The limo back to the hotel room was silent, except for a few murmurings of "I love you" or a contented sigh when we kissed or after I curled up next to him and laid my head against your chest. It was exceptionally dark out, so I clung to my new husband as we climbed the steps to our room. I entered the bathroom to take off my remaining makeup.

"You know, this probably has been the happiest day of my life. And being married is different, even though it's only been a few hours. It's more final," I state from the small bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I saw you stripping down to his boxers, a bewitchingly sexy sight.

"I suppose all the sayings are true, then?" I move out of the bathroom to where my suitcase is and I catch you smirking, almost flirtatiously.

"Yes. But only because you make me so happy." I change out of my wedding dress and into a short nightgown. My newlywed has gotten into bed, but not under the sheets. You have made it nigh on impossible not to stare. I climb on the bed, over the sheets, mimicking what you did. There is a certain twinkle in your eyes when you smile at me.

"This day has left me so tired," I say.

"Not too tired, I hope?" you ask, half-smiling mischievously. I roll on my side, our bodies now in full contact with each other.

"That, my dear Dominic, is one of your rare stupid questions." You push me on my back, following close behind. You kiss my neck slowly, starting at the base and ending at my jawline. Already I was in paradise. You kissed my cheek bone tenderly, sending my stomach a-flutter. Then you pulled me into a passionate kiss on the lips. I slipped my tongue into your mouth, exploring. Somehow, you deepened the kiss. I pulled you even closer, holding onto your shoulders and arms. You responded by cradling me, one hand on my lower back, the other wrapped around my neck, fingers just barely grazing my clavicle. All the while, we had not broken the kiss, and I was out of air. It was a wonderful feeling though, running on adrenaline alone. Sensing my lack of oxygen, and probably your own, you drew away, lingering on my bottom lip. I was panting. My lungs are not used to such stress, battling over my will to keep kissing. You looked into my eyes.

"Good," he said.