Evanescent Ink (Copperline #4) (33 page)

Finally, everyone was there and in place. The guys stood with me at the end of the parlor as Max and Eoghan, ring bearers once again, came forward. Each kid was dressed like a newsboy with their knee-length trousers and what Raven called a driver cap. To add to the steampunk vibe, Raven had decked them out with sci-fi appearing leather holsters strapped to their little belts, complete with little brushed aluminum blasters.

Then came the girls. Each one of my friends groaned as his woman came down the aisle. Each girl was dressed in a dark, crisp skirt that hung in full ruffles to the floor in the back, but hit them about mid-thigh in the front to showcase knee-length lace-up boots. Small cap sleeves draped just off their shoulders, and each wore a laced corset in the same colors as my friends’ waistcoats.

First came Lacey in a dark cranberry red to match Justin, followed by Ilsa in a rich magenta, Felicity in a dark emerald, and finally Sophie in a deep teal blue. Sophie’s corset was modified slightly to allow for her rounded little tummy since she was approaching the third trimester of her pregnancy. The girls’ bouquets were a mixture of sculpted metal flowers like the boutonnieres with some jewel-tone roses tucked in as well.

Finally, Joe stepped into the doorway and, with a slight bow, motioned for Raven to step forward as well.

Spurning the typical white, she’d gone with her favorite color. Purple was rare in nature, she had explained, but the color meant peace and magic and mystery. Since Raven was all those things personified, it seemed perfect for her.

She simply glowed in deep plum-colored satin. A cut similar to the bridesmaids, but her skirt, still high in the front and low in the back, was fuller with a heavy cascade of black and purple ruffles that trailed on the floor behind her. Where the other girls had black skirts with richly colored corsets, she wore a deep purple skirt with a black corset.

As she walked towards me, I suddenly felt faint. Raven was mine. All mine. Only mine. My heart began to beat faster and stronger with every step she took until she was standing right there before me with pure love shining in her eyes.

Joe handed her over to me, maybe a bit regretfully, but with a glance that told me he thought I was the one person that would appreciate all that Raven embodied.

“Thank you,” I couldn’t help but say when his eyes met mine.

“Just take care of her,” he softly replied.

“I will.”

He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead, through the netting that spilled down from the headpiece of brushed metal flowers and obscured her eyes.

“And you, little Raven… take care of him, too,” Joe murmured to her. “You’ve got a good man here.”

Raven turned her violet gaze up to mine. “I know,” she smiled. “I will.”

Our wedding was short and sweet. Perfect in every way.

As short as the reception was long. Raven had gotten some of the musicians from the steampunk ball to come play. It was almost perfect, although it stretched out long into the night. All great craic, as Denny said many times, his thick Irish accent becoming thicker with every flaming absinthe drink, but I wanted nothing more than to disappear up into the master with Raven.

We cut the cake. Thick layers of chocolate decadence decorated with shades of frosting from lavender to purple. Everyone remarked on the odd refreshments, like the absinthe drinks and the Parma Violets. Felicity had brought a shit-ton of the small, purple candies back from a trip to Ireland to visit Denny’s family. She thought Raven might like them, saying they tasted like purple. I gave them a shot, but didn’t agree.

In my mind, Raven tasted like purple.

But, much like Felicity had anticipated, Raven had loved them, so much that she ordered a shit-ton more to serve in place of dinner mints at the wedding.

We danced our first time as man and wife, and Joe, taking his uncle-of-the-bride role seriously, cut in.

I shot her garter like a rubber band and laughed as it hit Justin square in the face. The guy was horrified, jumping back from it as though it was poisonous. Raven chose not to throw her bouquet, deciding to keep it instead. Besides, the thing was half metal and could be dangerous to toss around.

It was now nearing one in the morning and I was growing really fucking antsy to be alone with my wife.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Felicity smiling up at me.

“She’s ready,” she smiled as she tucked herself up against Denny’s slightly intoxicated form.

“She went up without me?” I asked.

“She wanted everything to be perfect. Go ahead. We'll take care of the crowd.”

I looked around the room. In spite of the late hour, the party was still in full swing, much like it had been during the ball, and fuck if I wanted to wait any longer.

So I clapped Denny on the shoulder with a grin and hurried up the stairs without telling another soul.

As I opened the door to the master suite, soft candlelight glowed over Raven, standing there before me in a short violet satin nightgown with a long black lace duster.

“Hi, Mr. Massey,” she whispered, catching her lower lip in her teeth.

“Hi…” I breathed out, “Mrs. Massey.”

She took the few steps closer to me, the warm candlelight intensifying the contrast of pale skin and dark shadows. Her perfume infiltrated the air around me as she gently pushed the coat from my shoulders and began to undress me.

Her breath became just the slightest bit shaky while she loosened the buttons of my shirt, erotic as every exhale brushed against my newly exposed skin. When she tugged at the buttons of my fly, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Clasping her face in my hands, I urged her lips up to mine and kissed her deeply.

She felt so fine in my arms, soft and elegant in her satin and lace, small and curvaceous, pressed against my bare chest. Every kiss drew her closer, more firmly against me. She flicked my nipple piercings, sending a jolt of intense need through my system, and I picked her up and carried her to the bed. Settling on top of her and cradled between her pale thighs, I gathered her close and devoured her kiss as she melted into me.

The party raged on downstairs. The gritty sound of violins enmeshed with guitars. Laughter and the occasional shout.

Somehow it fed the passion between us. It brought back the fervent secrecy of the last time we’d been in this room. Raven scraped her nails down my abs to my waistband, releasing my cock into her small, warm grip. I kicked off my pants and boxers, positioning myself against her, and slowly pushed inside.

And she arched so beautifully against me as I filled her, something she did often, as though the sheer sensation of it overwhelmed her senses.

“You’re mine,” I groaned against her neck. “You’re really mine. My wife.”

Her legs slid up to wrap around me, holding me tightly inside her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

We lay on the bed, naked in the satin sheets. Wrapped in each other’s arms. Silken luxury all around me, but none as fine as her smooth, bare skin under my fingertips.

The reception below us hadn’t mellowed, and the muffled sounds filtered up, strangely adding to the sense of peace I felt.

“I gotta say,” I softly said, “having you here the first time was hot as hell, but this—holding you in this room and knowing the rest of the world can just fuck off for now—this is heavenly.”

She pressed her lips against the ink on my chest and laid her cheek back against it.

In a quiet, dreamy voice she whispered my favorite words. Words that had come to mean everything to me, no matter how many times a day she looked into my eyes and said them.

“I love you, Drew.”

And I held my wife—my beautiful, unique Raven—just a little bit tighter as we drifted off to sleep.

The End

Look for Justin’s book

Scheduled for release in the Spring of 2016

● 
Afraid ~ The Neighborhood

● 
Careless ~ Royal Blood

● 
Best Of You ~ Foo Fighters