by K. S. Adkins
Ty, I could tell, felt guilty about his role in my being here but Travis must pay him a ton of loot to be able to afford this place.
However, none of that mattered right now. Because I was here and I wasn't leaving until I got what I came for.
Neutering Travis and making Ty fall in love with me.
When Ty came up behind me, I immediately felt his presence and warmed all over.
Everything about Ty turned me on. From his rugged face, imposing stature and musky scent.
Most especially, his fuck authority aura.
“So,” I say gauging the intense vibe pouring from him. “What size bed do you think that is?”
Not missing a beat he growls, “Fuck size.”
“Imagine the DNA coating the walls of this place,” I joke but when he doesn't laugh, I tense up.
“You changed your clothes,” he says breathing down my neck. Turning to face him, to fully show him my strapless dress, I saw his eyes fire and heard his breath hitch. Based on the look of lust on his face, he liked what he saw.
“You like?” I ask turning slowly.
Ty didn't answer with words. Instead he traced my collarbone with his finger, down the valley of my breasts before realizing what he was doing. “Keep going,” I encourage but he yanked his hand away like it was on fire.
“The fuck kinda game you playing here, sweet?”
Oh! I had a pet name! “Me? The fuck kinda game you playing here, sour?”
“I'm not playing games.”
“No?” I laugh heartily. “Then what's with the palace and fancy car?”
Hardening his features he grunts, “Travis is covering this field trip not me. Said to spare no expense so, I didn't. You don't like it we can go elsewhere.”
“Oh,” I mumble in disappointment.
“If I had clout like his I'd build you a palace not rent you out a room in one.” Spirit renewed!
“Money isn't everything,” I say taking in the room. Because while this enormous space was plush, I grew up with a father who had money; he had also given me had a miserable childhood. For me, money made shit situations worse. Besides, these days I have tons of it and my life is still mostly shit. “Trust me on this.”
“Wouldn't know,” he shrugs. “Never had enough of it to blow.”
“You said we're here on Travis's dime?”
“Yes.”
Clapping enthusiastically I declare, “Then come on, Sour! We're going defcon 1!”
And I swear I caught him grinning.
Diva's idea of defcon 1 was a strip club.
Never having been to one I can safely say, it's overrated.
However, as I sat in the booth scowling at the talent, Diva had them eating out of her hands.
Literally.
There was not a woman in this club, on the strip or walking the planet that held a candle to the female doing a jello shot between a strippers tits.
When I saw her in that tight ass dress from behind, my cock punched through my jeans. However, nothing prepared me for how beautiful she was when she turned to face me. I was dying to see what lie hidden beneath her dress.
So when she asked me if I liked it, I wanted to tell her no. That I loved it. That I loved her.
But I couldn't, I won't. I fucking can't.
She belonged to Travis and I had less than seventy-two hours to soak up any bit of attention she threw my way. So snagging her around the waist, I place her in front of me and say, “Dance for me.”
“Wait,” she blinks adorably. “What?”
“Dance for me.”
“Now? You don't want the talent? I mean they fly some of them in.”
Running my hands up her thick silky thighs I promise her, “You're the only one I see, sweet.”
“You're the only one I see too,” she smiles broadly. “But here?”
“What happens in Vegas,” I whisper against her soft skin.
“Ends in pregnancy,” she says standing. Then I see her straighten up, ready to dance for me when she says, “Cramps are better than contractions, Ty. Remember I said that.”
During my time on the inside I spent most nights wondering what I was missing out on while the world went on without me. Most nights my imagination got the best of me too.
But having the most beautiful woman in the world shove her cute toes in my mouth then pour my beer down her leg thus filling my mouth with liquid and woman, I'd do time all over again. Just to be where I was right now.
With Diva.
At the end of her beer fountain a man came by sliding money between her tits asking for his turn. Out of my seat, still licking my lips I tell her, “I don't want you to see me kill him.”
Weaving a bit but enjoying every second, she gets on her toes offering, “I can turn around, I don't mind.” God, she was made for me.
In that moment I made a decision not to kill him. I was going to enjoy my first true night of freedom, drinking alcohol and my woman. So I only knocked him out.
Now I can tell you that Diva dancing for me and pouring booze down her perfect leg into my mouth was the most erotic moment of my life.
I'll even tell you that I was too drunk, too out of control to remember the rest of what happened last night but, I would be lying.
But the woman lying on my chest, snoring, won't know that.
Because the woman lying on my chest spilled her drunk beautiful guts last night.
She writes about a love she's never found, was in some seriously fucking outrageous and hilarious sexual situations and more than anything, Diva wanted a do over.
I understood that better than most.
She also wanted a husband. A forever love. She made that very clear. And even tanked, she looked in my eyes when she said it. Like she felt it too.
Thing is, Travis was a good looking man. He was wealthy and connected.
He would spoil her and drive her nuts with his neediness but he'd never love her like I do.
He wouldn't take her on adventures, challenge her, and be her biggest fan.
I would do those things.
Me.
So when she fell into my arms and smiled up at me, I decided fuck Travis.
He couldn't have Diva, she was mine.
And then I did something she may never forgive me for.
So as she starts to wake, like a chicken shit, I feign sleep.
But Christ, my heart was beating so hard I'm surprised it didn't shake the bed.
'Happy tears taste delicious'
Regardless of drinking my weight in vodka last night, waking up in this bed was so heavenly, I ignored the slight headache. Once I was done with Travis, I was so ordering one of these mattresses. Fuck it, maybe I'd get two. Slowly rolling my head to the right, I see Ty passed out next to me and run my fingers over his furry barreled chest. This wasn't hard to do considering I was pretty much on top of it.
Plus, I love chest hair. It just screams papa bear to me.
And then silver catches my eye and I notice a band on my finger.
Looking from the ring to Ty and back to the ring, I whisper to the ceiling, “The fuck?”
When I should have panicked, I didn't. When I should have slapped him awake demanding an explanation, I didn't do that either.
Instead, I cuddled in a little closer, throwing my arm over him and snickered, “Holy shit, I'm married.”
And I don't even know his last name. This is awesome!
Married! Me!
I locked that shit down, baby!
Lying there was proving difficult because I was brimming with excitement and questions.
The first was, did we get this on video? And, what did I wear? What did he wear? Did Elvis do our vows? Did he carry me over the threshold? Did he rock my world? Did I take it in the butt?
Feeling his large callused hand grip my ass, I ask, “Are you awake?”
“Are you pissed?” he asks keeping his eyes closed.
“No,” I answer honestly. “But, did we have sex?”
<
br /> Groaning he pulls me closer to say, “Not yet.”
I couldn't help it, I laughed at my crazy life. The twists and turns it’d taken, thinking I'd be single forever, even accepting my fate to waking up married with no memory of it.
And not caring because I found what I wanted but never knew I needed.
I found Ty. Or rather, Ty found me. Meh, semantics.
“At least I can say we didn't have sex before we got married.”
Rolling to face me, Ty says nothing while his eyes said everything.
“Do you regret it?” I ask fearful of his answer.
“The only regret I have is not finding you sooner,” he says low. “You said yes and I wasn't giving you the chance to sober up and change your mind.”
“Have you ever been married before?”
“No.” Thank God.
“Me either.”
“I know, sweet,” he says squeezing me.
“I told you everything didn't I?”
“Oliver, Pablo Jones of Los Poon, the guy who lived with his mom, the wannabe vampire, the kid with the cock ring, the robbery gone wrong, the Apple Watch incident and the gynecologist. Did I miss anything?”
“No,” I squeak out. “Sounds like I covered it.” What is the matter with me!
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks concerned.
“I'm waiting for you to come to your senses and ask for an annulment. Or, tossing me off the balcony. But I don't advise it, I'm heavier than I look.”
Cradling my face he says, “I don't care about your past, Diva.”
“You don't?” I blurt loudly. “Why not? Everyone else seems to.”
“They aren't me.”
“You know, they say impulsiveness is the useful mental illness.”
God, shut up, Diva you're babbling.
“You're nervous,” he whispers. “But you should know that I promised myself that I would never drown in a woman unless she was my wife.”
“So you married me so you could fuck me?”
“I married you so I could date you.”
Blinking at this wonderful man I ask, “Why?”
“Diva, you are the first woman I've ever wanted for my own.”
“Oh my God,” I say fighting tears. “Are you real? We're really married, right? Don't fuck with me, Ty. I still plan to register for gifts.”
I didn't know this man yet I had waited my whole life to hear those words and now that I have, I couldn't cope. He was too good to be true, I just knew it.
“Yeah, sweet, I'm real. This is real. Our marriage is real. But I gotta ask, does Pablo Jones have any idea what Los Poon means?”
Covering my face, I laughed so hard I cried.
I cried the happiest of tears.
Turns out, happy tears taste delicious.
Diva was out on the ridiculously enormous sun deck bathing fucking topless while I was inside nursing a serious case of blue balls. While I listened to Travis brag about how amazing she is, I was making her a drink and trying not to touch myself.
But the pressure...
God, the pressure...
This was worse than prison.
Who knew cargo pants could be this tight?
Just watching her lay there while the sun worships her makes my cock pulse.
And she, Diva, was my wife. Mine.
I was a married man.
My bride didn't lose her mind over waking up tied to my ugly ass nor did she think twice about untying her bikini top and flinging it for full sun exposure.
She really is the perfect mate and her tits? By all that is holy, if I don't have my mouth on those nipples before noon I was going to be back in prison, this time for a life sentence.
Unable to listen to his babble any longer, I hung up on Travis to join her outside.
Setting her glass on the table, I take the lounge next to her and watch as she twists her band around her finger and felt the need to blurt, “If they’d had diamonds I would have bought you one.”
Tipping her sunglasses up, she smiles so sweetly, “I love the band, Ty.”
“Women love diamonds, sweet.”
“Well, I love the band, sour,” she huffs adorably. “Do you really want to make our first fight be over diamonds that I don't want?”
“No,” I mumble fighting a smile. God, she had fire. And, I wanted it to sear me clean.
“What about yours, do you like it or do you prefer diamonds?” she asks.
Sticking my hand out, I inspect the simple band and how perfect I thought it was. “I got you,” I shrug. “The band shows I'm claimed so yeah, I like it. Fuck that, I love it.”
“As long as we're married, don't take it off. I'm the jealous type, Ty.”
“Are you now?” I loved hearing this.
“Actually,” she says sitting up and yeah, my eyes went to her tits again. “Until I woke up married to you I would have said no.”
“And now?” I push further.
“Let's just say you don't want to test the theory.”
The thought of any woman being jealous over me was laughable. At least it was until I saw the serious look on her face.
“I just talked to Travis,” I say steering the conversation in another direction.
“And?”
“He talked about you non-stop so I hung up on him.”
Rolling her eyes, she puts her sunglasses back in place and says, “I'll handle Travis.”
“How's that?”
“You'll see,” she smiles beautifully. “We have more important things to discuss.”
“Like?”
“What's our last name?”
“Cole. You were hammered when I explained Travis is my brother.”
“Fair,” she agrees easily. “How long were you in prison?”
“Fifteen long ass years.” I grunt at the not so distant memory. “Now, I have a question.”
“Hit me.”
“Why is your top off?”
Shrugging she says, “Fat looks better tan.”
“You're not fat.” Did she not see herself at all?
“Now I have a question,” she whispers seductively. “When are we consummating this marriage?”
That was easy. “Right fucking now.”
I may have scooped Diva up in to my arms but my dick was so hard, I could have easily balanced her on it.
Wearing only bikini bottoms, Ty carried me over to an enormous bed of cushions, lowering me onto them like precious treasure. My heart and body rejoiced at this. Him. The husband I didn't see coming. This man, I decided, was my own personal holiday.
When he kneels between my legs, the look on his face stops me from yanking him on top of me.
“What's wrong, husband?”
With his eyes glued to my pussy he says, “Went to prison when I was eighteen, Diva.”
“Okay,” I say gently, afraid I'll spook him. “What else?”
“Was in for fifteen years,” he says grinding his jaw.
“So that means...”
“I'm thirty-three.”
“When did you get out?”
“About a month ago,” he says licking his lips hungrily.
“And?”
Closing his eyes he whispers, “I'm a virgin.”
At his declaration, emotion hit me on every front. When he said he would only drown in his wife, I never thought he meant...
Over the years I've had men with all sorts of experience levels and yet found myself a virgin.
And married him.
This meant so much to me that it took everything I had not to tackle him.
Sure, Ty may be inexperienced by normal standards but it was I who felt like the virgin.
I was in uncharted waters here. I needed to treat this man, my husband, with care and consideration.
To be all of his firsts had my bikini bottoms soaked.
So I spoke the truth when I said, “And I'm the luckiest woman alive.”
While he openly stared, I ran my fingers
between my legs and asked, “What does your body need first, Ty?”
“It needs my wife.”
“You'll have me,” I promise him. “But tell me what your body wants. What you want.”
“You, sweet. All of you,” he groans adjusting himself. “I want to own you. I want to fucking wreck you. I love that you have a past. That you experimented. That you lived. Let me live through you, Diva. Show me what was waiting for me until I found you. Let me lose myself in you.” Swallowing thickly he whispers, “Let me come home.”
“You have a way with words,” I say fighting more tears. “But let's start you off slow by checking out your mouths talent.”
Like the gates of sexual heaven opened up, Ty's mouth dive-bombed my pussy and my eyes rolled back at the sensation.
Did I care that he left my bottoms on? Not even a little bit. Because I felt his want of me so deeply that my knees were shaking. Oh but, when he moved the material to the side, found my clit and sucked it between his teeth?
I didn't explode.
I shattered.
And I screamed so loud, I know Jesus heard me.
Eager to give me another, I force him to come up for air, guiding him to my mouth. When Ty slides his tongue inside, I nearly came again. His lips were thick and full, his tongue, slippery and sensual.
I was so into this man I couldn't formulate a thought, let alone what to do next.
Breaking the kiss he whispers in my ear, “One man’s not ready is another man’s, I knew the second I saw her.”
“Oh God,” I whimper in pure joy.
“I knew the second I saw you.”
“Ty,” I say clutching his body to mine. “It was the same for me. I only wish you could have found me sooner.”
“You belong to me now, Diva,” he says kissing the salt from my neck. “All mine.”
“All yours,” I agree readily. “Now, let me undress my man.”