by Tyla Walker
Eighteen
Sophia
I won't be able to carry everything...maybe one of my colleagues can help. I take another box, one that's still a bit heavy but manageable.
New job, new co-workers, new environment, and hopefully, a new boss without sons that bully employees into marriage arrangements. I mean, what are the odds, right?
"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Alan asks me.
I avoid looking at Alan, even though I know this might be the last time I'll see him in person. It'll probably take me months, years, of listening to break up songs all the while crying over his pictures.
Not exactly, but...his hands reach out for me, and I maneuver the box into his arms instead.
"Just help me with these and make yourself useful, 'kay?"
"You're not going anywhere, Sophia. Please, let's talk."
This man dared to lean down, put my box containing precious cargo and memories down, and then peer up at me with those icy blue eyes.
Those eyes...are the ones that smiled at me, the one that stared at me intently during sex — my body shivers at the images that flash through my brain — and those eyes...are similar to his father's.
I gulp and then look away from, hoping for some respite. It was a huge mistake; everyone, and I mean, everyone, including one snobbish uppity Wilbert Spencer, was watching us. I resist the urge to ask them if they needed popcorn.
"There's nothing to talk about, Alan," I reply, and I chance a glance up at the balcony on the floor above, where his father watches from. The elder Spencer notices me looking at him and promptly closes his mouth.
His son follows my eyes and glares at his father before turning back to me.
"If you're leaving, then I'm leaving too."
"What? No, no, you can't, Alan. This has been your dream, your goal—"
"I don't care, okay? My father can go to hell and bring this company down with him for all I care."
I hear gasps and even some murmurs. This feels a lot like one of the dramas I watch on cable TV.
Sighing, I pull Alan aside and tell him to drop the box. He follows me to a quiet corner and leans against the wall there.
"I already found a new job, and I'll be starting as soon as possible,"
"What?" Alan sounds surprised.
"You heard me," I state. He looks like he's ready to burst at any time. And they say women are the dramatic ones. I roll my eyes and kick imaginary dust from under the soles of my heels.
He runs his fingers through his brown hair, clenches his jaw, and stares off into the cubicles.
"Then I need to get one as soon as possible, too. Can you, I don't know, help me with resumes and cover letters?"
"Huh?"
"You heard me," he throws back at me, and in spite of everything, the corners of my mouth quirk up.
He tries again.
"This could be good for me, too, you know? Try to find my own footing out there, away from my father's shadow."
His face darkens a bit, and those icy blue eyes flash. I step a little closer and put a hand on his forearm.
I know what some people say: bitter, nasty things than can get to anyone. Even to one Alan Spencer who has ego three times the size of a black hole.
"It's not as if anyone can just accuse you of nepotism just because you're the big boss son. You've worked hard for this, Alan. You know how much effort you put into anything."
Alan puts a hand over the one I clamped around his forearm, slides it down the length of my arm to reach my shoulder. He rubs his thumb against the skin there. Even though I 've known what it was like to be thoroughly fucked by him, this feels a little more intimate.
"Do you think I actually give a fuck about that?"
He stops when I raise an eyebrow at him. Even his thumb pauses.
"Okay, maybe sometimes. But honestly, you can't always let them get to you. I don't, I know what I'm worth. You taught me that, among other things. I want to be with you. I love you, Sophia. And Nina, too. God, I' dd love for her to be officially considered my daughter. That is if you'd both have me."
I look up again at his father and Mandy. She notices me looking at her and gives me an encouraging nod.
"I can't get between you and your father, too. Plus, you've earned your spot here. You're more than just the boss's son. Please stop saying that it's getting annoying. He doesn't even want to have a relationship with me, Sophia. He just wants to control me," Alan says to me.
This time, he takes both of my hands and threads his fingers through mine.
"Marry me," he whispers.
"What?" I question him. I blink, and he rests his forehead on mine.
"I don't have a ring right now but I'll get you one. Make me the happiest man on Earth, Sophia. I don't give a shit about anything and everyone else," Alan admits to me.
My mouth opens, but he has taken all the words away. And brought the tears.
And honestly? Fuck it. I'm getting us the happily-ever-after we deserve. The tears start pooling at the corners of my eyes, and he wipes them away as I nod.
Footsteps approach and stop in front of me.
"Can we talk?" Father interrupts us. "The three of us."
"Not until you apologize to her," Alan glares at his father.
Alan receives my best 'really' look, but when I open my mouth to say something, the old man beats me to it.
"I'm sorry, Sophia."
He stares at me for three seconds, before dropping his gaze. His shoulders slump, and he wrings his hands.
"I didn't mean to insult you or…you must know that I'm just worried about him. So many people have tried to take advantage of us," CEO Spencer explains to me.
I nodded and crossed my arms.
"The same way you took advantage of your son's willingness to please you," I tell him brutally.
"Right," he clears his throat. He looks around, winces at our audience, and then clears his throat. "You're correct. I did the same thing. Can we talk somewhere else?"
Alan and I look at each other, and he shakes his head at me. I understand him. So I take the hands I'm still holding and squeeze twice.
"Hey," I whisper, and my hold on him tightens.
He smiles at me, the shadows across his face disappearing in an instant. We both turned to his father, and I let go of his hands.
"We accept your apology, but we have quite a lot of things to work on. I don't appreciate you insinuating that my future wife's just in it for the money," Alan sounds aggrieve.
As his son continues on with his tirade, I watch Wilbert's eyes widen at ' future wife' term. Whether he'll be a bitch about it or not remains to be seen. Accepting his apology is enough for now.
And I've had enough of everyone tuning in to our little drama, so I pull my fiancé away after muttering a quick goodbye to my former boss.
"Come on, you still have to help me carry boxes to the car. And then you gotta buy me a ring," I tell him and we walk away.
Nineteen
Alan
I think I'm going to have a heart attack. I've attended weddings, sure, before but none of them were my own. Especially none of them have my bride about to walk down the aisle.
The double doors at the end of the hall open, and I straighten up, fixing my tie. When I look up, everything and everyone else is gone.
It's just her. Only Sophia, in her fluttery wedding gown with delicate gold accents.
She says it's tulle...whatever that is. I'll still be a goner even if she wore a potato sack to the altar. I'm still going to take it off her, anyway.
The thought makes me smirk, and she tilts her head at me. I shake my head. She's almost here, just a few more steps away.
"Hey, stranger. You look dashing today," she says when her hand's finally in mine. "You ready to get married?"
"Well, do I even have a choice?" I question her.
She slaps me in the arm as her father chuckles with me. He then shakes my hand, pulls me a bit closer, and then threatens to castrate me if I hurt her before letting
me go.
"Oh, dad," Sophia kisses her father's cheek before the man turns around to go to his seat. My own father smiles at me, and I give him a smile back. We've been a bit more amiable, and he's trying his best. I gotta give him that.
I turn away and look down at my bride, "You look amazing, love."
Her hand squeezes mine, and I face the priest, who's beaming down at us. We greet him, and he whispers one back, before turning to address everyone.
"We are gathered today, friends and family of the bride and groom, to witness —"
"Mommy!" Nina screams. Everyone laughs and awws as she obviously struggles to get out of her grandma Anita's arms. Sophia covers her mouth with a gloved hand, but I stop her when she's about to step forward.
"I got this," I say, and approach the toddler wriggling from her grandma's grasp. "It's alright, I'll take her."
"My goodness, I'm so sorry," Anita blushes, and even George looks ashamed.
I brush it off with a smile and give them reassurance. Meanwhile, Nina quickly climbs me like a monkey, wraps her arms around my neck, and buries her sobs into my shoulder. Our audience claps as I bring her to the front.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Sophia asks, trying to brush our girl's hair from her face. She just clings to me tighter and gets mad at her mom.
"I want to marry Uncle Alan!" Nina wails. The crowd is delighted. I throw my head back and laugh along with them. Soph's laughing too, but I can see her biting her lip and flushing. Beautiful.
"But I'll be your daddy soon. You can't marry your daddy."
She huffs, "Okay, marry mommy. But I'll marry Carter."
"Who's Carter?" I ask Sophia.
More laughter. Oh, God. I have tears in my eyes, and I shift the kid up as she slips a bit from my hold.
"Next door neighbor, one of her playmates. He's just a bit older than her."
I turn to look at every one.
"Are you guys hearing this? I'm not yet married, and yet, I already have to worry about threatening boys away from my daughter."
The crowd goes wild, and some even yell tips and advice on would-be suitors.
"You've already got your hands full, dude!" someone shouts, and I threaten to kick him out of the church.
After apologizing to the priest, who is losing his marbles along with us, we resume the ceremony, state our vows, and I move to kiss my bride. Nina protests and tells me I can't kiss her mommy.
"Eew!" the little girl shrieks, and pushes my face away, to everyone's delight. Guess I can't kiss my bride.
We all move into the building right across the church for the reception. Nina is now in her grandma's arms again, chatting the ears of her grandma about the beautiful gowns, the decors, and food.
In between eating, games, and even dancing, my father and I talk. He has nothing but praise now for Sophia. He commends her on efficiently planning the wedding in just a couple of months, even when busy at work and even dotes a lot on Nina.
He showers the little girl with gifts and that Sophia put her foot down and teasingly told him not to buy the kid more toys and candies.
He likes to complain about, "What? Grandpa can't buy his favorite granddaughter anything she wants now?"
"No, or I'll ban you from my house," Sophia shoots back every time.
Everything passes by in a blur, and although I'm already tired, I allow one more dance, this time with Nina. This is our first father-daughter dance, and my eyes are misty as I look across the dance floor at my wife, who is being twirled around by my dad.
She smiles the sunniest smile I've ever seen. She's glowing, she's happy, and in love.
And I'm happy it's with me because I can't stand the thought of another man laying claim to her, nor fathom the thought of another woman calling me hers.
Nina's already sleeping, head on her mother's lap, and her legs on my mine. I am holding Sophia's hands, running my thumbs across her knuckles as we both watch our beautiful angel sleep.
"We should head back and prepare for our trip tomorrow," Sophia pipes up. I nod and take Nina from her. We then tell our parents and closest friends that we're leaving. They all congratulate us, some grin at us knowingly.
It's almost midnight when we get home. After dropping Nina off on her bed, I pull Sophia into a kiss.
"I feel blessed," I tell her. "I must've done something good in my past life to deserve this."
"You are a good man, Alan."
Twenty
Sophia
His eyes are closed, but a smile finds its way to his lips. I can't help myself; I lean forward and press a kiss to them.
And it's as if a match has been lit.
He grabs my face in his hands and proceeds to properly devour me. I moan in his kiss as his tongue explores the cavern of my mouth, tracing every ridge, and coaxing my tongue to play. He groans when I push up against him, back arching and manicured nails scratching at his nape.
"We don't want to wake our darling daughter up, don't we?" he pulls away to whisper huskily in my ear before licking its shell. "We don't want her to see the evil things mommy and daddy are doing to each other, right?"
"Skip the dirty talk and bring me to our bedroom, right now. And fuck me real good, husband."
"Of course, wife."
He carries me, closes Nina's door, and steps over the threshold to our bedroom with a smirk.
He's moved in with my family and me for the time being while our own house is being constructed. But tonight, my parents are staying at our other home, and with the exception of the fully asleep two-year-old in her bedroom, the place is all ours.
"You look delectable, Soph," he says, climbing over me on our bed. "I want to fuck you in this wedding dress."
"On one condition," I whisper, and he raises an eyebrow. I bite my lip and lick it, and his eyes burn with desire. "Undress me after that, and don't stop fucking me until we're both tired."
With a growl, he launches himself at me, capturing my lips in a searing kiss that had my toes curling and my pussy gushing. His hands are on my breasts, cupping each mound as he kisses down my throat. His lips continue downwards, down into my cleavage.
The off-the-shoulder gown is pulled down my torso. My breasts are immediately exposed to the cold air, and my husband's hot gaze. I don’t bother with a bra, as my dress had cups.
His lips latch on to one of my nipples as his fingers play with my other one, pulling, twisting, flicking, and driving me crazy.
"Oh, yes, just...like that...hmmm..." I whisper breathlessly. He's so good at foreplay, even better at dicking me down. Sex with him just kept getting better and better, and...oh —!
Alan chuckles against my heated skin. His hands have lifted the skirt of my gown, and his thumb is rubbing my clit. I don't know where my panties are now, and I don't care. My hips jerk up, rubbing up for better friction and offering more of my cunt for him.
"Babe, I...I've got a dilemma here," Alan pants above me, and I am just noticing how he is rubbing himself against my leg. I groan at the feel of his erect cock, poking me through his dress slacks. He then gives me two options, and I want him to finger me.
He can eat me later.
A finger enters me, followed quickly by another, and I'm gone. I shift up, meeting each thrust of his fingers. He is scissoring me, preparing me for his huge cock, while his thumb is still flicking my clit like a button on a video game controller.
"Alan..." My back arches up from the bed as I feel the pressure building in my lower regions. I play with nipples, pinching them, and he groans at the sight of it.
"Look at you, darling. You're so beautiful," he leans down to kiss me, biting my lower up when he pulls away. To continue watching his phenomenal fingers playing with my cunt.
When he pulls them out, I whine, but he shushes me.
"No, darling, this is even better," he then licks my nectar off his fingers. "Hmm, so sweet and salty. You taste so good."
Alan shifts and slowly moves down my body, kissing the exposed skin and even t
he parts covered by the bodice of my wedding gown. I tremble in anticipation of what he'll do next and my legs part wider on their own.
Still not wide enough for him, though. He settles between my legs, gives me a wicked wink that almost makes me come, and then lifts my skirt further up my waist.
I push them away and watch as his tongue darts out to lick me. I moan and press my pussy against his face, and he laps me up, pressing his lips on me. When his teeth come out to play, I gasp.
Every nip, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his lips...I know I'm never gonna last long.
"I'm... I'm close..." I half-whisper and half-beg. "Please, Alan, please."
"Cum, darling," he answers. His tongue slips into me, and I cum with a choked sound. His tongue continues thrusting as my slick juice pours out of me generously.
"Excellent, wife," he pulls away to whisper, and my face warms at seeing his chin and cheeks wet with my lady cum. "You taste like heaven."
He unzips his pants and pulls it down with his boxer, "I will fuck you now, wife, and I won't be gentle."
My back arches up from the bed when his dick thrusts into my sopping wet channel. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer, and he stills for a few seconds. And when he starts moving, my legs wrap around his waist.
Fuck...this man fucks like there's no tomorrow, and when he hits my g-spot, he shifts so he can hit it again and again. My cunt makes a squelching sound with his every movement.
"Alan!" I cum for a second time, and he follows, squirting his seed inside me.
He rubs my clit as we ride out our shared orgasm, still fucking me. After a few moments, he slows down then stops.
It was quite, until he, still on top of and inside me, whispers, "I love you, Soph. I love you so much."
"I love you too, Alan," I grin up at him.
It's our forever.
Also by Tyla Walker
Honest Man
Million Dollar Fake Wife
Boy Friend
Up & Coming