Vivien
Kieran shuts the door behind us.
I wobble my way towards his bed, drunkenly unsteady on my feet. He chuckles as I crash down on the soft mattress, without a lick of gracefulness. I can’t even bring myself to care at this point. My inhibitions are tossed to the wind, in other words, I’m wasted.
“You’ve had way too much to drink, sweetheart.” He crouches by my feet, tugging off my shoes one by one. He sets them on the floor by the foot of the bed, his hands moving to knead the sore muscles.
I let out an exaggerated moan, my toes curling into his hand. He laughs again, running his hands up my inner calf and then back down.
“Don’t stop doing that,” I say, the words slur, tumbling past my lips without any rhythm. Laughter bubbles up inside my chest.
The ceremony was perfect.
W
