legs trying to stop them from cramping. He pulled out of
me, and I moved down so I could curl my head on his sticky chest. The fire
helped dry us out as we regained our composure. We’d be asleep in a matter of
minutes.

That first night with my
husband wouldn’t be one I’d ever forget.

Soon I’d be back in
school, pursuing the degree I was passionate about. And he’d be leading the
country with his courage to leap into the next big thing. Our future couldn’t
be brighter.

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