Page 74 of Break You

“I love you too, Loaded Boy. Turns out I always have, and I know I always will.

Epilogue

8 years later

All The Stars Magazine

Saturday June 8th saw one of the most anticipated weddings of the year with long-time beaus, billionaire entrepreneur and renowned philanthropist, Xavier Cross, and child protection advocate, Rukiya “Rocky” Gordon tying the knot in New York.

In the true “zero fucks given” style that has become a trademark of the way the couple conduct themselves, the ceremony was a small, informal, but star-studded affair, held on the rooftop of the Swan Club—a venue the couple have confirmed holds special significance for them, though they won’t specifically say what.

Both estranged from their parents, the couple, who met while studying for undergraduate degrees at the city’s prestigious Heathcote University, were walked down the aisle by their informally appointed godparents—tattooist to the stars “Zed,” and his wife. Continuing in the unconventional trend, the stunning pair were attended by their six-year-old son, Zephyr—conceived while Gordon was still at college, and born just after she graduated Summa Cum Laude—and their four-year-old daughter, Aster, as ring-bearer and flower girl respectively.

The reception was also held at the venue, spilling over six levels of the historic upstate building, with different entertainments and activities on each level, including burlesque and drag performances and a special musical set by friends of the couple’s godparents—rock legends, The Heartless Few. In yet another unconditional twist, the waitstaff wore roller skates and Rollergirl-inspired uniforms—even the guys—and served dishes that were significant for the couple, including gourmet grilled cheese with truffle oil, as one appetizer.

The esteemed couple are notoriously private, and have always been guarded about the exact nature of their first meeting, except that Gordon has gone on record multiple times, saying, “I don’t believe in coincidences, fate, or even kismet, but I do believe in karma, and that’s what brought us together.”

Billionaire Cross, son of technology magnate Xander Cross—who was not in attendance at the prestigious nuptials, “divorced” himself from his father just shy of his eighteenth birthday, and famously went on record telling the world his father was “dead to me”. Apart from unprecedented success in business—until his son came along to challenge him—Cross senior is best known for his exploits in the bedroom.

Using an inheritance left to him by his maternal grandfather—curiously, his mother, who was divorced by his father when Cross was young, and has since remarried and had other children, was also absent from the wedding—Cross went on to establish several highly profitable tech companies, setting himself up as one of his father’s biggest business rivals.

However, unlike his father, Cross junior is best known as one of our country’s most generous philanthropists—his Black Swan Foundation having established a large number of educational programs and scholarships to support underprivileged children on their path to completing their college education.

Gordon makes no secret of the fact that she had a troubled childhood—having frequently found herself a ward of the state, bouncing around various foster placements, between periods in the care of her sometimes unstable mother. It’s this experience that sparked her interest in child welfare, rights, and protection. Working and lobbying with the city’s key officials, her aim is to eventually effect widespread reform in the treatment of children across government agencies like CPS.

Twenty Four Hours later

Rocky

I woke up to the heat of the sun streaming through the blinds and toasting my face. We’d fallen into bed the night before in a drunken tangle of formalwear and hotel sheets, and had clearly passed out before taking care of the practical considerations. Not that it really mattered—we had two blissful child-free, work-free weeks to catch up on as much sleep as we liked. Though knowing Xavier, there would be more fucking than napping going on.

Speaking of Xavier, I was starting to get horny myself, and wondering where he was, so I padded out of the bedroom of the villa we’d hired on a deserted private island, headed for the living area to find my errant husband. Husband. I still loved the way that word sounded, even when I said it silently in my head.

Halfway down the light-filled hall, I was shocked when I was grabbed forcefully from behind, a rough hand clamped over my mouth, another around my neck, and shoved face-forward against the wall. As my cheek brushed against the exposed brick, I instinctively bit down on the hand across my mouth. Hard.

“Any more stunts like that, and I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” His voice was a low growl, his breath grazing the delicate skin of my ear, and sending electrified shocks of arousal racing around my body.

I bit down again, harder this time.

“Careful, Angry Girl. I’m this close to losing my shit and fucking you raw right here.”

I bit down again.

The hand on my mouth moved down to my hip, pulling me into a hard swollen cock. Seconds later, it was inside me, pushed to the hilt. The hand that was on my neck squeezed, applying just the right amount of pressure to make its presence felt. I scratched at the tautly muscled thighs straddling mine, digging my nails in hard.

“Oh really?” The voice was husky, overcome with arousal.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah…” Equally husky, I chanted the word over and over as I jerked my ass backward, forcing him deeper and harder into me with each thrust. I knew it wouldn’t be long before we both lost control, giving way to our impending orgasms, but I didn’t care—time, for once, wasn’t an issue.

As I felt the telltale ache in the pit of my stomach, signaling that I was close, he pulled back, dragging his dick almost completely out of me, before slamming forward again.

We came as we always did—together, explosively, and overwhelmingly—and I was glad of the hand on my hip, holding me upright as my legs weakened beneath me. I reached up, resting my elbows on the wall, and leant my head against my forearms for extra support.

“Fuck me, Angry Girl, you still know how to press every one of my buttons and then some. Now, I hope you enjoyed your entrée, Mrs. Cross, but I’m wondering if you’d like to experience your main course and dessert from the comfort of our honeymoon bed?”

“Beds are for wimps, Mr. Cross. How about we go cook up the next two courses in the kitchen?”

“As you will, Mrs. Cross. Your wish is my command, and I’ll try my best not to break you.”