by Gemma Weir
“No,” I try to argue, but the single word is barely more than a rasp.
“Yes.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for arguments and I fall silent, feeling a little chastised and somehow sad that I might have upset him.
His arm releases me and I freeze, waiting for his reaction. Maybe this is the moment where he realizes I’m not worth the hassle. But instead, he grabs a wash cloth, coats it in soap and starts to bathe me.
Another first.
He starts with one arm, coating my skin in the thick, creamy lather, then moves across my shoulder, across my chest to my other arm. He pays particular attention to my breasts and pussy, teasing me with the cloth, but never breaching the entrance of my sex. Once I’m covered, he uses the cloth to wash all the suds away, until I’m panting and squirming against every stroke of the rough cloth across my sensitized skin.
Next, he washes and conditions my hair, massaging my scalp, neck and shoulders as he cares for me in a way I’ve never even dreamt of before. When he lifts me from the tub, I feel boneless and pampered. Brick by brick he’s pulling down my defenses and I feel unequipped to fight back, to protect myself.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders softly, wrapping me in a towel as he carries me into the bedroom and slowly lowers me to the bed. “I need to taste you again, honey.”
I don’t protest, I couldn’t even if I wanted to, because I’m a heady mix of relaxed and wanton and I think he might be the only person who can help.
Crawling between my legs, he pushes my knees apart, spreading my thighs wide and displaying my sex for him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his nose against me. “You smell so sweet, and you’re leaking, dripping for me already.”
The first lick of his tongue makes me arch off the bed and gasp with pleasure, the second and third have my eyes rolling back in my head and my hands find his head, holding him to me, silently begging him not to stop.
After that, I lose myself to the sensation as he licks and sucks and nips at my folds, clit and mound. I’m nothing more than a ball of sensation as he pushes me through first one, then two orgasms as he tells me how perfect my pussy is, how tight and sweet and wet I am.
“I’ve got to fuck you, honey, I can’t wait, I need you too much,” he drawls, grabbing my hips and flipping me onto my stomach. Firm hands lift my pelvis, until I’m on my hands and knees, then he pushes my shoulders back down, so my cheek is pressed against the comforter, my pussy and ass up in the air for him.
“Fuck,” he growls as he positions his dick at my entrance and pushes inside, filling me in one hard thrust. “Mine. My pussy, my woman, you’re mine, Alice,” he says through gritted teeth as he holds me in place and fucks me with a punishing brutality I’ve not experienced with him until now.
He warned me he was going to claim me and that’s what this is, claiming. This isn’t fucking, or making love, this is territorial branding and I love it. I meet him thrust for brutal thrust, slamming my ass back against his dick and claim him just as emphatically as he’s taking me.
I can feel his fingers digging into my hips and I know there’ll be bruises there, but I don’t care. Until I met this man, sex was something I’d done that had been disappointing and dissatisfying. But with Granger it’s so different I’m not even sure it’s the same act. This man fucks me with his whole body, his mind, his presence. When he touches me, I feel it from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes and even if this is the last time it ever happens, I’ll remember every detail for the rest of my life.
An orgasm splinters through me and I scream his name. “Granger, harder, fuck me harder.”
He does as I ask, slamming into me, each thrust jolting me forward as his hold on me stops me from moving. “Again, I need you to come again before I do,” he says, his voice barely human.
When he smacks his palm against my ass, I come, the light behind my eyes turning white as pleasure so blinding I never could have dreamed it explodes within me. I’m only partially aware of him following me over the edge or his roar of completion as he comes, fucking me through his orgasm, until we’re both done, wrung dry, and we collapse to the bed beneath us.
10
Granger
Fuck. I didn’t plan to fuck her this morning, I definitely didn’t plan on taking her like a madman from behind. Today I wanted to be gentle, to worship her and show her how good I can be to her, how much of a princess she’ll be when she’s with me. Instead, I completely lost control and took her like an animal claiming its mate.
But the thing is, she is my mate. My mate, my woman, mine, and every time she denies it just makes me want to prove it to her, to force her to accept that she belongs to me now. My dick’s still rock hard and buried inside of her, even though I’ve filled her with my cum. We still haven’t discussed that I haven’t been using condoms when I’ve fucked her, and that each time I’ve enjoyed coating her cunt in my cum. I don’t know if she’s on birth control, and even though it’s totally irresponsible to be happy that I might have got a woman I met yesterday pregnant, I just can’t bring myself to care.
Rolling us to the side, I band my arm around her waist and pull her back into my front. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice a little raspy from all the screaming.
“Not gonna lie, honey, I didn’t intend to get rough with you, but I fucking loved it.”
“Me too.”
Her butt wiggles back on me and my dick twitches still inside of her, soaked with a mixture of my cum and hers. “We need to get cleaned up again.”
“Do I get to shower on my own?”
“No,” I laugh.
“Then I’m good here.”
“Me too,” I say against her neck, rolling my hips as I slowly start to fuck her again.
It’s after noon by the time I finally let her out of our bed. She wanted to shower alone, but I refused, climbing in after her, not allowing her any time to change her mind about me and being here with me. I don’t know everything about Alice yet, but it’s obvious that given a chance to think too hard, she’ll run and I’ll have to start convincing her all over again.
She protested when I insisted on washing her again, but I can tell she loves the way I’m doting on her. I love it too. When we’re both clean again I hold out a towel for her, waiting for her to step into it before I dry her skin, then reluctantly leave her naked in our room, while I go and get her things from the guest room.
Unpacking her meagre belongings, I place them into the dresser next to mine, then pick out an outfit for her and help her dress. Alice is a complex enigma of a woman. She’s fiercely independent until I take over and take care for her, then she effortlessly slips into the role of submissive and allows me to provide everything for her.
Until her, I had no idea how much I needed my woman to need me. But with Alice I want to give her everything she’ll ever need to make her happy. I don’t want her to be able to be happy without me, because I know I won’t ever be happy without her.
Taking her hand, I lead her into the kitchen and lift her up onto the counter. Bonnie is humming happily with her earbuds in as she buzzes around, baking something that smells amazing. She smiles happily at Alice and me when she spots us, but she doesn’t stop working as she adds something to the bowl in front of her.
“What do you want to eat, honey? Breakfast or lunch.”
“I don’t mind,” Alice says.
When it’s just the two of us, she’s louder, more vocal and demonstrative, but now, like last night, when we’re in a bigger space with more people she seems to withdraw into herself. For a moment I contemplate asking her about it, but something stops me. I don’t want to ruin this progress we’ve made, so for now I’ll stop prying and just enjoy her.
“How about bacon and cheddar bagels with mushrooms and peppers?”
“That sounds great. What shall I do to help?”
“Nothing, you just sit your sexy little butt there and watch y
our man cook for you.”
Her cheeks pink and I’m not sure what I’ve said that’s embarrassed her, but I love the way she blushes. “Honey, you look sexy as fuck sitting there, my dick’s still hard, I want you again,” I say quietly so no one else can hear.
Her cheeks turn an even deeper shade of pink and I can’t help but chuckle. I enjoy teasing her and watching her reactions, but I give her a reprieve and start on our lunch.
“Anyone else want bagels?” I shout. There’s a chorus of yeses and suddenly I’m cooking for ten. As my siblings fill the kitchen and dining area, I notice Alice becomes even more withdrawn, her face dropping, her chin tucking into her chest as if she’s trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.
The urge to go and demand to know what’s the matter is almost overwhelming, but I get the feeling I’ll learn more about her by watching than I will by asking her a direct question, so I keep half an eye on her while I quickly fry off bacon and veggies, toast bagels and grate sharp cheddar.
Almost all of my family make an effort to speak to Alice, asking her questions, playfully teasing her and generally attempting to break the ice that’s so thick it’s practically opaque. But despite all their efforts, my woman thwarts every attempt at friendship they offer her.
She did the same last night until I asked her to try, and then when she did speak it was like it was almost painfully against her nature. I wonder if perhaps she was bullied in high school, but she’s too beautiful to have been a target and I would have thought she’d have been popular, or at least chased by every horny teenager.
Obviously she’s shy, but this seems like more of a choice not to be friendly rather than an introverted disposition.
When Teddy jumps up and positions himself next to her on the counter, I find myself tensing for her dismissal, but instead she quietly replies to everything he asks. My baby brother has always had a soft way of speaking to people that others sometimes assume is weakness, instead it’s this innate awareness of how to deal with people. He’s soft when he needs to be, forceful when he has to, and a down-right asshole when he chooses. But as I watch him pull a reluctant smile from my woman’s lips, I’m grateful to him.
I hadn’t realized how tense I was, until I start to relax, but I still can’t stop myself from checking on her as I finish off our lunches. Plating up the bagels, I grab mine and Alice’s and head toward her. Teddy smiles at her and jumps down from the counter.
“Come here, honey,” I say, encouraging her to shuffle toward the edge so I can lift her down.
“I can get down on my own,” she says coyly.
“And I can lift you.” Raising my brows, I dare her to argue, but she just sighs, a slight smile twitching at the corners of her lip, as she wraps her arms around my neck and lets me lift her down. Reluctantly, I let her go once her feet are on the floor, but I wish she’d let me carry her about like Bonnie does with Beau. Until today I’ve always thought it was a bit odd that Beau likes to carry her like a child, but now I have a whole new appreciation for having my woman wrapped around me like a baby monkey.
“What’s everyone want to drink?” Penn asks.
“What do you want?” I ask Alice.
“Water or soda would be great,” she tells me quietly.
“What soda do we have,” I call to Penn.
“Coke and Sprite,” he calls back.
I look to Alice and she wrinkles her nose adorably “Water’s fine.”
“Water for me and Alice,” I tell Penn, urging her forward and toward the couch. She moves, but I can see her glancing toward our room almost wistfully. I’m not against the idea of us hiding naked in my bed all weekend, but if I’m going to convince her to stay here with me, I need her to get used to my family.
“Are we going to the opening ceremony tonight?” Bonnie says, brushing flour from her pants as she drops down into Beau’s lap and takes the plate from his hand.
“I have a date,” Penn says.
“I’ll come for an hour, then Bay and I have plans,” Cody announces.
“Who’s your date with? Don’t tell me you’ve picked back up with Roxanne again?” Beau snarls angrily.
“No,” Penn scowls. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m taking Mariana Cole out.”
“Mariana who works at the surplus store?” Cora asks.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, wow, I always thought she was into girls,” Cora shrugs.
“She is, but she’s into guys too, I’m not sure if she’s bi or bi-curious but we’re gonna find out,” Penn laughs.
When I glance at Alice, her eyes are a little wide, but apart from that she shows no reaction at all. I don’t know if this disinterestedness is an act or if she really doesn’t care, but I’m desperate to know, to understand.
“You want to go to the opening ceremony for the festival tonight? You never answered yesterday about if I could take you out on a date, but I think I might know a way to convince you to say yes now,” I tease, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.
I haven’t spoken too loudly, but I also want my family to hear me, just in case Alice tries to argue and refuse. I’ve fucked her more than once, I’ve eaten her pussy and sucked on her tits, I don’t think a date is too much to ask.
“Sure,” she says with zero enthusiasm.
The urge to pull her to me, to demand she explain how she went from smiles and giggling in our room thirty minutes ago, to one-word answers and borderline ignoring everyone around her now swells inside of me. But I don’t, instead I hold it in and eat my food, hating how awkward and tense the room feels as my brothers and sisters try hard not to look at each other or Alice.
The oven pings and Bonnie jumps up from Beau’s lap, darting into the kitchen and pulling three trays of delicious smelling muffins from the oven, placing them on the counter. “These need to cool for a minute, then I’m going to run them over to the ranch. Beau, you gonna come with me?”
“Sure, baby girl,” he says. “I’ll go change my pants, no doubt we’ll end up doing something over there.”
“Granger, Alice, you fancy a walk? I know my dad wanted to talk to you about seeing if you could fix his kitchen table for him, the old one has started to crack right down the middle.”
“Sure, we’ll come,” I answer without asking Alice. “We’ll go get ready.”
Bonnie nods and I stand, holding out my hand for Alice to take. She places hers in mine, easier than I expected and I help her up, taking her plate from her and loading it into the dishwasher on the way to our bedroom.
Once we’re both inside, I close the door behind her and cross to my dresser and pull open the drawer. “You need to bundle up, it’s colder this far up the mountain and the forecast says we should be getting snow any day.”
“Okay.”
Her voice is barely above a whisper, but I don’t turn and look at her, needing to think about what I’m going to say, rather than just bursting out and demanding to know why she’s sweet with me, but glacial with the rest of my family.
Pulling out a sweater and my winter coat, I step aside and motion for her to find whatever clothes she wants to wear. I could step back and give her some space, but I don’t want her to have the room to create mental distance between us, so I stay where I am, inches from her shoulder, close enough that I can see her chest rising and falling with each breath.
“Friends or family?” I ask, continuing the game from earlier.
“Neither.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like to be tied down,” she answers, but it’s a lie.
“Why don’t I believe you?” I ask, crowding her against the dresser, my chest pressed against her back.
“I…” she trails off, as if she’s never had anyone question her bullshit lies before.
“Do you need to borrow a sweater? Yours doesn’t look like it’s gonna keep you warm.” Plucking at the thin fleece sweater, I don’t bother waiting for her answer as I pu
ll out one of my thick, knit fisherman sweaters I wear in my workshop in the winter and drop it over her head.
The sweater swamps her much smaller frame, but I like seeing her in my clothes, so I curl my arm around her waist and turn her to face me. “I’m taking you out tonight, the opening ceremony is cheesy, but the town goes all out with carnival rides and food stalls, it’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” she says sweetly, all the disinterest from earlier gone as a soft, almost earnestly excited expression crosses her face.
Even more confused, I lean down and kiss her, needing to know if I’m imagining her hot and cold behavior. When she kisses me back eagerly, I’m none the wiser about her strange mood swings, but I enjoy her giving herself to me so freely and take control of the kiss, cupping the back of her neck and deepening our embrace.
After a long moment, I reluctantly pull away from her perfect mouth, nipping at her full bottom lip before I drag myself away. “Come on, Bonnie and Beau will be waiting.” I hear her sigh, and again have to hold back a myriad of questions. I need the answers, but they can wait for the moment.
When we get into the living room, I help her into her jacket, zipping it up before pulling my own on, then sliding my feet into my boots, while she pulls hers on. Bonnie has a platter covered with a blue and white checked cloth, but steam is escaping through the fabric from the heat of the muffins.
“Muffin?” Beau asks, holding out one in each hand.
“Banana-pecan?” I ask hopefully.
“Blueberry,” Bonnie answers.
I take them both and pass one to Alice, while Beau pulls another from somewhere and starts to eat, as he opens the front door. We all file out, ignoring the golf cart we usually use to move between Bonnie’s daddy’s ranch and our place, and instead head to the new road we had built not long after Bonnie moved in.
“Where are we going?” Alice asks quietly.
“Bonnie’s family’s ranch is the next property over, when she moved in, we had a road built straight across the middle so it was easier for her to get home and for her daddy to get to her,” I tell her.