#elorcan tddup

[theladyofdeath]

Any updates on the elorcan fic tddup?

As of right now, that fic remains on hiatus. :)

[theladyofdeath]

So I guess the elorcan fanfic tddup is on a hiatus..,?

It will resume but I am not sure when. :)

[theladyofdeath]

New chapter! 🔥

‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Sixteen}

Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.

@snelbzx @theladyofdeath collab

‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist

This chapter is 18+.

Lorcan —

It’s been about a week since the party from hell and since I caught Elide watching me in the shower. I was worried things would get weird between us, either from the aforementioned party or from the fact that I may have caught her watching me, but she caught me jacking off.

Which is ridiculous, because before I got married, I hadn’t regularly masturbated since high school. It had never been a problem that needed to be taken care of, but now it’s a daily thing. Sometimes more, considering how much dry humping Elide I do on the couch. Those days and the days following are usually twice. I’m surprised my fucking hand isn’t raw.

I haven’t actively tried to get her to have sex with me in a while. Sure, we make out pretty often, but I figure I’m liable to get in her good graces by stopping before she asks me to, rather than pushing it every time.

Something that got brought up the night of the party hasn’t sat well with me since we talked about it. My wife and I never got to have a first date. There’s a lot of firsts we didn’t get. Some we never will, some we’ll still share at some point. But a first date is something I want us to remedy as soon as possible.

Like tonight for instance.

I called Aelin the night before and asked for her help, which she was more than happy to give. She had come by an hour before and picked Elide up for a spa day, so I now have about four hours or so to prep a night that she won’t forget.

I’m in a little boutique downtown that looks like a place I shouldn’t be allowed into. The workers don’t seem to mind. They’re actually being helpful, although I don’t know if it’s because I’m rich or because I’m famous. Maybe it’s both. Either way, I don’t give a damn because it’s all for Elide. 

So far, the pretty, young saleswoman has helped me choose a necklace and earrings set along with a pair of shoes that I know are Elide’s size, thanks to Aelin. It’s all silver, and I’m not sure what dress I should choose.

I can honestly say I’ve never gone dress shopping before and I want Elide to like it.

It’s my first gift to her, tonight. I want it to be perfect.

Gods, I sound like a fucking hallmark movie, but I can’t stop.

I try to remain shameless as I sort through a rack of dresses but I must seem frustrated because the saleswoman comes up to me with a smile.

“What is your wife like?” She asks. “Maybe I can help.”

“Short,” I say, thinking of how perfect she is. “Black hair, with a body you wouldn’t believe. The biggest ti—” I stop myself, clearing my throat. Elide would be proud. “She’s…gifted in the cleavage area.”

The young saleswoman chuckles. “I see. And does she usually dress pretty conservatively or does she like to show off those gifts?”

I think about it for a second. “Somewhere in the middle, I guess.”

She nods, politely. “Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring out a few options?”

I nod and take a seat in a white chair that I’m scared I’ll get dirty, even though I’m perfectly clean. 

I wait about five minutes and check my phone. All I have is a picture of Elide in her fluffy spa robe with a text that reads This is the softest thing I’ve ever had on my body. I’m never taking it off.

I chuckle and text back, shit you’re cute before stuffing my phone back into my pocket and looking up to find the saleswoman reappearing with two different dresses.

One is black. It’s form fitting. It’s nice. But my eyes go to the red one and I don’t even have to think about it before I’m at the counter and they’re ringing everything up. Fourteen hundred dollars later and I’m out the door.

I don’t remember the last time I got a haircut, but since she’s going to be looking her best, so should I. Rowan’s hair was longer than mine about a year ago, but he chopped it off for some charity thing Aelin talked him into. They ended up raising over two hundred thousand dollars for kids in foster care, so I guess it was worth it, but I’m not ready to cut my hair off, good cause or no. I stop in to see his barber for a trim and then after a couple more errands, I’m on the way home.

When I get home, I put the wine I got for Elide in the fridge and the flowers in a vase. She’ll be home in less than an hour, so I take a shower, making sure to take my time and make everything…presentable.

Just because I’m not expecting to get any tonight doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be prepared.

My shower takes longer than I expected, especially since I tried to make sure my hair didn’t look like shit, and I’m standing in the bathroom with nothing but a pair of black slacks on when I hear the front door open.

Not exactly how I planned to greet her, but it works.

“Lor?”

Her voice carries up the stairs and I can’t help but smile at the shortened version of my name she’s taken to using. People have called me that my entire life, Rowan more than anyone, but from her it almost seems more intimate. I like it. It means she’s getting more comfortable with me, just like I am with her.

“Bedroom,” I call, slipping one arm into a shirt sleeve. I pull it on, but don’t have it buttoned by the time I hear Elide enter our room. There’s a gasp and I can’t help the self satisfied smirk as I know she’s seen her gifts I laid out on the bed. I leave the bathroom, fully intending to make some joke about women taking too long at the spa, but then I see her.

She looks absolutely gorgeous. Seductive. Sinful. I don’t have the words to describe how amazing she looks, and I write songs for a living. I won’t pretend to know a single thing about makeup, but her eyes are dark and sexy, with just a hint of sparkle. Her lips are the color of red wine and I want to get drunk off her kiss. I was right, she’d been looking at her gifts, but when she noticed my attention, she turned to me and I swear that when she blushes and looks down, her eyelashes are so long that they actually brush her cheeks.

I murmur, “Holy shit,” and she tucks a strand of her curled, dark hair behind her ear. Approaching her, I cup her cheeks. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Her cheeks go even more red. So does her chest which, of course, is right where my eyes go.

She catches me, raising a dark eyebrow. I have no defense, so I smile and lean down, pausing just before my lips are in hers. “Am I allowed to kiss you or will it mess up your lipstick?”

“It’s supposed to be kissproof,” she breathes as one of her hands wraps around my wrist, “if you’d like to test it out.”

Hell yeah, I do.

I kiss her softly, but it’s not a quick kiss. I kiss Elide differently than I’ve ever kissed anyone before. I take my time and I make it mean something. When I pull back, her lipstick is perfect, just like the rest of her.

“So,” she says, seeming to catch her breath, “are you going to tell me what all of this is about?”

She gestures to herself then the bed, a sweet smile on her painted lips.

“I thought it was about time I take you out on our first date,” I say, bringing the back of her hand to my mouth. “Considering you deserve the best, I wanted you to feel a little pampered before I take you out for a night on the town.” I nod towards the bed. “Found you a few things I thought you might like this morning.” 

She turns to the bed and looks a little closer at the outfit I had chosen for her. When she doesn’t say anything, I get worried.

“Don’t feel pressured,” I say, hurriedly. “If you want to wear something else, that’s okay, too.” Another second passes and I suddenly feel stupid. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine—”

“I love it,” she breathes, and when she turns to me her eyes are shining, blurred. I frown and reach out to her. “But you didn’t have to do this. This stuff is so beautiful, but it looks so expensive.”

I lace our fingers together. “It wasn’t that bad. And I wanted to.”

She laughs quietly as she shakes her head. “The dress alone probably costs more than I paid for rent for a month—”

“Hey,” I murmur, and pull her closer to me. She comes willingly. “Don’t worry about the money. It’s a gift.”

I see that stubborn glint in her eye. “But it’s too much—”

“I’m not backing down on this,” I interrupt. “It can sit in your damn closet for all I care, I’m not taking it back. But, selfishly, I do wanna see you in that dress.”

Her eyes soften as she glances back at the outfit before turning back to me. A hand wanders up to my cheek then she’s up on her toes, her mouth finding mine. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, and kiss her again.

“But no more expensive gifts,” she says, eyes narrowed. She’s smiling. I love it.

“Deal,” I laugh, neglecting to tell her that the price of our dinner is going to blow her mind.

Or that the rest of the night is just a drop in the bucket that is my bank account. She’s never actually asked how much my net worth is and I know she could just Google it if she wanted, but I like that she really doesn’t seem to give a shit that I have money.

A pretty large percentage of groupies were also gold-diggers, so it became pretty easy to pick them out, and Elide couldn’t be farther from the type.

We finish getting ready, which only takes about five minutes since all Elide needs to do is change clothes and I finish getting dressed.

I make it downstairs before her, and as I get the full effect of her in that dress, I’m frozen in place. It’s as perfect as I thought it would be, hugging her curves in all the right places, without showing too much off.

How the hell did I get so lucky?

How did I ever think I didn’t want her?

I was an idiot when I said she wasn’t my type. My type is whatever she is and I don’t ever want anything else.

She clears her throat as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, a clutch in her hands. “What do you think?”

I think I want to rip that dress off of you and bend you over the couch.

I don’t think she’d hate that response, not with how she’s been looking at me lately, but I put a lot of thought into this night, and ending it here would be worth it, but disappointing. So instead, I take her hand and brush my lips along her fingers. “You look amazing.”

That adorable blush blooms in her cheeks again and I tug her into the kitchen.

“I would’ve given you these when I picked you up, but we live together,” I say, gesturing to the vibrant bouquet of flowers. Aelin said she wasn’t sure if Elide had a favorite flower, so I told the florist she had free reign to create the most beautiful arrangement possible.

She looks at them for a minute with a small smile before turning to me. “You’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled,” I say in all honesty.

I’m thinking that blush will be appearing for a majority of our date. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

We take the camaro to the restaurant. I refuse to tell her where we’re going even though she keeps asking. I like surprising her. 

We pull up to The Stags Steakhouse and her mouth drops open. I put the car in park to get out and let the valet park it but Elide doesn’t move.

“We’re eating here?” She asks, eyes wide. “Lor—”

I hold up a hand. “It’s not too much and it’s delicious.”

I feel her relax as she nods and reaches for her door handle. 

“No, no,” I say quickly. She freezes and I get out and quickly round the car to open her door. One of her brows is raised as if she doesn’t quite believe that I can be a gentleman. I can be a fucking gentleman. After handing my keys to the attendant, I hold out my hand and she takes it. As they pull my car away, we walk inside. 

The place is pristine. It’s one of the highest rated restaurants in Terrasen and the most prestigious in Orynth. I’ve only been here once, when we were celebrating our last album going platinum, but I don’t remember much from that night. I was drunk as hell. Now, I’m completely sober and taking in every moment with my smoking hot wife on my arm. 

I give the host my name and we’re seated at a table under a giant crystal chandelier. 

“Get whatever you want,” I say, and order a bottle of wine for our table. 

She opens the menu, looks through a few seconds, and pauses. After turning the page, her eyes flick to mine. “There’s no prices.”

“No, there aren’t,” I say, drinking from my glass of iced water. “But I promise, you’ll like whatever you choose.”

She’s leaning across the table so I meet her halfway. “This is one of those places where a steak costs forty bucks, isn’t it?”

Her conspiratorial whisper makes me laugh. “Try sixty or more, but yeah, it is.”

Those dark eyes nearly big out of her head. “Lorcan, that’s insane.”

“No,” I say, reaching across the table to take her hand. “For one night, can I please convince you to stop worrying about money?”

She shakes her head. “That’s a lot easier said than done.”

“I know, but please.” I squeeze her fingers. “For one night.”

She sighs, her eyes softening. “Okay. I’ll try.”

She does try but not very hard. At first, she orders a cup of soup and a side salad, but unfortunately for her I order two steaks with two sides each then claim I’m only hungry for one and she should eat the other.

She does.

I can tell she loves it, can tell that she’s practically in heaven with every bite, but when she’s done she simply says, “That was pretty good.”

I laugh. I laugh a lot at the things that she says. Half the time she’s not even trying to be funny, she’s just so damn adorable that I can’t help it.

Once we’re done with our meals, I refill her wine glass with the little bit that’s left in the bottle. She’s finally comfortable, finally relaxed. I don’t know if it’s because of the wine or because of my calming presence, but I hope it’s the latter, although I assume it’s more of the former.

I can’t stop looking at her.

She’s fucking gorgeous. 

She must be able to tell my thoughts because that scarlet tint across her cheeks and chest returns.

“I hope that you’re having a good time,” I say, quietly, her hand in mine once again. I brush my thumb over the back of her hand and her fingers tighten around mine.

“I am,” she promises. “Tonight…” she shakes her head. “I’ve never felt so cherished.”

I smile. I like that word. Cherished. That’s how I want to make her feel, always. Cherished. Wanted. Taken care of.

“Good,” I say, and she pulls her hand back to reach for another sip of wine. Her eyes never leave mine. In the process, she knocks over her glass and spills the red liquid onto her lap, creating a small, dark blotch on the skirt of her dress. She gasps, nearly jumping out of her chair. 

“It’s alright.” I laugh, but she won’t look at me. I can tell she’s embarrassed but no one around us has even noticed. I take my napkin and scoot my chair around the table, pressing it to her thigh, absorbing the liquid. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She says nothing and when I look up, she’s frowning. My smile falters and she takes the napkin out of my hand, tossing it on the table.

“El, it’s just wine,” I whisper, and she gives me a fake smile and nods.

She’s quiet for the next few minutes as I pay and we wait for the valet. It isn’t until we’re driving home, only a few miles away from the house, that she finally says anything again. She reaches across the space between us and takes my hand. “I really did have a good time, Lor. That place was so beautiful and absolutely delicious. Thank you for taking me there.”

I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I overreacted at the end,” she says, quietly.

I look over at her, forgetting that I’m the one driving. “You didn’t overreact.”

“Yes, I did,” she says, and when she blushes this time, I feel it’s out of embarrassment, not because I’m charming. “You were right, it’s just a spill. I can get it out of the dress.” I don’t think she’s done talking so I sit quietly, eyes returning to the road while she sorts out her thoughts. “I’ve never worn anything this nice. I feel stupid for staining it the first time I wear it. You spent so much money on it and it’s so beautiful…and I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it, baby.” I squeeze her fingers and my thumb traces her wedding band. “You just said you can get it out. And even if you couldn’t, it’s okay. Accidents happen.”

She nods, but I can tell it’s still bothering her. The rest of the ride is quiet. After I pull the car into the garage, I give her a look. It takes a second, but then she blinks and scoffs. “Fine. Come on.”

I’m out of the car a heartbeat later and opening her door for her. I grin as she takes my outstretched hand. She isn’t expecting the sharp tug as she stands and she falls into my arms as soon as she’s on her feet. Her soft laugh does things to my stomach. Those aren’t…butterflies, right?

“What are you—?”

Her words cut off as my lips crash into hers. It doesn’t take much before she’s relaxing in my hold, the hand not holding her clutch reaching up to clasp the back of my neck. I wrap an arm around her waist and kiss her like she’s the air I need to breathe.

If I took her to bed right now, what would she do? Would she let me or would I be doing more harm than good?

I pull away, cursing myself as I take in her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and swollen lips. I wonder what those lips would like around my cock?

Godsdamnit, Lorcan, get your shit together.

We head in and I pour her a glass of wine.

“More wine?” She asks, taking a sip. “You aren’t trying to get me drunk, are you?”

“It’s crossed my mind, but no.” I wink at her and make myself a drink, too. When I turn around, she’s inspecting the stain on the front of her dress. That adorable frown is back, as is the crease between her eyebrows. “What is it, baby?”

“I need to get this stain out as quickly as I can.” Grabbing her clutch, she heads for the stairs, but turns back and swipes her wine. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch her go and then quickly pull my phone out and Google how to get rid of a red wine stain.

Boiling water and table salt. Huh.

The bathroom door is closed when I enter the bedroom and I knock on the door. “Elide?”

“Just a second!”

I know she isn’t, but suddenly I have the image of a role reversal from the night she watched me in the shower. She’s just changing, maybe trying to rinse the wine out in the sink, but now I can’t stop thinking about her touching herself.

I wonder if she touches herself. I’m sure she does, everyone does, but how often? And what does she think about? Does she think about me?

I sure as fuck think about her.

She opens the door, gasping softly when she finds me standing there, both hands braced on the door frame. “Gods, Lorcan, you scared me.”

The dress is in her hands and she’s wearing a white t-shirt and some little black shorts.

Taking it from her, I press a kiss to her lips. “Why don’t you take a bubble bath and relax, baby?”

“But my dress—”

“I can handle it,” I promise. “Believe me, not the first spill that’s happened and won’t be the last one either. Not with Fenrys around.”

She gnaws on her lip and she’s gotta stop doing that cause now I want to sink my teeth into it. “I do have a bath bomb formula I’ve been wanting to test out.”

“Perfect.” I spin her and smack her ass. “Now go relax.”

She yelps then laughs as I turn around to leave and she shuts the bathroom door. The sound of her laughter follows me as I make my way back to the kitchen.

After tossing the dress on the counter, I’m boiling water. As it boils, I grab the salt shaker and pour it generously over the stain. I let it sit, as Google told me to, and when the water is at a boil I start to brush it off. After dipping a rag into the scalding water, I remove the rest of the salt with it and take a step back to admire my work.

It’s not as bad…but the stain is still there.

Fuck.

Back to Google. 

There are a million ways, apparently, to get wine stains out of fabric. A popular one is baking soda and dish soap, but I don’t think we have baking soda so I take on the one that uses club soda.

I have club soda.

I go to the bar and grab a full bottle before going back to the kitchen and stretching the dress out over the sink before pouring the liquid onto the stain. After about five minutes of doing that, scrubbing, and swearing, I’m shocked.

I hold the dress up into the light.

No stain.

At least, not one that can be seen in the soaking wet fabric. I pray to the fucking gods that there’s no stain to be seen when it’s dried, either, but for now I’m excited to ease some of Elain’s anxiety.

I hurry back upstairs and knock on the bathroom door.

“Yes?” she asks, and water sloshes around. “I got it out,” I say through the door. ��Wanna see?”

She laughs. “I’m in the bath, per your request.”

“Bubbles cover everything,” I say, impatiently. “Can I come in?”

She doesn’t reply for a second and I’m thinking she’ll say no, but then the opposite comes. “Yeah.”

For a moment, I think I heard wrong but then I twist the knob and she doesn’t protest as I push the door open. She’s sitting in a tub filled with bubbles. The bubbles covering her from the shoulders down and her dark hair now piled high on the top of her head in a bun.

She looks cute as shit.

I realize I’m staring when her lips twist into a smile and one of her dark brows raise. “My dress?”

Blinking, I shake my head before holding up her dress and bringing it closer. “See? No stain. You can tell me how amazing I am whenever you’re ready.” 

She rolls her eyes, but reaches out to brush a couple fingers over the fabric. They come away clean. “Look at you. So amazing.”

Sarcasm drips from her tone and damn it, it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. And there she is, sitting in the tub, completely naked.

I assume she is, at least. I highly doubt she’s wearing a strapless swimsuit in there, but I could be wrong.

I fucking hope not.

The humidity in the room has made her makeup smudge around her eyes a little and somehow, she’s even sexier than she was half an hour ago. I didn’t think that was possible.

I toss the dress behind me on the counter, not giving a shit about the former stain, wet spot, or the fact that it was over seven hundred dollars and it’s a wadded up mess, and squat down next to her in the tub. “Look at me? Look at you.”

She does this adorable thing where she scrunches her nose up. “I’m a sweaty mess, and I can’t believe you just threw the dress. You just got the stain out.”

“You’re hot as hell.” My eyes flick down to the water despite knowing they shouldn’t. No luck though, all I can see is a layer of thick, foamy bubbles, with the occasional glimpse of skin. The universe is trying to keep me from seeing my wife naked and I don’t appreciate it. “And it’ll be fine. I fixed it once, I’ll fix it twice.”

I look back up at her and she has an eyebrow raised again. I grin, unashamed. “Can you blame me?”

Elide rolls her eyes, showing that fire again, and I swear, my cock kicks from inside my pants. Resting my forearm against the tub, I dip my fingers into the bubbles and blow them at her. She bats them away, but I catch her wet hand before she can submerge it back under the bubbles. I kiss her fingertips and pause. I lick my lips. “You taste delicious.” Come to think of it, the room smells…sweet. “What is that?”

“It’s the bath bomb I dropped in with the bubbles.” She sniffs delicately at her wrist. “Is it too strong? It’s a mix of a few essential oils. It’s supposed to smell like birthday cake. I haven’t perfected the mix yet—”

I crash my mouth against hers, partially to shut her up, but also because I’ve restrained myself as long as I can. I love when she talks about her business, it’s amazing that she makes her own products and has a following big enough to support herself. It’s one of my favorite things about her, she’s got a kick ass work ethic.

But I could not give a single fuck about it right now.

Because she’s naked in the bathtub and she smells like a cake and I want to devour her.

I pull back and rest my forehead against hers, and she’s breathing just as heavily as I am. Her eyes are just as lust-filled as I’m sure mine are, and it takes everything in me not to climb into the tub, clothes and all. She must be reading my mind because her hands come out of the tub and she starts to unbutton my shirt in the slowest, most agonizing way. I glance between us, trying to get a glimpse of those beautiful breasts that I can’t wait to see, but I see nothing except for my shirt opening. Her sudsy hands brace themselves against my chest, and I take it upon myself to unbutton the rest of my shirt before slipping it off. Her hands explore my chest, my shoulders, and I don’t dare move. She touches me gently, with just her fingertips, and it sets me on fire. Gods, I want her. I want her so fucking bad, more than I have ever wanted anything or anyone. 

I’m so fucking hard that I feel like my dick’s about to break in half.

This time, she kisses me. My tongue searches for hers and when I find it, I can’t get enough of the taste. One of my hands slides into her hair and the other grabs onto the edge of the tub, keeping me grounded, keeping me from losing all control. I’m sure my knuckles are white beneath the ink covering them.

Elide gasps as I take her bottom lip between my teeth and tug, and then her soapy hands are cradling my face. She turns just a little so that she’s better facing me, but I still don’t see a thing.

But that’s okay, I realize, because tonight it’s about Elide.

I spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect for her, making sure she was spoiled, making sure she was treated like a queen, right down to scrubbing a stain out of a fucking dress. I won’t stop now.

Gods, she looked so fucking good in that dress.

I groan into her mouth and I swear she shudders, but I break the kiss again. She moves to reconnect it but I move back, just out of her reach. Her brows furrow, her eyes wide and crazed and full of lust. 

“What?” she breathes.

My hand falls from her hair as I say, “I wanna touch you.”

I expect her to say no, to freeze up, possibly even yell at me. I’m willing to push for it tonight, because I want her so bad, I’ll do whatever I can to make her feel good. I wait for her to fight me, even for her to give me more of her snark I live for.

So when she swallows roughly and nods, breathing out a soft, “Okay,” I don’t believe what I’m hearing.

I ask, a little more directly, “I can touch you?”

To punctuate my words, I dip my fingers in the water, letting them swirl a hole into the surrounding bubbles. A teasing glimpse of her legs peeks through.

Nodding, she says, “Yes. Please.”

Her eyes are bright with anticipation. I hope I don’t disappoint.

I claim her mouth again, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other slipping beneath the water. Despite the bubbles, I easily find her legs, dragging my hand up the inside of her thigh until my fingers gently brush over her sex.

Elide gasps against my lips the second I touch her and I brush my thumb along her cheekbone, trying to soothe her. “Breathe for me, baby.”

“I am breathing,” she snaps back, sass dripping from her words and it’s the just perfect thing for her to say in this exact moment.

I part her folds with a finger, gliding it from the very base of her slit, all the way up to her throbbing clit.

I pull back, just a hair. “You’re already soaked.”

Her blush darkens and she takes in a shuddering breath as I circle her clit with my finger. “Let’s just say I was very glad you offered me the same courtesy of knocking that I did not offer you.”

I stare at her, slowing my finger to a maddening pace. “You were touching yourself?”

I almost miss her quick nod, but don’t and I fight the urge to groan softly. “Were you thinking of me?”

It’s egotistical to assume she was, but I really fucking hope she was.

Her hips jerk as my finger leaves her clit and teases her entrance. Elide breathes, “I think about you all the time.”

My heart does funny things in my chest at that, and it may be just about the best thing anyone has ever said to me. 

But I need her to clarify. It’s stupid, and she’d likely call it territorial bullshit, but I need to know if my wife was getting off to the thought of me or another man.

I don’t move my fingers again until her eyes are focused on me. Leaning down, I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Were you thinking about me when you were touching yourself, Elide?”

There’s no hesitation this time. “Yes.”

I kiss her again, hot and hard. Her mouth opens to mine and I delve my tongue inside, tasting the heat of her breath and catching the sweet moan she lets out when I push my finger into her warmth. Her thighs part and her hand comes up out of the water to caress my cheek as I let my hand own her, my thumb rubbing her pulsing clit while I slip my fingers in and out of her. My cock throbs like mad in my slacks, begging to get into her. Holy fuck, is she tight. Two years of no sex is very, very good.

Her thighs squeeze my hand and she grasps the side of my neck, her breath panting against my mouth, and I know she's there already. I really want to drag this out, tease her and make her crazy, but that seems cruel right now when she's writhing her hot little core all over my hand. I like horny Elide.

As she moans and rides my hand, I genuinely consider pulling her out of the tub and taking her right here on the bathroom floor, but I said this night was about her, and I meant it. No matter how badly I want to shove my dick into her tight, wet pussy and see if she screams my name.

Suddenly, her walls clench and drench around my swirling fingers up inside her, while the rest of her body arches up, pressing against me, her muscles tightening and quivering. I swallow the cry of pleasure as her orgasm sweeps through her, kissing her slowly as she comes back down.

I have so many plans for her now that the doors have been opened, so to speak.

“Who’s my girl?” I whisper against her ear, moving my hand up to rest atop her stomach.

“Me,” she answers, breathlessly. Her eyes are shut, her chest is heaving, and one of her hands is still white knuckling the edge of the tub.

“That’s right.”

My girl. The last thing I thought I would ever want, and now, all I’ll ever need.

[theladyofdeath]

New chapter! 🔥

‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Seventeen}

Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab.

‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist

A/N: The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Enjoy. 😏

This chapter is 18+.

Elide —

The calls with Yrene have been happening less frequently as time goes on, but today, I’m sitting in front of my laptop, waiting for her to pop up. It’s me and Lorcan’s one month anniversary. I woke up this morning to a table full of breakfast. There was so much food that there was no way we could have finished it, but it was beautiful. He had flowers in the middle of the table and mimosas made to perfection. It was such a sweet gesture and by the end of breakfast I was stuffed silly and a little tipsy, which I found to be a combination that I liked.

Now, Yrene’s picture pops up on the screen and I waste no time as I accept the call.

She’s smiling, like always. “Good afternoon, Elide.”

“Good afternoon,” I smile, and fidget with my hands in my lap. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” She laughs quietly. “The better question is, how are you?”

“Good,” I say, and mean it. “Great, actually.”

“I hope you’re referring both to yourself individually and with your husband,” she says.

I nod. “Things have been going really, really well. There’s definitely an attraction between us now. Things seem to be getting easier and easier by the day.”

Yrene remains quiet for a moment, like she’s waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, her head cocks to the side. “But?”

Hesitating, I blink. “How do you know there’s a but?”

Yrene’s soft laughter is genuine and makes me feel comfortable around her. “Elide, in our chats, there is always a but.”

She has me there. Although things between Lorcan and me have been going great, I do always seem to have a but. It’s in my DNA. My brain is always searching for the con. 

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I don’t know exactly how he feels about me and it’s frustrating. Sometimes I get a feel for his emotions, but most of the time I’m just guessing what’s going on inside of his brain. Men are complicated…especially when they’re incapable of sharing their emotions.”

Yrene nods thoughtfully. “So, am I correct in assuming you have yet to have sex?”

After nibbling on my lip for a moment, I shake my head. “No, we haven’t.”

“Because you’re not sure how he feels about you?” she pushes.

“Exactly. I mean, I want to. I’ve been at that place for a little while now, wanting to have sex with him, but I just want it to be the right time.” It was the first time I’m saying it out loud and I realize how much I really do want him, especially after last week. “I want us both to have more intimate feelings, I want it to mean something.”

“And you’re telling me that you already have those feelings?” she asks, voice kind. “That you’re ready?”

“Yes,” I admit, and I’m confident in it. Even though I’m not so confident in exactly what it is that Lorcan’s feeling. “It’s not that Lorcan isn’t good to me. He’s so good to me. In fact, I’ve been surprised at what a good man he is. I just… I don’t know. I almost feel like, sometimes, he just wants the physical from me but he wants to avoid the emotional. You know? The physical stuff…he’s good at that. But I need more of the emotional from him. I want a deep, emotional connection.” 

Yrene processes what I’m saying, taking a few notes,  before she meets my eye again. “It seems that you two have different love languages. However, they’re not so different that they cannot coincide. It all has to do with how you convey your emotions.”

I frown. “I’m not following.”

“I can’t tell you what Lorcan and I talk about, but I can tell you that he may be expressing how he feels, he simply isn’t doing it the same way that you do, so you may be missing it.” I’m having a hard time making sense of what she’s saying and when I say nothing, she continues. “You two need to learn each other’s love languages and work on finding a common ground.” When I hesitate, she laughs quietly and puts it into simpler terms. “There are a lot of things you could be doing, intimately, without having actual intercourse, Elide.” My cheeks heat as I think about what he did for me in the bath last week, but I don’t say anything. “Maybe that's what he needs. He could possibly, just maybe, be assuming you don't have feelings for him because you're not giving him the type of attention he requires. Just like you feel he's not giving you what you need.”

I nod slowly. “I guess you could be right.”

She laughs and her smile is genuine. “This is what I do, after all… I think you both need to give a little, specifically you need to let your walls down some. You are married, after all, and intimacy is important in a marriage. While I completely respect you trying to guard your heart and body, I have a feeling that making love with him is only going to bring you closer together. And if what you’re telling me is true, whether you sleep with him or not, if things don’t end well, it sounds like you’re going to have your heart broken anyways. It would be unfortunate if you had to question things afterward, that maybe things didn't go as well as they should have because you both left this huge, important part out of your marriage. The whole idea of this experiment is to put yourself into it one hundred percent.”

Reluctantly, I nod, and I swear, I can see a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Okay. I see what you mean. If this was over tomorrow, and he decided he didn’t want to stay married, I wouldn’t blame him. But I would miss him and I’d be pretty pissed at myself for ruining what we had. The last thing I want is to push him away.”

“Then I think you need to try to spice things up a little, see how it goes. Try to remember you both answered a lot of intimate, personal questions in your written interviews, and we had our reasons when we put you together. I know it might not seem obvious to you right now, but try to trust us, okay?”

“You’re right.” I sigh and pick at a hangnail. “I'm sorry if we’ve been difficult.”

She waves her hand at me. “Don't you dare apologize. That’s what this is all about. You two are by far our most unique couple in the experiment, and you both have been incredibly honest in your chats. So, thank you for that. I know it can get uncomfortable for you at times.”

That was an understatement.

She asks a few more questions, making sure I’ve still been writing in my journal like I’m supposed to before we hang up.

I hadn’t thought about Lorcan needing to be loved differently than I do. While I need him to tell me how he feels, he seems to be more of a show, not tell kind of person. I have no idea how to go about confirming that.

A personality quiz?

I consider the simplicity of the idea, sure that I could find something online, as I head down to the basement to move the laundry over to the dryer. I’ve got a few orders I need to fill, so I head for the stairs, but I notice the door to Lorcan’s workout room is open.

And so is his journal, sitting on one of the benches.

I freeze and a full-on internal war is raging in my head. I know I shouldn’t look, Yrene just told me in our video chat that she couldn’t tell me anything he’d told her.

But it’s right there, and there are things I’ve written in my journal that I definitely haven’t told Yrene about.

I enter the gym, pushing the door the rest of the way open. I cringe when the hinges squeak, even though I know he’s at Vaughn’s getting work done on a new tattoo. He shouldn’t be home for a couple hours at least.

I pick up the soft, leather journal, loving that we both opted to go the handwritten route, rather than just the notes app on our phones or something impersonal like that. The page I’m looking at is blank, but I can tell there’s something written on the one before.

Taking a deep breath, I decide I’ll just read the most recent page. That’s it.

I don't know how to break through the walls she has up. I know she's still scared. I know I've done things to fuck up and my past is shitty. But I've tried to make up for the stuff I've done. I'm not good at talking about my feelings. I try to show them, but I'm not sure it's working. It's like she's clueless about how much she already means to me. I wish she would do something, anything, to show me that she actually wants me. I did this to feel wanted and loved for who I am and what I can give, but fuck, I'm lost. I know she cares about me, but I'm struggling with getting closer to her. I've never been the touchy-feely type, but somehow she's got me doing that stuff. But I want more. Maybe I'm a dick, but sex is important to me. It's just important in a different way with her. I have no idea what I'm even saying anymore. I'm afraid the longer this goes on, we're never going to be more than roommates that tease each other sometimes. I'm not sure where my wife is in all this or how to get her to come out.

My hands are shaking as I put the journal back, just like I found it. My eyes blur with tears as I hurry from the room and back upstairs, laundry king forgotten.

And here I thought he just wanted my body. He wants more, just like I do.

This proves we have a long way to go in our marriage. We have some serious communication issues that we’ll have to work through, and I think that’s why we’re both so confused. I don’t like talking about my feelings and he doesn’t know how.

Forget the online quizzes, forget love languages.

I know exactly what will show Lorcan how I feel.

Lorcan —

Fuck, that feels good.

It’s a little after one in the morning when I’m woken up, or so the clock in the dresser across the room tells me. I’m a pretty light sleeper and it’s not unusual for me to constantly be waking up in the middle of the night, especially when I’m sharing a bed with Elide who moves around nonstop in her sleep, but usually I’m not woken up like this.

What I initially think is another damned sex dream is reality. My body shifts as I groggily open my eyes to my dick hard and satisfied.

There’s not many feelings greater than having a beautiful woman sucking your cock.

Fuck.

The realization has me wide awake and looking down, where Elide is settled between my legs, her mouth taking in the length of me. I can see her perfectly clear, even with the lights off. At first, I think I’m still dreaming but I really fucking hope I’m not.

Even though I’ve had this dream multiple times and it always ends so damn good.

“Elide.” My voice is low and gravelly, rough from sleep. She looks up at me through dark lashes and grabs my base as her lips move up my cock.

“Shit,” I hiss, and I’m almost frozen in place out of both shock and excitement. I don’t want to jinx it, whether it’s a dream or not. Her free hand grips my thigh and her nails dig into my skin as her mouth comes free of me.

Looking me dead in the eye, she smiles and it’s something between sultry and shy that sets my whole body on fire. Her tongue slowly glides over the swollen head and I curse again. 

My head falls back against my pillow as she takes my cock back in her mouth and starts bobbing her head. It’s warm and wet and every so often, her teeth graze my shaft. It’s exactly what I fucking like and I’ve never even told her.

My mind races back to this evening and the time before we went to bed. We ordered in and I picked it up on my way in from Vaughn’s. We watched a movie and made out a little, but I didn’t even so much as try to touch her boobs. And then we went to bed, and she fell asleep on my chest, just like she does every night. What did I do or say to entice her to finally touch me on her own? I come up blank.

I don’t fucking care what it was, not as her tongue swirls around the tip, feeling like wet velvet. I fist a handful of hair, getting it out of her face so I can watch as she goes down on me, mesmerized as I watch my cock disappear in her sweet mouth. She sucks me like she does everything else, soft and sweet at first, teasing me. As she works up to taking more of me, her free hand squeezes the base at the same time her teeth hit me again.

I hiss, my hold on her hair tightening, and her eyes fall closed as she moans. That sexy moan vibrates around my dick and I damn near blow my load right there, but I manage to hold it off, cupping the side of her face.

With her eyes still shut, Elide starts taking me deeper and deeper with each pass. When I feel the head of my dick bump the back of her throat, I’m powerless to stop the groan that tumbles from my lips. “Fuck, baby.”

My murmured praise spurs her on, which I fucking love. She doesn’t try to swallow my cock again, though I’m willing to let her try whenever she wants to give it a shot. Instead, she grasps the base, wrapping her hand around me and moving it up and down in perfect unison with her mouth, creating a long, wet tunnel for me to slide in and out of.

Her eyes meet mine and it’s almost as if I can read her mind.

Go ahead.

My other hand finds the other side of her head and I lift my hips, thrusting up into her waiting mouth.

I nearly lose control as her eyes roll back in her head. Every time I have imagined what this would look like, it hadn’t even come close to this, the real thing. She’s absolutely gorgeous with my cock in her mouth.

I thrust up again, and her tongue is going wild. I know I can’t hold on too much longer. My heart is about to explode from the anticipation. I set a steady pace, careful not to be too rough. I know my full strength and don’t want to scare her away, not just after she decides she finally wants to have her way with me.

I feel myself reaching that point the more I thrust myself in and out of her mouth. My calm, steady pace grows a little quicker and she moans again and again. I practically growl, every curse I can think of falling from my mouth as she grabs my balls and squeezes.

“I’m gonna cum,” I say, in case she wants to pull her mouth away.

She doesn’t.

Thank the fucking gods.

I shoot off into her mouth and she takes it all in with pride. A drip falls out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin as I work out my release. I can’t even speak, can hardly breathe.

When I’m done, her lips leave my dick and she swallows.

If I wasn’t already married to her, I would have asked her right then and there.

She catches the drip running down her chin with a finger and when she licks it clean, I grab her shoulders and haul her up my body, crashing my mouth against hers.

That was the best surprise, middle of the night blow job I’ve ever had, and believe it or not, I’ve had a few.

Hell, that might have been the best blow job I’ve ever had, period.

My hands cup her ass as I devour her mouth, my tongue brushing along hers. She bites my bottom lip and tugs, making me groan.

“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe when her teeth release my lip and she rests her forehead against mine. “That was…”

“Good?” She asks, biting her own lip now. She looks shy and sweet and sexy all at the same time.

“Beyond good,” I murmur, rolling us until she’s under me, my hips nestled between hers. My cock is still out, growing harder again by the second, despite my orgasm not even sixty seconds ago. There’s nothing between us but the little, cotton boyshort panties she wore to bed. “Beyond great even. Amazing.”

Her eyes are shimmering and it almost looks like she’s about to cry when she leans up and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss.

Elide has never kissed me like this. She’s kissed me softly and sweetly, she’s teased me with her kisses. I’ve even had her needy, horny kisses. But this…

She’s kissing me with a purpose.

And I don’t want to get my hopes up.

I’m aching to rip off her t-shirt and panties and get in that tight, little body, but I stop myself, not wanting to screw up whatever headway we’ve suddenly made. She just took a huge step out of her comfort zone to give me the best blow job of my life, so I don’t want to push my luck. Instead, while we kiss, I let my hands explore, touching, grabbing, squeezing, until Elide spreads her legs a little wider of her own accord.

I feel the heat of her through her panties the same second she feels me grinding my hard on against her. We both freeze, staring at each other, panting.

I have never wanted someone as badly as I want Elide. I want her mind, body, and soul. One part isn’t enough for me, I need all of her.

She puts a hand on my chest and I pause, thinking she’s pushing me away. But she says, “Lorcan, you’re shaking.”

Shit, I guess I am. “Yeah.”

She’s blinking up at me, framing my face in her hands. “Are you okay, what’s wrong?”

The words tumble out before I can stop. “I want to be the man you need, the man you want. I’m trying, it’s just…hard. This is such a different life than I’ve ever had, but it’s exactly what I wanted. What I needed. I just want to deserve you. I keep waiting to fuck something else up.”

“Lor, you haven’t fucked anything up.” Her arms wrap around my neck tugging me down so my body is flush with hers, almost completely covering it. It feels so right. “We didn’t have the best beginning to our marriage, but that’s the past. What matters is where we go from here.”

I nod and she kisses me, ensuring I believe her words. She starts to move beneath me, rubbing against my cock which is almost painfully hard again at this point. My hips start to grind in a slow, seductive circle against her as I run my hand down the length of her body, hooking my finger in the edge of her panties and tugging them down a few inches.

Her eyes flare in the darkness and her arms around my shoulders tighten. I tug them down a little bit more until I glimpse what lies beneath. I have to see it, I’ve waited long enough with only my imagination to hold me over.

My imagination did not do it justice.

I push myself back on my knees and Elide remains perfectly still against our pillows as I slip her panties down until they’re no longer a barrier. She opens her legs for me and I swallow. Her pretty, pink pussy greets me, and I can’t help but notice how smooth it is, as if she knew I’d be seeing it tonight.

She’s perfect.

I want to touch it.

I want to taste it, taste her.

I can hardly form a thought as I settle myself between her thighs and it looks even more beautiful up close. I take my thumbs and part her folds, memorizing every inch of all she has to offer. Above me, I don’t think Elide is breathing but I look up to find her watching me, cheeks flushed and lips parted. Another day I’ll have my fucking feast, I’ll lay her down and devour her, but right now…I have to be inside of her. My cock needs its release. It needs her.

I have to have just a taste, though. I can’t help it. I run my tongue between her folds as she gasps, then take her clit between my teeth and she whimpers. These little sounds of hers will be my undoing, my salvation. I suck it in for just a second and play with her with my tongue, and she’s so fucking wet that I can feel it on my chin. To no surprise, she tastes sweet as hell. Just as her hips begin to shift, as they begin to grind into my mouth, I’m back up on my knees.

I push my sweatpants down the rest of the way and her breathing hitches as she watches me become completely nude. It’s a silent request that she grants me as she sits up and lifts her arms.

With gentle hands, I take the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up over her head before tossing it aside, not giving a fuck where it goes. 

I don’t move any closer.

I stare at the masterpiece before me.

Her entire body is perfection. I’ve seen glimpses here and there, especially in that bikini in the cabin, and seeing it is a dream come true.

But those tits.

Those fucking tits.

If the research team got one thing right from my application, it was this.

I’ve done nothing but dream of them since the day I met her. And it turns out my imagination is shit, because my wife’s breasts are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I don’t ask, I don’t say anything, I just lean down, taking one of her peaked rosy nipples into my mouth, my fingers finding the other. It’s heavy in my hand and I have the sudden image of my cock sliding between them.

Someday, maybe, but not tonight.

Elide whimpers as my mouth moves to her other breast, my teeth gently tugging on the sensitive nub. Her hand slips into my hair, tugging me up until her mouth is fused with mine. 

After a minute of kissing, my restraint is hanging by a thread. I break the kiss.

“Elide…” I breathe, my voice desperate for her, my lips lingering on hers. I want her so badly.

“Yes,” she whispers, answering my unasked questions. “Lor, I want you, please.”

Restraint? Snapped.

Our bodies somehow get closer, melding together as soon as the words have left her lips. I press my cock against her warm folds and kiss her lips hungrily. “You're sure?” I whisper between kisses. “Please be sure…”

She reaches down between our bodies and palms my cock, rubbing the head against her wet entrance. I grab her hand from between us and pin it above her head, entwining her fingers with mine. My mouth claims hers again as I slowly push my cock into her, causing her to gasp against my lips.

I’m aware of my size. I’m also aware of hers. Although I have no doubt she can take me, I start out slow, gentle. There’s something intimate about it, that gentleness. I’ve never taken my time with a woman before. Now, I’m kissing Elide, trying my best to ease any discomfort while I hold her hand in mine as I slowly inch my way inside of her. I don’t ease in all the way, just enough for her to get used to me, and then I’m pulling my way back out and repeating the motion. With each pass, I go a little bit faster, a little bit deeper, until I set a slow, steady pace. Everytime I push my way inside of her, she gasps, but her lips never leave mine.

My free hand grabs her knee and drapes her leg over my ass. Her body moves with mine, perfectly in sync. 

I don’t know what I’ve been doing for the last decade. There has never been a time that I’ve been with a woman and it’s felt like this. With Elide, there’s something deeper going on. It actually means something to be here with her, wrapped in my arms as I take my time fucking her. I know it when she looks at me and an unspoken conversation flows between us. I can feel everything she’s feeling, can sense everything she has to say, and I mirror every word, every emotion. 

Sliding my hand up her curves, I palm her breast as I kiss her again. My tongue finds hers and she moans into my mouth. It sets me off. With a snap of my hips, I’m in her to the hilt, my cock unable to go any further. Her moan is louder this time, seductive and proud. I love that she’s vocal in bed. It makes me want to see just how loud I can make her. Next time, I won’t hold back.

This time, our first time, I just want it to be something that she’ll remember. I want her to know that I care, that this isn’t just about sex for me.

This connection between us, this has nothing to do with actual sex and everything to do with us tearing down our walls and finally becoming one. A truce, of sorts, of throwing our hearts in the air and hoping the other doesn’t miss it, letting it shatter to the ground.

I push her hair back off her face, wanting to see everything she feels. Her eyes are bright, her mouth open, lips parted in ecstasy. I look down, between our bodies, where we’re joined. The way my cock disappears inside of her in the most erotic thing over ever seen. She feels like heaven wrapped around me.

Her hips start to slowly move with me, her fingers of her free hand digging into the muscles of my ass and hips as small moans and sighs tumble from her lips. I let her set the pace and depth, wanting her to find her own release. Next time, I’ll make her cum so many times, she won’t remember her own name. She won’t remember any name but mine, but tonight, I want her to find that sweet spot and let go. And when she does, her walls contract fiercely around me and she hugs me tighter to her, whispering my name as I cum right alongside her.

My mouth finds hers in a slow, sleepy kiss, our tongues lazily stroking each other, as our breathing calms and settles, despite my cock still being buried inside her. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but when we pull apart, my lips are on her throat, her jaw, her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead—the need to make her feel cherished and to know that that wasn’t just sex for me. That it was more. I need to make sure she doesn’t regret what we’d just done, that she doesn’t regret finally tearing down her walls and letting me in. I’m guilty of not really being a gentle or sweet lover, especially when it comes to aftercare, but she makes me want to be.

We lie in silence afterward. Neither of us speaks and there’s no playful teasing like there usually is. The air feels charged between us, like something raw is there, something new. Her hands moving slowly over my body while I kiss her say way more than words ever could. She tucks her head against my chest, beneath my chin, and wraps her arms tightly around me like she's afraid I might disappear once she falls asleep.

Not a fucking chance.

I listen as her breathing evens out, as her body becomes a weight on mine, and I know she’s asleep. My hand rests on the curve of her ass and I drift off to sleep staring down into her gorgeous face. 

I’m not exactly sure when it happened but slowly, everything in my life has become about her. It scares the shit out of me, but that’s what this study was about, right? Opening yourself to someone new, giving yourself to them completely.

I might as well change my name to Lorcan Lochan at this point.

Because I belong to her.

[theladyofdeath]

Do you know when chapter 11 will be out?🥺 askin for a friend…

Soon!

I hope you're enjoying the read!

[theladyofdeath]

No pressure just curious 👀 next chapter of til death do us part?

Hi! It was posted yesterday :) -> @snelbz

[theladyofdeath]

Any idea when we’ll be getting chapter 10? Love this fic and love reading everything you two write!

I'm so sorry, I'm just now seeing this! It's up on @snelbz 's page if you haven't read it yet!

[snelbz]

Hi, first I'd like to say that I am loving TDDUP and can't wait how the story will continue. I was just listening to a song "If it means a lot to you" by A day to Remember and it gave me strong Elorcan vibes in your story. Like that song could fit them in the end of the story possibly 👀

Sooooooo that song may or may not have been the very first song that I added to my “TDDUP” playlist when Tara and I started writing this one. Good eye, anon. Good eye. 😉

[theladyofdeath]

New chapter!

'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Seven}

Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist

A/N: The moment you've all been waiting for. THE REVEAL.

Elide -

“I literally think I might pass out.”

Aelin sits in the chair I just finished getting my hair and makeup done in, a glass of champagne in her hand, watching me pace. The dark green dress she picked out as her maid-of-honor dress is absolutely stunning.“You’re going to be fine.”

My words come out much harsher than I intend for them to. “Says the woman who knows the person she’s in a relationship with and won’t be leaving with a husband that’s a stranger.”

She knows I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I’m about one stressful thought away from a full on panic attack.

In less than an hour, I’ll be married. I don’t know his name. I don’t know what he looks like, what he does for a living. I don’t know how old he is. All I know is that he’s supposedly perfect for me.

I pause my pacing in front of the full length mirror the hotel provided in the room they gave Aelin and I to get ready in.

The dress I’d chosen had little in the way of ornamentation, made entirely of beautifully detailed lace. I already have a few ideas for what to do with the lace after the wedding. It’s too pretty to sit in a box and turn yellow. It’s tight, hugging every curve and dip on the way down my body, until it flares out at my thighs. The tiny sleeves, hanging off my shoulders, made of the same lace, are dainty and feminine. The train is out, since I’ll be walking down the aisle very soon, and I turn to look at the long line of buttons trailing down my entire back. It had taken Aelin almost ten minutes to get it completely buttoned. The second I’d seen the dress, I’d known it was the one. I tried on a few more, at the behest of Aelin and the girl who was helping us, but I kept coming back to that dress. It wasn’t until right now that I wondered if it was too much.

“As a woman, I know you’re not supposed to tell a woman this, but you need to calm down,” Aelin says, then offers me her glass. “Drink? Smoke? Xanax? All of the above?”

I laugh but that panic is still there in full force. I groan, face falling into my hands. “What am I doing here?”

Aelin’s eyes soften as she sets down her glass and rises to her feet to take my hands. “You’re here to meet the love of your life.”

“And if he’s the opposite of that?” I protest because it’s all I can think about. It’s a much more probable outcome, this being a mistake.

“Then you put yourself out there and you tried,” she says, hands clinging to mine. “I know this is stressful. I know you’re anxious, but this moment is going to change your life. No matter what happens, this moment is a turning point. This moment will advance you and help you grow and help you determine what you want out of life. You’re so brave, so courageous, going on this adventure. And I’m proud of you, which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.” She turns me toward the mirror. “I have never seen a more beautiful bride.”

I take a deep breath. “Thank you. I love you. This is honestly all because of you.”

She smirks. “I know, you’re welcome. I love you, too.”

Laughing at her, I shake my head, because what else can I do? She succeeded in making me not stress for thirty seconds, which was her goal.

“Sure you don’t want that Xanax?” She asks, studying my face.

Turning away from the mirror, I head for the last piece that I need to be ready: my veil. After retrieving it from my dress bag where I’d carefully hung it, I sit in the chair in front of the mirror and hand it to Aelin. She tucks the comb beneath a braid, exactly where the stylist had shown her and fans it out behind me. Standing, I return to the full length mirror, taking in the full picture.

I look like a bride.

“I can tell you one thing about your husband,” Aelin smiles, standing next to me. “He’s a lucky man.”

My eyes line with tears, but before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the door. Hasar peeks her head in. “Just a few minutes until we’re gonna start. You okay?”

My heart lodges in my throat and suddenly I’ve lost the ability to speak, so I nod. Hasar gives me a sympathetic smile, so I must look as freaked as I feel, and then looks to Aelin. “I’ll give you guys a couple more minutes together, but then we’re gonna give the bride a few minutes alone before we start.”

I’m already shaking my head no, don’t take my best friend, when Aelin takes my hand and squeezes. “Sounds good, Hasar. Give me just a second and I’ll be out.”

She nods and then turns back to me. “Elide, you look beautiful. That dress is stunning. We’re so happy you two are finally getting married. You’re our last couple and we can’t wait for you to start your life together.”

With that and another smile, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

Aelin turns me so I’m facing her and takes my hands in hers. “I want you to remember that everything happens for a reason, okay? The team has done their research and they matched everyone up with exactly who they were supposed to.”

I blink at her. Of course I’m aware of this, I’ve spent the last six months going through rigorous questioning, interviews, and digging far deeper into my personal history than I was expecting. I trust them to make the best decisions. I squeeze her hand, giving her the best, most calm smile I can. “I know.”

She laughs softly, so I know it can’t be too convincing. I need to work on that before I meet my husband at the altar.

My husband. Oh, gods, this is happening.

She kisses my cheek then she’s out the door, leaving me alone although I’m the last person that should be left alone.

I think of my about-to-be-husband. Is he panicking right now? Or, is he perfectly calm? Gods, what if he’s drunk? I wish I was drunk. I already feel like I’m about to vomit, I may as well have a stomach full of alcohol that’s the cause.

But no, the cause is my impending marriage that I still can’t believe I’ve signed on to. 

I don’t want to wait.

I just want to get out there and get it on with. I open the door to find Aelin standing there alongside Gavriel. I only met him an hour ago but he’ll be the one walking me down the aisle considering I don’t have anyone else. I wondered why Rowan didn’t want to be the one to walk me, but I didn’t ask. It’s not that Rowan and I are all that close but at least I know him better than this guy.

Gavriel.

Although, he does seem to be a nice guy. From Aelin’s description, he’s in The Cadre and is the most mature out of any of them. She described him as father-like, which I wasn’t sure what to make of, but apparently it made him the winning candidate of who would walk me down the aisle.

“Ready?“ Aelin asks me and I’m about to shove everyone out of the way and storm to the altar, but I don’t. Instead I nod and that nausea rolls in my stomach.

Gavriel looks down at me with an encouraging smile and holds out his arm. “You look beautiful.”

I try to smile back but fail. “Thank you.”

Next thing I know, someone has handed me a bouquet and Aelin, holding a smaller version of my bouquet, is standing before the closed doors that will lead into the ballroom that will hold both the ceremony and reception. She looks back at me and gives me a wink just as the music starts, her cue to start down the aisle. The doors open from the inside and she gives me one last look before she’s gone.

Holy shit, this is happening.

I’m getting married to a stranger. A complete and total stranger. I know they said they vetted all the crazies out, but what if my future husband managed to pass all the tests and still has plans to murder me?

My eyes dart around the hall, finding an exit sign above the door at the far end.

There. There’s my escape if I need it.

My arm must tighten in Gavriel’s because his free hand covers mine. “Hey, take a deep breath, you’re fine.”

I do just that, trying to relax. “Sorry, this just…isn’t how I imagined my wedding day.”

His already somber tone deepens. “I get that, but you both know what you signed up for when you decided to do this study, right? So you’re in this together?”

I hadn’t thought of it like that. “I guess you’re right.”

He smiles, and there’s sadness there I wasn’t expecting. The music swells and his hand releases mine. “It’s time.”

Taking a deep breath, I nod. “It’s time.”

We step into the open doorway and as if I can’t control my body, my gaze snaps to my shoes. I should be taking everything in, looking at my surroundings, looking at my husband at the end of the aisle, but my body is in full revolt from my brain. It’s only when I notice people to my right that I’m able to look up.

My soon-to-be husband’s guests and his family. They look…nothing like I was imagining. Which was normal wedding guests. There are people wearing leather and denim and everywhere I look is tattooed skin and long hair.

I’m sorry, did I just walk into my wedding or a concert?

My eyes snap to my side of the aisle and…

It’s all but empty, which was to be expected, but I at least expected to see more than who is seated there.

Aedion and Lysandra are up front, as well as the people running the program and…that’s it.

Where is Rowan? And the rest of The Cadre, if Gavriel is here, walking at my side? Shouldn’t they be sitting on my side?

When Aelin told me they were coming, I thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. I had no one else that I’d wanted to invite, so I said the more the merrier and let her handle it.

Had they decided to sit on the other side because they were embarrassed? Gods, I might die—

Somehow, because this is simultaneously the longest and shortest walk of my life, we’re only about halfway up the aisle as I process all of this information. And yet I still haven’t been able to force my eyes forward.

As if he knows what I’m struggling with, Gavriel gives my side an encouraging nudge.

I let out the breath I’m holding and look forward. My eyes dart around, trying to see everything at once. I acknowledge Aelin standing off to the left, right beside where I’ll be standing in a matter of seconds. And as my eyes are crossing the aisle to finally focus on my husband, they get caught on a shock of silver hair and green eyes so vivid I can see them from here.

Rowan.

Rowan is…standing at the altar.

What the hell is he doing up there? Are he and Aelin getting married after us, taking advantage of the officiant while he’s here? I wouldn’t blame them, but I feel like she would have told me if that was the case.

As my brain is rambling on and on, it’s taking longer to catch up to what my eyes are seeing. Because I swear, I see Lorcan standing up there, next to Rowan.

I’d been thinking about Rowan's band mate nonstop since we’d been informally introduced a couple months ago. The way his heated gaze had dragged over my body had kept me up far too many nights than I cared to admit. So my brain has to be projecting for me.

I blink, ready to look past the illusion, and actually see my husband.

Lorcan Salvaterre remains.

I stumble but Gavriel’s hold on me remains firm and he walks me forward.

Reality dawns on me.

Lorcan Salvaterre is the man I’m marrying. He will be my husband. He was chosen as my perfect mate.

It’s not processing. 

I look at Aelin for some sort of clarity and I swear she cringes. Holding up one of her hands, the other still clinging to her bouquet, and giving me spirit fingers, she whispers, “Surprise.”

I’ve made it to the altar now and cannot even begin to attempt to give Aelin any sort of reply. The music stops and it’s then that I realize that Gavriel has taken a seat and I’m left standing in front of my husband.

The rockstar.

The infamous Lorcan Salvaterre.

Yes, I googled him after that first informal meeting of ours and gods, the internet had a lot to say. 

I meet his eyes now as if im seeing him for the first time since I entered the room.

He wears a black tux that’s fitted to his massive frame, both his shirt and tie beneath black, too. His shoulder length hair is pulled back and it seems that he shaved for the occasion. His nose ring remains and the tattoo on his neck is visibly sticking out of his collar.

But his eyes are warm and searching my face. 

His lips are parted and his breaths are coming out in ragged pants.

I look again to Aelin.

She’s smiling at me hesitantly.

Good. She should be worried. After I say I do, I’m throttling her.

There is no feasible way that she didn’t know Lorcan was in the program. And there’s no way she hadn’t figured out within at least the last couple weeks that I would be marrying Lorcan. Rowan had to have known, and he would have told Aelin, because she’d obviously be his plus one.

Did she encourage him to apply to? Was this all intentional?

He at least looks…genuinely surprised to see me. Whether Aelin knew or not, it’s clear that Lorcan was just as in the dark as I was on this.

My mind is reeling, trying to process everything, and I don’t realize that I’m speaking, that I’m repeating vows, until I’m taking his massive hand in mine, sliding the platinum band he’d chosen onto his finger. I noticed the tattoo design on the top of his hand as I do so, a pocket watch with dark roses around it. I look down and there’s a matching, smaller band on my own hand. When the hell did that get there?

“You may kiss the bride.”

Wait, what? Did I say I do?

I don’t have time to run back through what I repeated in my head, because Lorcan’s still got my hand in his and he’s leaning towards me.

Oh, gods, he’s going to kiss me.

Just before his lips meet mine, I turn my head and he kisses my cheek. The guests all cheer and laugh.

“Kiss him!” Aelin hisses from behind me, but I can’t.

I’m frozen and after another awkward beat of hesitation, my new husband tugs me forward and down the aisle. He receives cheers and slaps on the back and I get…tight lipped smiles from the romance team. At least Dr. Towers actually looks happy for us.

We’re met at the door by Hasar, who leads us back to the suite of rooms where Aelin and I got ready.

“Congratulations, you two! Alright, now I know you’re feeling excited and nervous and about a thousand other emotions, but rest assured, that’s absolutely fine.” She smiles at us. “The rest of the guests are going to step out for drinks and appetizers while they flip the room for your reception. You two will have about half an hour alone in here to get to know each other a little, and then the photographer will come here to get you. They’ll take some pictures and then you'll join everyone in the reception hall for dinner." She clasps her hands together. "You guys make the best couple. I'm so excited for you!”

“Thanks, babe.” Lorcan’s voice rumbles out and I blink.

Did he just call her babe?

I step away from Lorcan, forcing him to drop my hand at last. “Can you get Aelin for me?”

Hasar shakes her head. “No, I’m so sorry, Elide. Dr. Towers insists the bride and groom be alone for this time. You'll be able to talk to her soon, though. I'll go out and tell her that you want to see her as soon as you're able."

Hasar leaves and I stare at the door as it slowly snicks shut.

After a moment, Lorcan clears his throat. I turn to find him standing behind him, his hands shoved into his pockets. He has a humored look on his face as he studies me. “Want a drink?”

I want to say no, but I also want to say yes, but I say nothing. I continue to stare at him, dumbfounded.

Married.

I am married.

We are married. 

I am married to a fucking rockstar who is the embodiment of what I told Dr. Towers and her team that I did not want. I recall asking for a clean-cut man with a regular nine to five job. Not this guy, standing there taking a shot of whiskey like its water.

And then another.

He hands me a glass.

I take it to calm the shaking of my hands, the pounding in my chest. I’m married. I just said my vows and said I do and now I’m in this, there’s no going back. 

“You look disappointed,” he says, and there’s no judgment in it, although I can’t quite place the look in his eyes. 

“Surprised,” I correct, although I’m trying to spare his feelings because the truth is that I am disappointed. This is not what I wanted. He is not what I wanted. He’s the polar opposite. 

With my drink that I’ve yet to sip from, I sit on the couch and watch him as he slips off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. He rolls up his sleeves and gods he’s covered in tattoos. I would be surprised if there was an inch of skin that wasn’t covered, aside from his face that has yet to be inked. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, and it almost doesn’t register that he’s talking to me but of course he is. I am his wife, after all…even if he did just call another woman babe in front of me not even five minutes ago.

I’m sure he calls a lot of women babe. 

This guy doesn’t even seem like the type who would want a wife…or have any trouble finding one if he did. Surely, he could announce his intentions to marry and have a flock of women on his doorstep in a heartbeat. Then, it occurs to me. This has to be some kind of PR stunt. The thought has anger and embarrassment coursing through my body. 

I’m going to demand to talk to Dr. Towers. Maybe even get a lawyer and sue for distress. I endured detailed interviews, questionnaires, meetings with psychologists and sex therapists for almost half a year for this. Months of my life— just gone. And now I’m legally married to someone who probably did this for publicity and not to find a life partner. 

I have to force myself not to cry. “Thanks.”

He is handsome, despite looking like he rolled around on an inkpad. The way he’s watching me, though…

I stand to my feet and drink from my glass, welcoming the burn it brings as the liquid courses down my throat. “You’re…famous.”

He smirks as he refills his shot glass. “Very astute of you.”

He tosses the shot back like it’s nothing. I’ve had one sip to his three shots. I mentioned to the team that I didn’t want to be married to someone with a substance abuse problem. Granted, I feel like that’s something that shouldn’t have been mentioned, but here we are.

I shake my head, not understanding. “Why would you want to do this?” 

He pours another shot and I genuinely can’t believe he’s about to take his fourth in a matter of minutes. “Why?” Down goes the shot and then he pulls a lighter from his pocket, lighting a cigarette dangling between his lips. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a smoking room. Hell, I don’t think this fancy hotel has smoking rooms. He takes a drag and blows the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t settle in my face. How sweet of him. “Truthfully? I wanted to be with someone who wasn’t just interested in me for my name, my money, or my dick.”

His crass answer catches me off guard and my brain shorts out for a minute. It’s the only reason I can think that I say, “I don’t like being around someone who has a drinking problem. I put that on my questionnaire.”

Taking another hit off his cigarette, his eyebrows raise. “There’s a glass in your hand, too, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. I’m seeing red.

Crossing to the sink set into the bar, I dump it down the drain. “I had one drink. You had four shots.”

His own displeasure is settling into his features. “Okay, I’ll cut back on the drinking. Anything else you put on the questionnaire that they ignored?” My eyes shoot to the cigarette before going back to his face, but he catches my wordless answer. “Of course.” Turning, he stubs out his cigarette in the bottom of one of his used shot glasses. “Better?”

No, I think to myself as I look at the man that’s now my husband. It’s not.