Rowan

"Rowan," a soft voice says through the music. I turn to see Mauricio and Araceli Delgado. Maria's parents. Mauricio is the former alpha of Tillamook Camp Pack. The two of them must be in their sixties by now, but they are healthy and strong, not shrunken with age. I can see the traits they gave their daughter, who then gave those traits to her son. Luis's brilliant smile comes directly from his grandfather. His quiet demeanor comes from his grandmother.

I have met them twice before, both times at Christmas. When Luis turned ten, his grandparents moved back to Mexico, where Araceli was born. They told the pack it was for a proper retirement somewhere warm, but Maria tells me they serve advisory roles in a pack there to keep them busy. They have been kind to me, but I'm not sure if I can behave as casually with them as I can with Maria and Jose.

I bow my head. "Abuelo. Abuela."

Mauricio and Araceli laugh. Mauricio waves his hand at me. "You don't need to bow, Rowan," he assures me. "You are part of the family now."

I smile at the old man. "I am honored," I tell him. I take Araceli's hand and kiss her knuckles. "You look lovely. Thank you both for coming."

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world. We wanted to thank you," Mauricio says. "It takes strength to love someone as deeply as you love Luis. You have seen a lifetime of "for better or for worse". But just know... when he took your ring, and your name, he became your family. And that makes us family as well. Never doubt that we love you, and never hesitate to ask for help or advice."

I find myself tearing up. "Thank you."

Araceli smiles. "You're welcome," she says in Spanish. Despite her best attempts, she speaks little English. Thankfully, I'm now approaching fluency in Spanish. "Though I do ask you hurry along with the babies."

"Celi," Mauricio laughs.

Araceli grins and shrugs. "What? Serena and Kiley are having babies. They're the same age."

My brow furrows as I look over at Kiley. She still dances peacefully with Ollie. "Kiley is pregnant?"

Mauricio sighs. "Celi insists she can tell."

"I can," Araceli replies, raising an eyebrow at her mate. "I'm not wrong."

Mauricio backs away from this challenge. "If you say so, my love." He looks back at me. "You will do excellently as an alpha, Rowan. You are perfect for the role you will play, and for Luis."

I glow with the praise. "Thank you."

Mauricio nods and reaches for Araceli's hand. "We must go. Araceli wants to meet the rest of our new family."

I laugh as Araceli eagerly walks up to my own grandmother. Then I search for Luis in the crowd. I find him speaking with my dad and Jose on the patio. All three of them sip champagne from elegant glass flutes.

"I leave you alone for ten minutes and our dads convince you to drink," I say from behind them. I cross my arms over my chest playfully. "Might I remind you, you're only nineteen, Mr. Arti?"

"We didn't have to convince shit," my dad says flatly as Luis laughs.

"It's his wedding, Rowan," Jose says, raising his glass. "Was I supposed to say "no"?"

But they know I'm teasing. Luis looks beautiful out here in the starlight. He has untied the bowtie of his tux and popped the top buttons to breathe better. I myself took the bowtie off completely when we got to the reception. His hair is gloriously messy. He smiles bashfully at me, setting the glass on the railing of the patio.

Jose claps Luis's shoulder. "Well, goodnight, mijo. I think Marshall and I should go try to find someone fun to hang out with."

With that, our dads leave us be. I pull Luis into a hug, my mind brimming with delicious possibilities. It is, after all, our wedding night. We have slept in different rooms for a week. This was a suggestion of his. Something about abstinence paying off on our wedding day.

"Call me that again?" Luis whispers into my ear. I feel his excitement in myself. His happiness, his satisfaction at finally being married.

"Mr. Arti..." I breathe, gently swaying him in my arms. "How many glasses of champagne have you had, Mr. Arti?"

"Three," he murmurs, nuzzling against my shoulder. "I thought it was like beer. It's not like beer."

I laugh. "No. Wine has triple the alcohol content."

"I get that now," he mutters abashedly. He leans back and presses a quick kiss to my lips. "Walk me home so I don't get mugged?"

I laugh again. He does, too. "Mugged? On your pack's land, surrounded by your pack and family?"

Luis pouts. "You couldn't roleplay for even a second, could you?"

I make a show of puffing out my chest and squaring my shoulders. "Absolutely, Mr. Arti. Let's get you home safe and sound."

Luis giggles as I offer him my arm. We sneak off of the patio and into the darkness, toward the packhouse. We are not the only ones making a subtle escape. I spot a glimmer of green satin in the garden. Kiley and Ollie are intertwined with each other like a pair of snakes, kissing under the moonlight. I resist the urge to wolf-whistle at them as I lead my husband into the packhouse.

Once we are in our room, my hands find Luis's hips. I bring him close to me, inhaling the scent of him. Fine fabric, sweet cologne, cotton, and moss. The scent is addicting. I take deep breaths as I kiss him, searching the fabric of his white shirt for the warm flesh underneath. I know the details of him, every muscle and tendon, but his body has never failed to excite me.

"It's not our honeymoon yet..." Luis sighs, his head rolling to the side so I can kiss under his jaw.

I pause. "You don't want to..." I dig my nails into his back and yank him so close to me we hardly have room to breathe. "... consummate our marriage?"

Luis sighs, swaying a bit with the effects of the alcohol. I trail my lips up his neck until I can look him in the eyes. "In some cultures, people aren't considered married until they make love to their new spouse."

"Not our cultures," he whispers, a teasing glint in his eye.

I lean back. "Do you want to wait?" I ask, though I'm praying his answer is no. It's going to be a long few days until our honeymoon, if that's the case.

"No," he whispers. "I was playing."

I seize him about the waist and walk him backward, lowering him onto the bed. He breathes heavily, dark brown eyes excited, watching my every movement.

I stroke my thumb over his eyebrow, down the side of his face, and to his lips. He opens his mouth obediently and I rest my thumb delicately against his tongue. I soak in the feeling of him laying beneath me for a moment. I feel his every breath, his every twitch of movement. His heart races alongside mine.

"Oh, Mr. Arti..." I sigh. "I'm going to make a mess of you."

Luis's eyes widen in delight. I slip my thumb out of his mouth and kiss him deeply, savoring the taste of him. I search his mouth with my tongue, playing the dominant as I unbutton his shirt. My love moans softly. I inhale the noise as he exhales it.

I part from him to strip away his shoes, socks, and pants. I smile when I see his underwear. He is wearing a jockstrap. A jockstrap in my favorite color, no less. The golden, brilliant orange makes his skin look delicious.

Luis sits up a bit, propping himself on his elbows, and watches my face anxiously. Two years together, my ring on his finger, my surname as his, and he still has no idea how heart-stoppingly sexy he is. He is nervous that I won't like the sight of him.

"Someone knew what they wanted," I say with a grin, ducking my head to bite the inside of his thigh. I grip his hips and squeeze as I bury my face in his abdominal muscles. "Fucking hell, Luis. How can anyone look this perfect? Should be illegal. I'm going to spend my entire life fighting other people away from you."

Luis lays back, rifling his fingers through my hair. "I'm only yours, Rowan. Yours forever."

I look up at him, shedding my jacket as I properly lay atop him again. Luis frames my face in his hands, making me keep his eye contact. "My husband," he breathes, the words filling us both with an impossible high. "You're my husband."

I press a long, careful kiss to his lips. "I'm your husband. And you're mine."

"Yours forever," he whispers again.

The roleplaying, the playful dominance and sweet submission, all vanishes. This man is so impossibly perfect. I am so incredibly blessed to have him in my life, let alone laying nearly naked beneath me.

We kiss as both of us work to take my clothes off. I have a surprise for Luis, too. I wish I'd thought to wear a jockstrap today, but at least my boxer-briefs are his favorite dark blue. He rolls me onto my back and drags the fabric off of me with his teeth. My heart rattles my ribcage like a maraca as I watch him, his perfect ass in the air, framed in the color he chose for me.

I continue to enjoy the sight as he moves his mouth to my cock. Pleasure consumes me as he does. He holds eye contact with me as he moves slowly up and down, his tongue swirling and sliding with practice and eagerness.

I reach for his shoulders, bringing him up to me for a kiss. I guide him to the bed beside me, hovering on his hands and knees. I run my finger down his spine, making him shiver, before I duck down to rim him. I move my tongue up-and-down, around, side-to-side. He moans and the noise is the single most sexual thing I have ever heard. His upper body collapses, his face mushing into the pillow. I watch his hands tighten on the blanket. He's shaking in delight.

I lean back, sitting on my ankles, and pull him back onto my lap. I hug him close, taking a moment to nibble the muscle of his back, before I reach down to free him from the jockstrap. His cock thick and heavy in my hand, ready for release after so many days apart. I cup his balls lightly, showing them some love before I begin stroking him. As I do, I reach between our bodies with my other hand. Slowly, carefully, I slip my middle finger inside of him.

Luis reaches behind himself, seeking me. I kiss his shoulder as he buries his hands in my hair, grabbing at the strands as I fill him with pleasure.

He moans desperately and the sound seems to flip a switch in both of us. He returns to his hands and knees and I slip my finger from him before reaching for our bedside drawer. I pause to grab two handfuls of his ass before I retrieve the lube. When I've turned back to him, he has moved to laying on his side, showing off the silhouette of his powerful body, his face still half-buried in the pillow. He looks up at me shyly, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

I growl. I didn't intend to make the noise. It sprung from me naturally. I push him onto his back and kiss him deeply. He parts his legs before wrapping them around me, pure muscle keeping me pressed against him. He only lets me part when he hears me click the lid off of the lube with my thumb.

I stare into his eyes as I apply the lube to him. He winces a bit at the coldness, reaching up to grip the pillow. I get a fantastic view of the perfect, triangular proportions of his upper body with his arms up like that.

I warm him up gently, not about to let frenzied passion trick me into hurting him. I kiss him slowly, sweetly, letting him set the pace. He releases the pillow and closes me into a hug.

"I'm ready," he tells me after some amount of time that could have been just seconds or decades.

I stroke some lube onto myself before I position myself and carefully push into him. His insides are delightful, incredible, mind-bogglingly wonderful. His mouth is open in a perfect O, his eyes never leaving mine as I sink into him. I hook his knees onto my arms and begin making love to my husband.

He strokes himself as I push and pull against him. I rake my fingers through his hair and kiss him, working up the pace quickly. I can tell from the sharpness of his breaths that he is close. It's been too long without each other. We're too high on our romance, on our shared last name, on the rings on our fingers. We don't last long at all.

As we soak in the afterglow, catching our breath, I consider the term "life partner". I've heard the term before, but I never understood it. Why not just say spouse?

Now I get it. I share my life with Luis. Mine is his, his is mine.

I become the little spoon and soak in as much comfort as I can from him. I need it after such awful intrusive thoughts earlier.

"Are you okay?" Luis asks.

His arm is slung over my ribs, his hand up by my chin. I hug his forearm like a teddy bear.

"Just afraid this peace won't last," I whisper. "It seems like too many good things are happening to us."

"It won't," Luis replies. "But it's okay. I... I know this sounds corny, but... we have each other." He nudges me so I lean back to look at him. I wish I could live in those brown eyes.

I snuggle back down, taking his arm with me again. "You're right. I love you."

"I love you, too."