Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
It was a far cry from my bedroom back at home. With the same white four poster bed I’d had since I was a little girl, and shades of beige and pink all around.
That was the point, though, wasn’t it?
A new life.
New things.
I would get used to the changes eventually.
Unsure what else to do with myself, I found the massive walk-in closet, and tucked all my things along one wall, figuring I would unpack slowly over the next few days.
Uncomfortable in my wedding gown, though, I went for a specific bag I’d packed. Inside, still gently wrapped in the tissue paper, was my new robe and matching nightie that the designer boutique had referred to as a ‘babydoll.’
I took that package as well as a small toiletry bag with me across the primary suite toward the open door of the bathroom.
Back at home, I had my own bathroom. A luxury, for sure. But my father had insisted as we were growing up that being the only girl in a house full of boys, that I deserved my own bathroom space.
But it was a little shoebox room with a pedestal vanity with no storage for my things, and shower niche barely big enough to turn around in.
No bathtub.
And I can’t say how many times I’d fantasized about having my very own deep soaking tub to submerge in.
Apparently, my dreams came true with Renzo’s en suite bathroom. Which, honestly, might have been as big as my bedroom at home.
There were more exposed brick walls and wood tile floors, a double sink vanity, and a massive walk-in glass shower big enough for ten people to stand comfortably.
And, right near the tinted windows, there it was.
The soaking tub of my dreams.
Better, even.
Because I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen one this oversized before
I considered drawing a bath, of sinking in and letting the stress of the last few months wash away.
I didn’t know if I had time, though.
This was my wedding night.
There would be… activities.
And I didn’t know when Renzo would come to bed.
I didn’t want to keep him waiting.
Sliding the bathroom door closed, I removed the headband that had been stabbing me in the skull since I’d put it on, then set it and my veil aside as I stretched to unzip my gown.
Beneath, I had on a strapless bra that I immediately reached to remove, remembering the sales clerk reminding me how it would leave creases in my skin, and I wanted to give it time to level out to create the best ‘presentation.’
I stood there for a moment in my barely-there creamy pink panties, trying to see myself through eyes not as fault-finding as my own.
A futile task, it seemed, as I averted my eyes and set to slathering on lotion to every inch of my skin before, finally, unwrapping my babydoll in the same color as my panties, and sliding the soft, cool silk material over my head.
It cut scandalously low in the front, and the thin material did nothing to hide the peaks of my breasts, thanks to the cool air in Renzo’s apartment. The hem barely came a few inches down past my panties, and I was glad to reach for the matching robe to offer me a bit more modesty.
Modesty, I scoffed to myself.
I was about to get naked in front of a man for the first time. And I was worried about a little too much thigh showing.
The thought had a strange wobble moving through my belly, a mix of anticipation and nerves.
Because, while I would never tell a soul this, I’d been fantasizing about this night for a long time. When Renzo would peel my clothes off of me, would run his fingers over my skin, would kiss and tease, and make me his own.
That said, there was no shaking the anxiety of the first time, so I tried to keep my mind on other things. Like cleaning up the mess I made. Like brushing my hair and teeth. Like carefully unmaking the bed in such a way that it would be easy to slip into it.
I was just finishing that task when, suddenly, noise from below started to drift in from under the door.
Confused by the cacophony of voices, of laughter, and what seemed like music, I made my way to the door, inching it open, and looking down below.
To find the apartment flooded with people.
Drinking, eating, laughing, playing pool.
Had I gotten this wrong?
Was there actually a reception planned that I hadn’t been aware of?
But… no.
Because I didn’t recognize a single face from down below. Save for Elian and the driver from earlier.
And, of course, Renzo, who had a hand around a glass of amber liquid, and his head thrown back as he laughed at something someone said.
I’d never seen him so relaxed.
There was a tug inside me, familiar and no longer forbidden, making me wish I could be the one making a smile stretch across his handsome, but often too severe, face.